Levi's used to the dark.
He leans back against the counter, gaze fixed on the treeline visible through the window. He's invisible, silent, and calm, waiting patiently for his prey. He raises a cup to his lips, granting himself a break from motionlessness. His gaze shifts up toward the moonlit sky, noting the ticks of color at the horizon. It won't be much longer before the sun rises. So, if this is going to happen…
And there it is. Just a twitch of movement in the thick of the trees, a running shadow fifty feet away. He swallows the mix of tea and whiskey, sets the cup back in its place on the counter, and stops spinning the point of the knife in his hand between his thighs on the barstool. Seconds pass. Another slip of life outside the windows makes his blood run hotter. He's perfectly still, save his heartbeat as a face floats by the window. They might've made eye contact, but only one of them registered the fact. Silence rules on for a moment longer, breaking as the man outside begins to pick the lock. Levi pushes the cup a few inches closer to the center of the counter. He'd rather not have this mug shatter, stars forbid there be a struggle.
A sliver of metal scrapes the insides of the lock. Levi stands up and takes a few steps through the shadows. He gives a quiet yawn as he stretches, knife in hand. Really is a shame.
The lock clicks open and quiet seizes the room once more. Levi leans with his back against the wall, around the corner from the door. Once the silence gives the man a sense of security, the knob turns. The door opens. Air carrying the chill of winter flows into the room, making no difference to Levi and the drink in his veins. Steps. The door is left cracked open. Levi listens and watches as the man, nearly twice his size, turns right, away from him. Right toward the stairs. His steps are featherlight, though Levi's are imperceptible.
The man manages one foot up on the stairs before Levi's arm wraps around his chest and he's thrown to the ground, hard. Levi comes down on top of him. The man swings wildly, revealing a lengthy blade that proves useless as Levi grabs his arm and turns it at his joints. There's a scream of fury and pain, cut as Levi sinks his own blade into the man's neck. The dark allows Levi to see only the glint of the man's fearful eyes, of the blade he dropped on the floor, arm useless. Blood wells around the hilt of his knife and spills, black against the grey of the man's flesh.
Levi sighs as the black rolls down and disappears onto the floor. He'll have to clean anyway, he concedes, sawing across the man's throat. The straining and gurgling from the bleeding man are about as impactful as the first few bird's singing outside. He has made irreversible damage now, so he stands up over the would-be assassin and watches the dark pool beneath him spread. There's blood on Levi, as though he washed his hands in it, and he's becoming annoyed with the mess. He grabs the man beneath him, forcing him upright, and he pulls the man to his feet. Levi shoulders the larger man's weight, but it isn't so bad. It'd be nice if he'd at least try, though. Some protests come out like pleas. Levi crosses the room with the man and shoves him over the sink. The silver basin catches what has yet to drain from the man. Tears might drip in, too. Levi's bloodied fingers curl around the man's hair and forces the man to look upward at the wall. Life rushes out with more force, and so comes forward another miserable moan.
Levi's voice is colder than the outside air. "You know…" He leans against the counter, finding the consciousness in the man's eyes fade by the moonlight filtering in. "Cleaning blood from the floor is getting old." He pulls the man's hair harder, though there's no verbal response. Just another surge of red, and it's beginning to slow now. Levi watches with disgust. Almost through. "Such a mess."
Once the man is dead, Levi carries his body bridal-style out to the woods he hid in. They'll find him here, the dumbasses. Levi drops the man unceremoniously, leaving him in a heap of pine needles and dirt. On his way back to the shophouse, Levi watches the stars fade from the sky.
It could be a nice day.
He doesn't mind cleaning, to be truthful. In fact, he enjoys it. Kuchel would love to see the shape of the shop today, to see how Levi has kept it up even after the mess these last few months have been. Once the floor is immaculate and the sink has been rinsed, Levi showers and changes into something more appropriate for manning the shop, and he returns to his barstool and his drink. The day the shop is a mess is the day he can worry.