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Litt Sangfugl

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"This is stupid. I shouldn't have to go out and get butter for Lukas because he used it all. He should get it for himself, like a real adult! And I should call him big brother, right? Even though he lacks the most basic characteristics of a mature adult?" Emil grumbles to himself in frustration, biking down his town's nearly empty main road.
The familiar surroundings could barely calm the silver-haired boy as he made his way towards the local grocery shop. He didn't want to be here. What he wanted was to be in his room, listening to his tunes and relaxing. Being outside was too annoying for the antisocial teen, and he felt he had better things to do.
Pulling up to the grocery shop, Emil notices a boy standing at the storefront. He seemed to be admiring the mural on the store's large black-tinted windows. Emil notices that the boy was covered in paint and grimaces to himself. He hates it when kids think they have the right to walk around in such a disgusting state. More than that, he thought the careless parents of those rascals to be deplorable.
He sighs, shaking his head as he fastened his bike to the rack. He needed to be quick: in and out. All he needed to do was grab a carton of butter, head to self-checkout, and book it. That seemed simple enough. He turns to look at the paint-covered boy once more, only to notice a significantly taller man, probably a lot older than Emil, chatting him up. Emil wrinkles his nose at the display. He couldn't tell what they were talking about, but he was sure it was something stupid.
"Whatever." He mutters to himself, shrugging it off and heading inside the building. As the mechanical doors opened, a blast of hot air hits Emil, practically choking him. He winces against the warm as he entered, pulling his maroon winter coat off. It was too damn hot in here! It wasn't even that cold outside, but some idiot in management must've bumped up the heat anyways. Emil shakes his head at the thought, deciding that if he were running this joint, it'd be significantly cooler. And he'd put on some dope-ass metal, not the girlish pop-music they had playing gently through the speakers.
Emil stares up at the selection of butter blankly, forcing down the overwhelming urge to either scream or text Lukas. He hadn't realized there were so many types of butter... Which one does Lukas want? Emil bites his lower lip nervously, reaching for the cheapest carton he could find. It was some sort of off-brand butter, and it was 'Margarine' flavored, whatever that meant. Emil stares at the carton in his hands for only a second longer, unsure as to whether or no this was to correct choice. Maybe he should just ask Lukas? It couldn't hurt, but...
Emil shakes his head roughly, scoffing at his thoughts. As if he needed Lukas' help choosing butter! It was a simple choice, and it's not like it made a difference anyways. If Lukas wanted something specific, he should've gone out and gotten his own butter! Emil was in charge this time, and he decided that Lukas was going to get 'Margarine' flavored butter.
Emil hums to himself as he walks through the candy aisle. He was using Lukas' card, so he figured getting himself a little treat would work nicely as payback. Payback for forcing Emil out of the house to do his big brother's bidding. He reaches up to grab a bag of black licorice and smiles contentedly. He was, quite honestly, thrilled to tuck into these.
Emil walks his items to the self-service checkout lane slowly, admiring the bag of licorice lustily. He really couldn't wait to rip it open. It was like staring at his inevitable euphoria and not chasing after it. Actually, to Emil that was exactly what it was.
He scans the items before shoving them into a plastic grocery bag. He was as gentle as possible with his beloved black licorice. Taking up the bag, Emil quickly makes his way outside. Unfortunately, he was still holding his jacket.
Walking outside, Emil is met with a blast of icy cold air. It literally takes his breath away, and he drops the bag in favor of quickly throwing his coat on and zipping it. He felt relieved at the all too familiar warmth of the maroon jacket. Strangely, after washing it thousands of times, it still smelt vaguely of the person who'd leant it to him just this morning. He didn't mind it though, his big brother's cologne had a soothing aspect to it. In a way, the warmth of the coat made up for all the ice in Lukas' personality. This doesn't mean Emil loves Lukas, though, because he doesn't. He was just his stupid, cold mannered older brother. He just... Emil was just a little fond of him, and that was all. He'd grown attached, or something. However one would want to look at it, save for love. It was NOT love.
"A-ah!! Mister, move out of the way!" A shrill voice calls out, startling Emil out of his thoughts. He whips around to find the source of the voice, only to see the paint coated boy from before. He was staring at Emil, petrified. The man behind him looked amused by the situation. The man behind the boy points up nonchalantly, and Emil's gaze follows worriedly.
Oh. Paint. A bucket of paint, colored forest green, was rocketing towards Emil alongside a falling ladder. The silver-haired boy moves in time to avoid getting hit by the ladder and the paint bucket, but as the bucket hit the ground the paint splatters. Emil gasps in horror as the cold, thick substance splashes against him. He was coated in green, and Lukas' jacket was likely ruined.
"Oh my god..." Emil mutters, staring bug-eyed at his paint coated sleeves. The boy looked horrified, and decided to rush over to Emil's side. The man looked much more amused, but made no sounds as he trailed after the frail boy.
"Oh... O-oh my goodness, I'm... I'm s-so sorry!" Stammers the boy, stumbling over his feet as he rushed to Emil. Shock turned to anger within Emil as he stormed up to the kid.
"This is my Big Bror's jacket," He hisses through clenched teeth, his hands balled up into tight, angry fists. He felt tears pricking at his eyes through the frustration. "You ruined it, you damn brat!"
"Hey," The man interrupts evenly, resting a hand firmly on the trembling boy's shoulder. He gave Emil a small smile before continuing in a childishly gleeful tone. "Why don't we calm down? I'm sure he didn't mean to drench you in paint. As a matter of fact, I know he was too distracted to have done so."
"Eh?" The boy squeaks, flinching at the man's touch. He looked shocked.
"I was watching you paint after you finished explaining the purpose of the mural!" The man explains calmly, flashing the boy a small smile. Emil narrows his pale purple eyes at the two.
"You're telling me that the kid was painting a mural on a grocery shop window?" He asks coldly. The man gives a small laugh, crossing his arms.
"Yes, and he's getting paid handsomely for it. Besides, I doubt you're much older than he is." The man responds. Raivis nods reluctantly, wringing his hands.
"I'm actually a little older than I look." He murmurs. Emil scoffs, shaking his head. He didn't have time for them.
"Alright, whatever. Give me your number. And your name." Emil demands harshly, pulling his phone out from his pocket with his least soiled hand. The boy eyes him warily before taking the phone. The man glares at Emil.
"Why?" He asks, taking the phone from the boy.
"He's going to pay to replace these, or to get them washed properly. Whatever my big brother wants." Emil replies with a smirk, reaching for his phone. The man sighs, tapping at the screen.
"What are you doing?" The boy asks quietly, looking up at the man.
"I'll take care of it. I've got a long life to live, you don't. Besides, this wasn't your fault entirely." He responds with a shrug, tossing the phone to Emil.
"No, y-you don't have to--"
"It's fine little Raivis, I really don't mind." The man says with a grin. The boy goes stiff before moving closer to Emil. Emil was preparing to shove him away as the small blonde opened his mouth to speak.
"H-how..." He whispers, eyes wide with terror. The man quickly realizes his mistake.
"Hold on, it's not what you think." The man assures the kid. The boy simply shakes his head and grabs Emil's arm. Emil looks down at the trembling figure with both contempt and curiosity. What did the man say that irked him?
"No, I-I... How d-do you know my name?"