The city blurred past my window, all soft streaks of orange and gold melting into dusk. I sat still in the passenger seat, watching headlights pass like flickers of thought I couldn't quite catch—or didn't want to.
Levi hadn't said much since we got in the car. I hadn't either. But the quiet wasn't awkward. It never was with him. Still, tonight… it felt like the silence was holding its breath. Like it wanted something from me.I know I just apologized for being in his space few minutes ago but I just couldn't help it
I curled my fingers together in my lap, sneaking a glance at him. His face was calm—focused. One hand on the wheel, steady as ever. I let myself look a second longer than I probably should've. He always seemed so grounded, so sure of his place in the world. And me? I was just… drifting. Living in a space that wasn't mine, taking up air I wasn't sure I deserved.
I took a slow breath.
"Levi?" I said, quietly.
"Hmm?" he answered, eyes still on the road.
"I just…" I hesitated. "I know I've been at your place longer than I planned. In your house. Your space. Your mornings. Your… coffee machine."
I tried to laugh, but it came out small, shaky. God, my throat was tight.
"I know Ive said it before but I'm really am trying to figure things out. I don't want to keep imposing. I don't want to make your life messy. I'll be out of your hair soon."
The car slowed to a red light, and in the dim glow, I felt him glance at me.
"Amelia," he said. Just my name, but it made my heart stutter.
I looked over, and everything in me tensed.
"You're not in my way," he said, gently. Firmly. "Not even a little."
I blinked. My lips parted, but nothing came out.
"You're not a burden, I've said it before and I'll say it again" he added. "You're… actually the quietest part of my day. The calmest."
That word—calmest—settled into me like warmth after a long cold stretch. I didn't believe it right away. Not fully. But he meant it. I could hear it in his voice.
"I don't want you rushing to leave just because you think you're taking up space," he said. "You're not. You're here. And I like that."
I blinked fast, trying to stop the sting behind my eyes. I turned back to the window, and—God—was I smiling?
"Thank you," I whispered, not even sure if he heard me.
But then his hand reached over, just for a second. Fingers brushed against mine—soft, warm—and then returned to the wheel.
I held on to that brief touch like it was the only solid thing in the world.
Because maybe, just maybe, it was.
********
---
I stretched, eyes barely open, the familiar scent of Levi's linen-scented detergent grounding me. The surreal state of the room wanted to keep mr in there forever. The sun slipped through the blinds like it knew I needed the nudge. I had work. I had things to prove. I had to not overstay.
Dragging myself out of bed, I brushed through the silence, hair pulled into a loose bun as I padded to the kitchen. I figured if I made breakfast, it would—what? Soften the guilt? Say "thank you" without awkward words? I just wanted to do something, I know Levi has reassured me that I'm not a burden, but a little help wouldn't hurt anyone would it?
I pulled out eggs and bread, letting the rhythm of the skillet distract me. The house was quiet except for the soft crackle of butter and the occasional clink of cutlery.
And then I heard him.
Feet on the stairs.
I turned and there he was.
Levi, hair messy, eyes half-lidded with sleep, wearing nothing but a black tank top, and joggers that hung way too low on his hips. My brain short-circuited for a second. Maybe two. He looked like a God! And I'm pretty sure he knows
"Morning," he said, voice thick with sleep.
"Morning," I replied, trying not to burn the toast or look at his arms. Or the way his voice lingered in the air like heat.
"You're up early," he murmured, opening the fridge like this was any other morning.
"I figured I'd make breakfast before heading out," I said, still stirring, still pretending this wasn't messing with my head.
He blinked. "You know it's the Fourth, right?"
I turned slowly. "What?"
He chuckled—soft, warm, amused. "Public holiday. No work today."
The spatula hung mid-air.
You've got to be kidding me.
My heart skipped. The Fourth of July. A day I'd been so focused on work, I hadn't even noticed the date slip past me like smoke. I remembered it was the favorite holiday of a terminally ill character in a teen-fiction I and Myra loved. Wow I forgot sussanah's Favorite holiday.
Levi's eyes caught mine with a gentle tease, but there was no judgment, only that quiet understanding that somehow made me feel less like an intruder in his space.
"Guess I overdid it, huh?" I muttered, cheeks flushing as I flipped the eggs.
He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "You don't have to prove anything today, Amelia."
His voice was soft but firm, grounding me in a way words rarely did.
I set the plates on the table, stealing a glance at him as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with those steady eyes. I wanted to tell him I'd sort things out soon—find my own place, stop being a burden. But the words tangled in my throat.
Instead, I smiled—small, tentative.
He smiled back.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone.
I handed him a plate of scrambled eggs, trying to look casual but secretly feeling like I was in one of those cheesy rom-com scenes. Levi took the plate, glanced at it, then at me, and smirked.
"So, Chef Amelia, what's the secret ingredient? A dash of desperation?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I laughed, flipping a piece of toast onto my plate. "Hey, don't knock desperation. It's what gets people out of bed early."
He took a bite and nodded approvingly. "I'll give you that. Though I'm pretty sure my motivation to stay in bed is stronger than your culinary skills."
I rolled my eyes. "Keep dreaming. You'll be eating burnt toast if you don't appreciate these eggs."
He chuckled and took a sip of coffee. "Fair enough. But don't expect me to start making breakfast anytime soon. I have standards."
I grinned. "Standards, huh? So no cooking lessons for me then?"
"Not unless you want to risk me setting the kitchen on fire."
We both laughed, the warmth between us growing with every shared smile and stolen glance. Then he spoke up
"Wanna do something fun?"