The soft knock on my door was an intrusion on the heavy silence.

"Raphael," he said, his voice slightly louder this time, "can we please talk?"

I stood frozen in the center of my room, the raw ache of disappointment still a tight knot in my chest. Part of me desired to ignore him, to retreat further into the fragile sanctuary of my solitude. What more was there to express?

Yet, another part of me, the part that had foolishly hoped for something more, felt a flicker of reluctant curiosity. Perhaps he had finally grasped the depth of my hurt.

Taking a deep breath, I moved towards the door, my hand hovering over the cool metal of the handle.

A sigh escaped my lips, the fight draining out of me. What was the purpose of silence?

I turned the handle, the click echoing in the quiet room, and pulled the door open just enough to perceive him standing there, his expression unreadable in the dim light spilling from the room.

"What is there to talk about, Levi?" I asked, my voice flat, the raw emotion still too close to the surface. "You have made your position abundantly clear."

"Because, Raphael," he stated, his voice lower, more earnest than before, "while I may not always express myself in the way you desire, I do value… our dynamic. And your distress is… notable. It is not my intent to cause you undue pain, even if my… directness sometimes has that effect. I wish to understand the depth of your reaction, to ascertain if there is a method to… navigate this."

A sigh escaped my lips, the tension in my shoulders easing ever so slightly. The defensiveness that had sprung up at his knock began to recede, replaced by a weary hope. If he was truly willing to understand…

I opened the door a little wider, stepping back to allow him entry.

"It felt," I began, my voice still a little rough around the edges, "like you reduced everything we have shared, everything we have just discussed, to a transaction. Like my vulnerability, my… my feelings, were just another item on a ledger to be compensated."

I looked at him, my gaze searching his for any sign of genuine comprehension. "It made me feel… disposable, Levi. Like the intimacy we share, the moments that sometimes feel… real… are just part of the service I provide."

Levi’s gaze softened, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "Disposable…" he murmured, the word hanging in the quiet of the room. "I discern. That was not my intent, Raphael, though I understand how my words might have conveyed that impression. My framework is often… pragmatic. But that does not necessarily equate to a devaluation of the… human elements within it. Especially… within our dynamic."

It was not the heartfelt understanding I craved, but it was a commencement.

"Those 'human elements', Levi," I began, my voice still carrying a trace of the earlier hurt, "are what render this… bearable. They are the moments when I forget, even just for a brief while, that there is a contract hanging over our heads. The moments of shared laughter, of genuine connection, even the heated debates where I feel as though you actually perceive me, not merely as someone fulfilling a role. Reducing everything to a transaction strips those moments of meaning. It made me feel like I was just performing on cue—for a price. And that," I admitted, "hurts."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Levi’s face—perhaps surprise, perhaps a hint of the hurt I had just confessed mirroring back at me in his own way. His voice, however, remained carefully neutral.

"So, in response to feeling… devalued, you wish to dissolve our contract?"

"Yeah," I affirmed, my voice firm despite the tremor of vulnerability that still lingered. "I do."

"I… I understand. I stated that I will not stand in your way if the moment comes."

His response was so… devoid of argument, so surprisingly accepting.

"You… you do?" I asked, the firmness in my voice wavering slightly, caught off guard by his lack of resistance. It was not the battle I had mentally prepared for.

He simply nodded, his gaze steady, though I thought I detected a flicker of something unreadable deep within his eyes. "I stated that I will not stand in your way, Raphael, if the moment comes when you truly desire to terminate our arrangement. While my… methods and motivations may often seem opaque, I do adhere to my word."

A sharp, incredulous laugh escaped my lips. "You are an idiot, Levi," I declared, shaking my head in disbelief. "Here you are, all solemn and accepting, and you completely missed the point."

I stepped closer, a spark of something—defiance, perhaps even a twisted form of hope—reigniting within me. "I desire to dissolve the contract," I clarified, my voice gaining a new intensity, "because I think I have another idea. For better or for worse."

I was not seeking an escape from him entirely; I was seeking a different kind of connection, one not bound by the cold, hard terms of a contract.

"Well… I am inclined to hear your… idea."

"I think we should… date."

A slow blink was Levi's initial reaction, his typically composed features momentarily blank with surprise. He tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful frown returning to his brow.

"Date," he repeated. "As in… the conventional courtship rituals employed by humans in pursuit of… romantic entanglement?" He paused, his gaze searching mine, a hint of curiosity warring with a more cautious skepticism. "Explain your reasoning. I confess, the logic of this… progression eludes me."

"Yes, Levi," I affirmed, meeting his analytical gaze with a newfound steadiness. I took a step closer. "The contract," I explained, my voice softer now, but no less resolute, "defined our roles, our obligations. It provided a framework, as you like to say. But it also… limited us. It kept a distance, a transactional barrier between whatever else might have been growing between us."

I gestured between us, a small, hopeful smile touching my lips. "What if we removed that barrier? What if we explored what could be between us without the weight of that agreement dictating every interaction? No more 'compensation' for intimacy, no more roles to play. Just… us."

"Before you entertain that notion further, Raphael," he stated, his voice measured, "do you fully realize who it is you are asking to… date? Are you cognizant of my… position, my responsibilities, the complexities of my life? Also," he added, his gaze direct, unwavering, "are you aware that I have never… engaged in what you term a 'romantic relationship' before?"

"Wait? Really? You never dated before?" I exclaimed, my voice laced with utter disbelief. "What the actual fuck, Levi? You were married for five years!"

"Raphael," he began, his tone laced with a hint of the exasperation he often reserved for what he perceived as illogical human behavior, "when I stated that the noble houses are, for all intents and purposes, one sprawling, interconnected family, I meant it quite literally. Julia is, byzantine as our family trees are, my cousin. Yes," he confirmed, his gaze unwavering, "we were married. For five years. But obviously, given the familial connection and the strategic nature of the union, we never… shared a bed in the manner you are likely imagining. Intimacy, in that context, was neither expected nor desired."

My brow furrowed in confusion, the pieces of this bizarre puzzle refusing to quite fit. "Wait, wait…" I began, my mind racing. "But then… why did you have condoms at your house when we first… married then?"

Levi sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if battling a headache. "Raphael," he said, his gaze direct, tinged with a touch of exasperation, "are you truly asking that?"

A wry smile tugged at my lips despite the lingering confusion. "Honestly, Levi, I am not entirely sure why I am asking," I admitted, a playful glint in my eyes. "But I did ask already. And," I added, a touch of mischievousness in my voice, "it is rather… entertaining watching you get even slightly flustered. It is a rare sight."

I leaned back slightly, enjoying the uncharacteristic disruption in his usual composure.

"So," I pressed gently, my curiosity piqued, "care to enlighten me? Are you secretly sexually promiscuous? Hm?"

A sigh, laced with a hint of genuine weariness, escaped Levi's lips. "Raphael," he stated, his gaze direct and unwavering, "I truthfully think you will not favor the answer."

"Okay, try me then."

A shadow seemed to cross Levi's features, his gaze darkening slightly. He hesitated for a long moment, as if weighing the potential consequences of his words.

"Very well, Raphael," he articulated finally, his voice low and devoid of its usual playful undertones. "Since you insist. There have been… instances in the past where I have engaged in… intimate encounters with certain individuals. These encounters were not driven by personal desire, but rather by… necessity."

He paused, his gaze flicking away for a fleeting second before returning to mine, his expression carefully neutral. "These individuals held positions of influence or possessed information that was… crucial to the objectives I was pursuing. Establishing a… closer relationship, however… unconventional, facilitated the acquisition of that information or the cultivation of their… cooperation."

A cold wave of understanding washed over me, the playful curiosity replaced by a sense of unease and a dawning realization of the lengths to which Levi was willing to go to achieve his goals.

My voice was flat, the playful tone entirely gone, replaced by disbelief. "So, you… fucked people into being your spies?"

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"Rather colorful language, Raphael, but in brief… yes," Levi confirmed, his tone matter-of-fact, devoid of apology or remorse. "As I explicitly warned you, it was unlikely to be an answer you would find… palatable."

"Actually, Levi," I admitted, a wry twist to my lips, "I never thought you would go to that extent. Calculated manipulation for information, perhaps through strategic alliances or leveraging influence, I could have envisioned. But using intimacy as a tool? That… genuinely surprised me. I even thought you would scoff at the very idea, consider it beneath you, somehow… distasteful."

Distaste finally crossed Levi's features. "And I never stated I enjoyed it, Raphael," he articulated, his voice flat, devoid of any amusement. "Or liked it. Or desired it. It was required, and therefore, it transpired."

It did not excuse the manipulation, but it perhaps offered a glimpse into a more complex internal landscape than his initial nonchalance suggested.

"Okay, before we speak more of your morally gray, ambiguous, and actually not even gray, dark past, did I get rejected? Or are you thinking?"

A sigh, this time carrying a note of something akin to weary resignation, escaped Levi's lips. He pinched the bridge of his nose again, a gesture that seemed to indicate a growing frustration.

"Raphael," he stated, his voice flat, "I was… processing the rather significant revelation you have just elicited. But to answer your question directly, no, you have not been explicitly 'rejected.' Nor am I merely 'thinking,' in the casual sense of the word."

He lowered his hand, his gaze meeting mine with a directness that brooked no further evasion. "I am… evaluating the potential ramifications of your proposal, particularly in light of the information that has recently come to light. The notion of a… romantic entanglement requires a degree of transparency and mutual trust that… recent disclosures have somewhat complicated."

A small, wry smile touched my lips. "Yeah, it rather does complicate things, doesn't it?" I conceded.

"So," I suggested, the playful tone returning, albeit tinged with a newfound caution, "how about we table the 'romantic entanglement' for the moment? Perhaps a less… fraught activity would be more appropriate for navigating these 'recent disclosures'."

I gestured towards the coffee table in the living room. "How about some tea, Levi? We can… talk. No pressure, no expectations beyond a civil conversation about the rather large elephant that has just lumbered into the room."

"I do not enjoy tea; they all taste like urine to me. But if you promise something sweet to drink, I will comply."

...

Finally settling onto the plush cushions of the couch in the living room, a comfortable distance settled between us. The unspoken weight of Levi's past actions and the uncertain future of our connection still lingered, but the simple act of sharing this space, with our chosen beverages in hand, felt like a tentative step forward.

“Levi, truth, the full truth, and nothing but the truth. You are the biggest asshole I have ever seen in my life. You are calculating, manipulative, cold and ruthlessly pragmatic. Your honesty is brutal, and it is impossible to understand your calculated cruelty.”

A slow smile spread across Levi's lips, a genuine warmth softening the sharp angles of his face. He leaned back against the cushions, cradling his mug of hot chocolate.

"Truthfully, Raphael, that is a rather… interesting love confession. Brutally honest, as you say. But do continue. I find your… assessment of my character particularly insightful."

He watched me, a curious intensity in his gaze, waiting for me to elaborate on this unexpected declaration.

I took a deep breath, the words tumbling out, a mixture of exasperation and a surprising tenderness. "But I still like you, damn it," I confessed, gesturing vaguely with my teacup. "Instead of taking strolls in a garden like normal people, we navigate the treacherous landscapes of powerful families, picking them apart like exotic, dangerous flowers. Every evening, every dinner, every unexpected morning… everything with you is grandiose, utterly unpredictable, and completely disarming."

A small, almost helpless smile touched my lips. "So, yeah. I like you, Levi. Even though you are, without a doubt, the biggest asshole I have ever had the misfortune – or perhaps fortune – to know."

He leaned back further into the cushions, a picture of relaxed contemplation.

"Are those all the insults you can conjure, Pulla?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble, laced with amusement and something else… perhaps a hint of something akin to fondness. "Or do you wish to elaborate further on my… numerous shortcomings?"

"Oh, I do wish to elaborate, Levi," I declared, my voice trembling slightly with the force of my confession. "I have so many things to say, a chaotic storm of contradictions you've managed to brew within me. I thought you were a lion, a shark – a predator, certainly. But no," I shook my head, a small, almost disbelieving smile touching my lips, "you are undoubtedly the Devil himself in the flesh."

I gestured emphatically, my emotions spilling out. "And yet… you are so utterly charming, so incredibly seductive, even when you're being infuriating. I even found myself… touched by the ridiculously specific way you instructed me to sleep on my right side when my stitches were still fresh. And your absurdly sweet drinks! It's fascinating to watch someone so controlled indulge in such childish pleasures."

My voice softened, a note of genuine awe creeping in. "And the way you command a room, Levi. Not with booming pronouncements, but with a single, glacial glance. The way you disarm the most formidable adversaries with a single, carefully chosen word. And that cold fury that sometimes flickers in your eyes… it's petrifying, yes, but also… utterly, inexplicably alluring."

"So yeah, Levi," I repeated, a small, helpless smile returning. "I like you. In spite of everything. In spite of you."

Levi leaned forward slightly, his gaze holding mine with a newfound intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. The usual cool detachment in his eyes was replaced by a searching, almost vulnerable curiosity.

"So, despite knowing the depths of my… darkness, Raphael," he murmured, his voice a low, resonant hum in the quiet room, "you still… like me? Why? What is it that draws you to this 'Devil'?"

"First of all, Levi," I began, meeting his intense gaze with a surprising steadiness, "you don't get to dictate how one feels, okay? It's not logical, no, of course not. It rarely ever is. But what can I do? Just… stop everything? Flip a switch and erase the way I feel? It doesn't work like that."

I took a slow breath, the air heavy in my lungs. "And before you continue down that predictable path, yeah, I know. Logically, statistically, I will likely be the one who ends up heartbroken in this… unconventional entanglement. But that doesn't negate the fact that I appreciate the time we've spent together. The chaos, the unexpectedness, even the glimpses of something… more beneath your facade."

My gaze softened, a genuine warmth reaching my eyes. "Perhaps it's foolish. Perhaps I'm setting myself up for inevitable pain. But right now, in this moment, despite the 'Devil' you claim to be, I… value this. And I'm willing to see where this illogical, messy thing between us might lead."

"I will say this once, Raphael, and it will be the last time," he stated, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "You having feelings for me means that I will use those feelings. I will manipulate them, perhaps even further than I already have. Not necessarily out of malice, but because it is my nature. Just as you cannot erase your own inherent tendencies, I cannot erase mine."

The "Devil" he had alluded to earlier now stood fully revealed, unrepentant and unapologetic.

“I know, just like did an hour ago. But, I am kinda starting to see your manipulation, also as much as you hide it you have a smile that says ‘I am plotting, scheming something.’ That’s how I can tell mostly tell.”

A slow smile, devoid of warmth but undeniably present, spread across Levi's lips. "Indeed," he murmured, his gaze unwavering. "You are learning, Raphael. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

He wasn't denying his manipulative nature, but he seemed almost… intrigued by my growing awareness of it.

"Raphael," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous caress, "your awareness… your defiance… it does not deter me. In fact," a slow, predatory smile stretched across his lips, "it makes me want to break you even more. To push you to the very edge, to the point where you curse to every God you know, the day you ever met this 'Devil'."

A wry, almost disbelieving smile touched my lips. Despite the chilling weight of his threat, a flicker of defiance, perhaps even a touch of foolish hope, still flickered within me.

"I am still acutely aware, Levi," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor that ran through me, "that you are a vengeful, god-playing tyrant. That much has become abundantly clear."

I met his predatory gaze, refusing to back down. "But," I continued, a small, almost reckless spark igniting within me, "I think… I'm going to try and find a way to… channel that rather potent dark energy of yours into something… else. Yeah?"

The idea felt absurd, almost laughably naive. But a stubborn refusal to be broken, a defiant belief in the possibility of something more, however faint, propelled me forward.

A low chuckle rumbled in Levi's chest, a sound that held no warmth, only a hint of dark amusement.

"Raphael," he murmured, his voice a dangerous caress, "I think you are not nearly scared enough."

He leaned in slightly. "You speak of channeling my 'dark energy' as if it were a mere stream to be diverted. You fail to grasp its true nature, its depth, its all-consuming power. Your defiance is… quaint. Your hope, utterly naive."

"I know it's naive, Levi," I admitted, my voice a little shaky now, the bravado cracking slightly. "But what should I do, hm? Abandon this weird, bizarre, wrathful, vengeful man? No way." I shook my head, a strange mix of fear and stubborn determination churning within me. "My life would be boring, for one. Utterly, soul-crushingly boring. And besides," I confessed, meeting his intense gaze with a flicker of honesty, "who said that I wasn't scared? I am fucking terrified, Levi. Absolutely terrified."

I wasn't fearless; I was acutely aware of the danger he represented. But the prospect of a life without the unpredictable chaos he brought, the strange, twisted connection we shared, felt even more daunting.

"Ah, pulla," he murmured, his voice a low, knowing caress. "I can feel that heart of yours thumping in your rib cage from here. Doesn't every cell in your body scream to run away? To flee from this 'weird, bizarre, wrathful, vengeful man' you so eloquently described?"

He leaned closer, his presence both threatening and strangely alluring. "Do you even comprehend what I might demand from a romantic partner, hm? That contract, that 'transaction' you so despised, was your lifeline. It offered you leverage, an escape route the moment things escalated beyond your control. But you, in your defiance, denied every instinct for self-preservation, you refused the very thing that might one day save you."

I met his intense gaze, a strange calm settling over me despite the tremor in my hands. "And what exactly are these… demands, Levi?" I asked, my voice low and steady. "What does the Devil require from his paramour?"

Levi paused for a long while, his intense gaze not wavering from mine, though his expression seemed to shift, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his features. He glanced around the dimly lit space as if considering unseen forces, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

Finally, he spoke, his voice lower, the dangerous edge softened by a surprising note of… something akin to sincerity. "Raphael, I value you as a person higher than a lover. But I am merciful." He gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. "I think," he concluded, his gaze returning to mine with a strange mix of intensity and… reluctance, "we should cease this conversation. For now."

"Cease the conversation?" I echoed, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach despite the surprising shift in his tone. "Why, Levi? What changed? It feels like you're stopping just when things were getting… interesting."

"Because it is like watching a rabbit walking towards a saw trap, Raphael," he stated, his voice regaining its familiar, chillingly detached tone. "And despite my… unconventional nature, I find unnecessary carnage… tedious."

He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "So, spend your time thinking, Raphael. Ponder what you truly want from me. And more importantly, contemplate what I might do when this… fleeting niceness inevitably evaporates. I do not wish to discuss this further tonight. I believe," he inclined his head slightly, a gesture that held no warmth, "that both of us require some time. I really do wish you a good night."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone.