He turned to face me fully, his gaze direct but not accusatory. "Raphael," he began, his voice low and steady, "I know I hurt you. Deeply. Seeing your reaction in the council room... it was like a physical blow."

He paused, as if searching for the right words. "In my focus, in my determination to change things, I... I didn't fully consider the impact it would have on you. What I did... it was necessary, Raphael. I still believe that with every fiber of my being."

"Look at me, Levi," I began, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "It's not just the methods you employed, the cold efficiency of your revolution, or the council room – though those things haunt me still."

"It's you, Levi. The core of who you have become. It's not about the secrets you kept, the weight of your family history, the stain of your noble blood, or even the breathtaking ease with which you seized power. It's not about the external circumstances." I leaned forward slightly, my gaze unwavering. "It's about the man who stood there, detached and absolute, convinced of his own righteousness even as he inflicted such pain. That man... that is who I struggle to reconcile with the person I once loved."

Levi remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the sand at his feet. The raw honesty in my voice seemed to have struck a chord. The usual intensity in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of something akin to... confusion? Or perhaps a dawning, painful understanding.

When he finally looked up, his expression was stripped bare. "So," he said, his voice low and almost a whisper, "it's not about what I did, but who I am."

He paused, as if grappling with the weight of my words. "And who... who do you think I am, Raphael?"

There was a vulnerability in his question, that surprised me. It was as if, for the first time, he was truly seeing himself through my eyes.

A soft sigh escaped me, the words I spoke laced with a profound weariness. "You are someone perpetually out of reach, Levi," I said, my gaze steady despite the ache in my chest. "Distant. It's as if you reside on a different plane of existence, where the concerns and vulnerabilities of ordinary people are abstractions."

I gestured softly, encompassing the quiet beauty of the twilight. "It's impossible to truly see you as human, Levi, because you don't see anyone else that way. People are pieces on your board, obstacles to be overcome, or instruments to achieve your grand design. Even your affection feels… calculated, a strategic move rather than a genuine connection."

A muscle twitched in Levi's jaw, the only outward sign of the impact of my words. His gaze, however, remained fixed on me, unwavering. There was no immediate denial, no flash of anger. Instead, a dawning that looked painful.

"Perhaps," he conceded, his voice low and rough, "perhaps you are right. "

He looked out at the darkening sea, his expression troubled. "But I always saw you..."

“Levi. You always called me ‘Pulla’. Which meant, skittish. And you purposely took me inside that room. Where you unleashed a raw, cold, fury and a second later you chuckled like a child? What did you expect from me there? That I hug you and stroke your ego, what was the endgame in that?”

He finally broke eye contact, his gaze drifting back out to the turbulent sea as the last vestiges of daylight faded.

"Pulla," he murmured, the nickname sounding foreign and heavy on his tongue. He paused, a long silence stretching between us before he spoke again, his voice low and strained. "The council room... that was a mistake. A miscalculation. I wanted you to understand the necessity, the weight of what I was doing. I wanted you to see the ugliness I was fighting against, so you would understand why such drastic measures were needed."

He finally turned back to me, his eyes filled with a raw, almost desperate intensity. "I expected... I don't know what I expected. Not a hug, certainly. But perhaps... understanding. Or at least... acceptance that it had to be done."

“No… No. Do not go that path of persuasion. Do you remember, after your mother ordered my assassination, you burnt down a mansion for retribution. Then you told me that you evacuated everybody to their safety. I am sure you remember my reaction to seeing the inferno from the window. Was it not clear to you, that I would not… find it okay to see you, making ten powerful men beg to you with a snap of fingers?”

Levi’s gaze flickered, a spark of defensiveness momentarily igniting before being quickly suppressed. He ran a hand through his hair, a rare display of agitation.

“That was different, Raphael,” he said, his voice tight. “That was about protecting you. Retribution for what they tried to do. They were a direct threat.”

He paused, struggling to find the right words. “The council… they weren’t innocent, Raphael. They were entrenched in a system that was bleeding this country dry. What I did… it was a necessary surgery, however brutal it may have seemed. I ensured their families would be provided for, that there wouldn’t be unnecessary suffering.”

He looked at me, his eyes pleading for understanding. “Don’t you see? It wasn’t about the power, the spectacle of them begging. It was about dismantling their authority, showing everyone that the old order was gone. It had to be decisive, swift, so there wouldn’t be a prolonged period of chaos and instability.”

His justifications, however logical they might sound in his own mind, felt hollow. The burning mansion, the begging councilmen – different scenarios, perhaps, but both painted with the same brushstroke of absolute authority wielded without empathy for the human cost.

“I never said you were wrong. I understand the abuse you suffered, with your family. I understand why you did what you did. But… It does not change the fact that I was traumatized. I still have nightmares sometimes.”

A visible wave of something – perhaps understanding, perhaps frustration – washed over Levi's face. He ran a hand through his hair again.

"I know, Raphael," he said, his voice softer now, the defensive edge gone. "Finn told me about the nightmares. And I... I apologize for that. I never wanted to cause you that kind of pain."

He looked down at his hands, his expression troubled. "The abuse... it shaped me, yes. It fueled a need for change, a burning desire to dismantle the systems that allowed such cruelty to flourish. But you're right. Understanding the root of my actions doesn't excuse the impact those actions had on you. And for that... for the fear and the nightmares... I apologize."

His apology felt more genuine this time, stripped of justification.

"Well... Please tell me about your three months. How were you?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Levi hesitated for a long moment, his gaze drifting out to the darkening sea before returning to me. The shift in topic seemed to catch him off guard.

"The last three months..." he began, his voice a little rough, as if unused to talking about himself in such a personal way. "They've been... a whirlwind. The initial transition was more volatile than I anticipated. There was resistance, pockets of loyalists who refused to accept the new order. It required... decisive action."

He quickly softened his tone, seeming to catch himself. "But things have begun to stabilize. The cabinet is functioning, albeit with it's own internal power struggles. We've begun implementing some of the reforms I spoke about – land redistribution, education initiatives..." He recounted these developments in a factual, almost detached manner, the visionary leader outlining his progress.

Then, his gaze softened again, a hint of something else entering his voice. "Personally... it's been isolating. There are few people I can truly trust." He paused, his eyes meeting mine. "I missed you, Raphael. More than I expected."

He knows my weaknesses, knows how much I crave genuine connection. Is this a moment of vulnerability, or just another manipulation? My gut clenched.

His lips met mine with a tenderness. It was a soft exploration, a tentative re-acquaintance after our long, painful separation. A spark ignited within me as that gentle pressure, that familiar warmth, bloomed through my being. This spark chased away the chill of the past months, reigniting a long-dormant flame.

The electricity coursing through me wasn't the burning shock of fear I'd known before, but a vibrant energy. It was a powerful reminder of the deep connection that had always existed between us, buried beneath layers of power and pain. In that single, transformative kiss, the possibility of a future – a future as Raphael and Levi Everett – felt not just like a distant dream, but a tangible, breathtaking reality. The bridge, it seemed, might just begin to build with this simple, profound act of reconnection.

Levi breathed against my ear. “I missed you, pulla.”

"I missed you too, Levi," I whispered back, the words catching in my throat. The admission felt like a dam breaking, releasing the pent-up loneliness and yearning of the past months. Holding him close, feeling the familiar strength of his arms, a sense of rightness settled over me.

The tenderness of Levi's initial kiss gave way to a more urgent yearning, a reflection of the three long months we had spent apart, each day an echo of the other's absence. His hands, tentative moments before, now traced a slow, deliberate path along my arm, down to the curve of my waist, each touch a rediscovery. I mirrored his exploration, my fingers finding purchase on the familiar breadth of his shoulders, the nape of his neck where his hair always felt surprisingly soft against my skin. The subtle, clean scent of him, a constant in my memory, filled my senses. The sharp angles of his face, the striking line of his prominent nose, features I had committed to memory, were now achingly real beneath my fingertips. A sigh escaped me. Yes, every fiber of my being had missed him, this moment.

His hands tightened slightly on my waist, pressing my hips flush against his, until there was no space left between us.

“Allow me to apologize to you, once again, pulla,” he whispered against my ear, his hand firmly cupping my buttock. His grip on my hips tightened momentarily, pulling me impossibly closer, before softening again, his thumbs idly stroking.

"Your apologies are... noted, Levi," I murmured back, my own lips brushing lightly against the shell of his ear, feeling the delicate ridges. The rekindled desire, was undeniable, a pulsing warmth spreading through my core.

Then, a mischievous glint sparked in my eyes, cutting through the heavy emotion. "Oh," I said, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of my lips, "and just so you know... I don't have any condoms or lube here."

Levi stilled for a heartbeat, the heat radiating from his body momentarily intensifying, a sudden, taut stillness in his muscles. Then, a low chuckle escaped him, the sound echoing in the quiet night air. He pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of something else… anticipation.

"Well, pulla," he murmured, his thumbs gently stroking the curve of my hips, his touch sending tiny electric currents through my skin, "it seems we have a delightful predicament." His gaze flickered down to my lips, then back up to meet my eyes.

"Necessity," he continued, a playful glint in his eyes, "is the mother of invention."

A slow smile spread across my face, mirroring the playful glint in his eyes. "Yes, Levi," I agreed, my own hands sliding from his neck to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart thrumming beneath my fingertips. "And I have always found you to be… resourceful."