He retreated to the bedroom. I even grabbed a glass of water and another yogurt pack for him.

In the bedroom, Levi hadn't moved from where I'd left him, his gaze still sweeping over my possessions. He wasn't rifling through drawers or touching anything, but the intensity of his perusal felt like a different kind of intimacy. His eyes lingered on a framed photo of me in the movie costume. He then moved on to the clothes draped over the back of a chair, his gaze lingering on a silken scarf. It was as if he were trying to decipher the pieces of me that existed outside our encounters, piecing together the puzzle of Raphael. He accepted the water and yogurt with a quiet nod, his eyes still holding that curious gleam.

Shit. How could I have forgotten? Levi’s food aversion… the yogurt was probably the last thing he wanted.

“Ah, Levi. I am so sorry,” I stammered, my face flushing. “You don’t have to eat that at all. I completely forgot. I can bring you something sweet, some of those honey cakes you like?”

He looked at the yogurt in his hand, then back at me, a small frown creasing his brow. “It is alright, Raphael,” he said quietly, picking up the spoon. “I will eat in small bites.”

The scene was undeniably surreal. Levi, his toned and powerful physique still naked, sat perched on the edge of my bed, delicately spooning yogurt into his mouth in tiny, almost hesitant bites.

"I apologize," Levi said quietly, a hint of distaste still lingering on his lips. "It seems I still cannot stomach savory dishes." He placed the half-eaten yogurt cup on the bedside table.

I sat down beside him on the edge of the bed, reaching out to place my hand over his. "No, no, it's my fault entirely, Levi," I said softly, my fingers gently stroking the back of his hand. "I should have remembered."

He turned his head, his cheek nuzzling into my palm.

“We do not have to continue, if you do not wish so, Raphael,” he murmured, his cheek still resting against my palm.

The offer, so gently presented, surprised me.

“I am tired yes, but I don’t want to stop completely. Not if you don’t.”

"Never," Levi replied, his gaze locking intently with mine, his cheek still resting softly against my palm.

The duality of Levi was a constant source of fascination and a touch of bewilderment. He could utter words that sent shivers down my spine, a potent mix of possessiveness and raw desire, yet in the same breath, offer a gesture of such unexpected tenderness. It was this constant interplay of dominance and vulnerability, of fierce intensity and surprising gentleness, that made him so utterly captivating and undeniably complex. It was like navigating a storm on a calm sea, the potential for both exhilarating heights and unexpected depths always present.

"You're a strange man, Levi," I murmured, my thumb gently stroking the soft skin of his cheek resting in my palm. "Saying things like that while..." I shifted my gaze slightly, a small smile playing on my lips, "...doing that."

"Black and white, right or wrong... such boring concepts," Levi murmured, his cheek still a trusting weight against my palm. His gaze, however, held a distant intensity. "To confine oneself to a single side of any coin is to miss the exquisite dance of the turning. The true beauty, the genuine amusement... ah, that blossoms in the shadowed spaces between."

He spoke with a quiet conviction, as if revealing a fundamental truth about himself.

"Also, Raphael," he said, his voice taking on a firmer edge, "I am quite offended that you might even think for a second that I might force myself upon you. I am not a savage. My desires, however intense, are always meant to be a shared experience, a dance of willing participants."

"It is not that, obviously," I hastened to clarify, gently stroking his cheek. "It was just... the contrast. I was surprised by this gentleness. It's a bit disorienting, in a way." I offered a small, apologetic smile. "But I am sorry if I implied anything else. I know you wouldn't."

A sigh escaped his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Disorienting," he echoed softly, his gaze softening as well. "Perhaps. But even in the midst of the storm, there are moments of calm. And those moments," his eyes flickered down to my hand still resting on his cheek, "are just as essential." He turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss into the center of my palm. "Thank you for understanding."

Again. His duality. His capacity for savagery, for terror, while kissing the inside of my palm. Ah, I was a fucking idiot. After running away from him for months, I was here being swayed by him once again.

While my mind reeled from the familiar pull of his duality, a light bulb flickered to life in the recesses of my mind. The porch... the salty air... the vulnerability of that confession. I had proposed to him. There, under the vast sky, when I had offered him the freedom to be Levi Everett, fully and without reservation.

I proposed to him, the moment he pulled his car on the driveway.

What an idiot.

"Shit. I think I proposed to you, Levi," I blurted out, the realization hitting me with a sudden force.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound both amused and undeniably pleased. "Do you realize that just now, Pulla?" he asked, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter, his eyes sparkling.

The childlike amusement in his eyes faded, replaced by a knowing glint. "We were never legally divorced, though," he added, his voice dropping to a low, resonant murmur.

"What? Never divorced?" I stammered, my mind reeling. "But... I thought..."

Levi's gaze was steady, unwavering. "You never signed the final divorce papers, Raphael. Remember? You left the capital rather abruptly." A hint of his old authority flickered in his eyes. "Also," he continued, a wry smile playing on his lips, "even though the old nobility is being stripped of their formal titles, and a new order is beginning to take root, the wheels of law turn slowly, especially when it concerns those who once held significant standing. A Duke seeking divorce? It's not a simple affair. It takes years of bureaucratic wrangling. And then there's the traditional cool-off period for noble marriages – at least a year of separation mandated before a legal dissolution is even considered."

"Year? A cool-off period?" I repeated, disbelief lacing my voice. "Are you serious, Levi? After everything that happened, after the reasons I left, we're still legally bound by some archaic noble law?"

Levi's expression hardened. "It took Julia and me nearly three years to navigate the legal labyrinth of our divorce. And yes," he confirmed, his tone laced with a chilling satisfaction, "that is precisely why I crushed every single one of those pesky, well-fed swine who stood in our way. The old ways may linger in the law books, but they no longer have any real power, especially not over people who simply wish for something as straightforward as a divorce."

"It is going to sound really out-of-place and absurd, given that we're both naked, and you are still... quite enthusiastic," I gestured vaguely downwards, a nervous chuckle escaping my lips, "but I would be glad if you talked more about your life. I mean, you were married for five years, and I barely know anything personal about you, Levi. Beyond... well, this."

He reached out, his fingers tracing a line down my chest, sending a shiver through me despite the warmth of the morning. "Well then, dearest Raphael," he purred, his voice a low rumble. "Let us play a game. You ask your questions, delve into the mysteries of my past, and in return..." His gaze dropped pointedly to his own still-sensitive flesh, "...you help me manage this... persistent enthusiasm."

"Fine," I agreed, a nervous anticipation fluttering in my chest. The terms of his game were predictably... him. "But be gentle, Levi. And I don't want your usual vague, says-everything-and-nothing bullshit. I want real answers. Honest ones."

…

We both shifted, crawling back onto the bed. This time, I took the initiative, my fingers wrapping around his still-firm cock. The tension thrumming beneath my touch was palpable; it must have been agony for him to hold back this long.

"First," I began, my voice a low murmur, "why was there a clause in our... contact, that specifically forbade me from entering your study?"

Levi sighed. "That study belonged solely to me. Other than you and I, nobody even knew of its existence. It was my sanctuary, the place where I stored my most sensitive plans, my evidence... yes, even evidence of some of my own... less savory doings."

"How was your last marriage?" I continued, my fingers gently stroking the length of him.

"Julia and I were primarily political allies," he replied, his gaze distant, "and also... cousins. A rather common arrangement amongst our circles. We were both eighteen when the marriage was arranged. I spent the next four years at Royal Academia. We barely saw each other, our interactions limited to discussing strategic alliances or exchanging pertinent information."

"Why did you engage in so much charity, to the point where you called Saint of Ascaria?" My touch grew a little firmer.

A wry smile touched his lips. "It proved to be the most impactful method of garnering widespread support, particularly amongst those who had little. Also," he chuckled softly, "at that point, my coffers had... overflowed somewhat. I needed a way to redistribute the wealth, shall we say. The outrage amongst the nobles who had 'invested' in my endeavors, when they realized their funds were being used to benefit the ‘commoners’, was... quite amusing. After a time, I confess, I found a certain satisfaction in subtly reshaping the very fabric of the country."

"You mentioned rendering the king sterile a decade ago. Why did you do that?" My grip tightened slightly.

His eyes darkened. "Because the old guard, the nobles clinging to their outdated ideals, were proving stubbornly resistant to change. I needed a leverage, something that would send shock waves through the entire system. The initial plan was merely to create a power vacuum, a catalyst for reform. But then..." A cold glint entered his eyes. "...I realized I could excise the rot entirely."

"So you manipulative bastard," I hissed, my grip on his cock tightening even further, "how many women did you fuck into being your informants?"

"What? Raphael, why are you ask- AH!" His breath hitched, the sound ripped from his throat as my grip tightened mercilessly. The pleasure that had been building just moments before was abruptly extinguished, replaced by pain that contorted his features. His eyes, wide with shock and a dawning comprehension of my shift in mood, flickered down to my hand. "Raphael! What in the seven hells-"

"Oh, does it hurt, Levi?" I purred, my voice a low, dangerous caress. "Too bad. Answer the question. How many?"

"Do you want me to count them for you, Raphael? Right now? Perhaps with each squeeze? AH!" Levi's voice was strained, a forced bravado laced with the undeniable sound of pain.

"Aw, still hurts, does it?" I purred, my grip remaining firm, a grim satisfaction blooming in my chest at his pained gasp. "I'm sure it hurt for them too, you sly, manipulative asshole. Did they whimper and gasp just like that, Levi? Did you whisper sweet lies, promises of affection, while you were expertly extracting your precious information? Did you make them feel desired, only for it to be a means to an end?"

"It was not about the pleasure, Raphael, it was purely about the information - AH! For God's sake, Raphael!" His voice cracked with a mixture of pain and outrage.

"That's even worse, you calculating bastard," I spat, my fingers tightening reflexively.

"It was when I was young," Levi gasped out, his voice strained, "when I did not have the... the leverage... to exchange information through other means." A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and his hands clenched into fists on the bed sheets.

"Young? How young, Levi?" I pressed, my grip not loosening. "And how many times? Once? Twice? Or did you lose count in your youthful desperation?"

"Around the time I was twenty," Levi gasped, the words punctuated by his shallow breaths, "and it wasn't... romantic relationships, Raphael. Just... sex. A transaction."

"Twenty?" I spat, my grip tightening again despite myself. "When you were married, you manipulative asshole!"

"Julia had her own... string of lovers, Raphael," he countered, a flicker of his old defiance returning. "It was an open arrangement. We agreed upon it, implicitly at first, and then explicitly. I told you, our marriage was a political alliance, a strategic partnership. Affection, fidelity... those were not part of the terms."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"A 'transaction'?" I repeated, my grip tightening almost involuntarily. "So you just... used people? For information? And discarded them like they were nothing? And you expect me to somehow be okay with that because your politically convenient wife was also sleeping around? That doesn't make it any less reprehensible, Levi."

"Transaction means reciprocal, Raphael," Levi countered, his voice strained but firm. "They used my body, and I used their information. It was a mutually beneficial exchange, devoid of emotional entanglement. A pragmatic arrangement in a world where information is power."

"Okay, then, Levi," I said, my voice dangerously soft, my grip tightening once more. "Quid pro quo."

"AH! Raphael! What are you doing?" Levi gasped, his voice sharp with pain and a hint of outrage.

"Reckoning, Levi," I hissed, my grip unwavering. "For you being a callous asshole. For your constant disregard for others, your endless justifications for your manipulative actions. Now, you bastard," I punctuated my words with another squeeze, eliciting a choked sound from him, "another question. Why did you chuck your own mother on an island?"

"She and her allies were a formidable force," Levi grunted, his voice still strained. "Their network of communication was deeply entrenched. I needed a decisive, tangible way to sever those connections, to isolate her influence."

"But why let her live, Levi? After everything she did to you?" I pressed, my fingers still a painful reminder of my demand for honesty.

"Death would be too swift, too merciful a release for her. Besides," he added, a grim satisfaction coloring his tone, "on the far side of that island lies the ancient noble cemetery. I made a vow to myself, years ago, that I would never allow her to be buried in that soil, even if her exile placed her within a mere stroll of its hallowed ground."

I took a deep breath. "Now, Levi, the biggest question. Elira... she is still pregnant. Four months along. You are only a day away from a safe and relatively simple termination. Will you let her keep the baby?"

A muscle twitched in Levi's jaw, his eyes hardening with a cold fury that eclipsed even the pain I was inflicting. "What would you do, Raphael?" he bit out, his voice low and dangerous. "If your sperm, the potential for your future, was stolen from you as a minor? By your own mother? Hm?"

The weight of his question, the raw pain beneath his anger, momentarily loosened my grip.

His voice was a low, venomous growl, the pain from my grip seemingly overshadowed by the resurfacing rage. "She stole five vials, Raphael. Five. Found five potential birth mothers within a single week. A week! And for what? For the potential of a boy, an heir to the so-called dukedom she so desperately craved to control. I don't even remember those two days, Raphael. I was blacked out, drugged into oblivion. And if that isn't enough to curdle your blood, let me remind you of the meticulous planning involved. She didn't just bring random women to violate me in that state. She likely involved medical professionals, procured equipment to freeze my sperm, and then concealed it for thirteen years. Thirteen years, Raphael. My own flesh and blood, plotting and scheming with my very essence. So tell me, with your righteous indignation... what in the deepest pits of hell would you do?"

"So, with Elira..." I began, my voice softer now, the anger momentarily eclipsed by a dawning understanding of the depth of Levi's pain. My fingers loosened slightly on his still-rigid flesh. "This... this brings it all back, doesn't it? That fear of your bloodline being used, manipulated... the lack of control..."

"Well," Levi murmured, his voice regaining a measure of its usual composure, though a raw undercurrent of pain still lingered in his eyes. "It isn't easy to make a decision when empathy claws at you, is it, Raphael? Part of you, the logical part, the part that understands the violation I endured, knows I am right. That I have every right to dictate what happens to my stolen lineage, to prevent history from repeating itself. But that other part of you, the one that clings to that infuriatingly persistent compass of morality, thinks I have no right to make a decision regarding a woman's body, even if that body carries the consequence of such a profound violation. Right?" He watched me intently, his gaze piercing, as if trying to gauge the internal battle raging within me.

"Yeah..." I admitted, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "You're right. About my empathy... and that stubborn moral compass. Did you... did you learn the gender of the baby?"

A sardonic smile touched Levi's lips. "Oh, yes. No termination if it is a girl, wasn't it? Your rather sentimental argument from before. Now, tell me, Raphael. Does it truly matter? A life is a life, regardless of the vessel, isn't that what your precious morality dictates?" He paused, his gaze intense. "But let me ask you another question. Do you truly wish for another human being like me to exist? You know my history, the legacy of generations of noble inbreeding, the very reason for my... unique disposition. Tell me now, Raphael. Do you wish for another soul to be born into this world, forever marked as an outsider, never truly belonging?"

"But isn't there always a chance, Levi?" I asked softly, my fingers finally releasing his grip. "A chance for things to be different? A chance for them to find happiness, even if the odds are stacked against them? You found me, in all your... complexity. Maybe this child could find their own connection, their own belonging, in this chaotic world."

A chilling calmness settled over Levi, the raw emotion from his earlier confession receding behind a familiar mask of control. "Raphael," he stated, his voice level, "I only paused my plans regarding Elira because you inquired about the abortion. My initial intention was to induce a simple, undetectable miscarriage during our afternoon tea. A clean, efficient solution. But I refrained, out of... consideration for your curiosity." He shifted slightly, the lingering tension in his body now directed towards a different purpose. "Excuse my bluntness and what you perceive as rudeness, but unless your interrogation has reached its conclusion, I have pressing matters that require my attention. It appears," his gaze flickered down to where my hand had been, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, "that you will have some... moral deliberation to undertake."

"No, no, wait, Levi. Don't go." I reached out, my hand grasping his arm. "We can talk about this. Please."

Levi paused, his muscles tensing beneath my touch. "I have been rather clear about my ideas and thoughts on the matter, Raphael. Haven't I?"

"Look, Levi, just... look, wait." I tightened my grip on his arm, a desperate plea in my voice. "Just sit down. Please. And don't tell me you have some world-ending crisis that can't wait a single day. This is... this is your long-awaited vacation, remember?”

Levi finally turned his full attention back to me, his expression a complex mix of exasperation and something akin to disappointment. "Raphael," he said, his voice softer now, but with an edge of weary resignation, "you are truly not trying to understand me at all. Your empathy, your fierce loyalty... it always lies with others, doesn't it? It's not as if I would become enraged over you squeezing my... whatever," he gestured vaguely downwards. "And it's certainly not as if I lacked the power to stop you. But I didn't. Because, despite the pain, I was... glad that you were finally showing such intense interest. But now I see," his gaze searched mine, a flicker of sadness in their depths, "our understandings of your actions, our intents, were vastly different."

"I am sorry about the pain, Levi," I said, the anger receding, replaced by a wave of regret. "I was jealous, and angry, and I acted out. That was wrong. I am truly sorry for that." I paused, meeting his gaze. "But please believe me when I say that it was also because of my loyalty, my empathy for others, that I was pushing you so hard, trying to understand you. Yes," I affirmed, "it is because of my unwavering loyalty to what I believe is right, and my fundamental belief in the potential of people – and that includes you, Levi – that I was so relentless. And I need you to understand this: I will always prioritize morality, equality, over any single individual's actions, even yours. And yet," I confessed, a raw honesty in my voice, "despite everything you've told me, despite the darkness I've glimpsed, because of that same belief in the possibility of something more, something better... I am still drawn to you."

A profound sadness washed over Levi's feature. "If you are truly curious about how I feel, Raphael... it feels lonely. I have never once sought understanding from anyone. Never yearned for connection, because I was always aware of my... limitations. The absence of empathy, of guilt, of shame, of the very emotions that seem to drive your actions. I always understood my place, a solitary figure in a society not designed for individuals like me. And yet," he gestured around the beach house, a hint of irony in his voice, "here I am. I left behind the reins of a country, not even for reconciliation, but to offer an apology – a concept intellectually understood, though emotionally foreign. And all I have, all I have ever truly offered, is my unwavering loyalty to the one person who sees something beyond the monster..." He trailed off, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the sea.

"Levi..." I began, my voice barely a whisper, the walls of my anger and suspicion beginning to crumble. The image of him as a cold, calculating manipulator warred with the lonely figure before me, a man who had seemingly accepted his isolation as an immutable truth. The apology he spoke of, the journey he had undertaken, the admission of his emotional limitations – it all painted a far more complex and perhaps even tragic picture than I had allowed myself to see.

I reached out slowly, hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his hand resting on the edge of the bed. He didn't flinch, didn't pull away, his gaze still fixed on the distant horizon.

"You're not a monster, Levi," I said softly, the words feeling inadequate yet desperately true. "You're... you're just... you."

His gaze finally shifted from the distant sea, his intense, deep blue eyes locking onto mine. "I always felt that way, Raphael. Lonely. All the time. It was a constant companion. And then... you changed that." A ghost of a smile touched his lips, a fleeting expression. "For the first time, the silence wasn't so deafening. And then..." The smile vanished, replaced by a shadow of pain. "...you took that away from me. The anger, the accusations... the distance you created. I do not think," his voice was low, almost a whisper, "I can bear to find that... that connection again, that fragile sense of not being entirely alone... only to lose it once more."

Levi slowly lifted his right hand. His gaze remained locked on mine, the raw vulnerability now tinged with a simmering resentment. "Do you remember what you said that day, Raphael? In the house, before you left? You said that your skin felt like it was burning. After you shut that door, after you walked out of my life, I felt the same way, too. A cold fire that consumed everything. How dare you enter my solitude, make me believe, for the first time in my life, that I wasn't entirely alone in this world... only to cruelly steal that feeling away afterwards?"

Levi stood abruptly from the edge of the bed, his movements stiff and filled with a barely suppressed agitation. He turned, his gaze fixed on the door as if it offered a swift escape. Before he could take a step, I reached out, my hand gripping his forearm with strength, still seated on the rumpled sheets. "No, Levi," I insisted, my voice firm despite the tremor in my own hand. "Don't go. Keep talking to me."

Levi remained standing, my grip on his arm the only thing preventing him from retreating towards the door of the beach house. "You always knew who I was, Raphael," he stated, his voice regaining some of its familiar steel. "I never once hid the darkness within me. I never once lied about my motivations. I laid bare my deepest, darkest secrets, the very machinations that brought this country its revolution. At first," a bitter edge crept into his tone, "all I required of you was to pose for the cameras, to be the beautiful facade that would cultivate the image I needed. Then," his gaze flickered down to my hand on his arm, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, "you, with your infuriatingly persistent empathy, selfishly entered the deeper recesses of my life. You tried to understand the ununderstandable. You even promised me... connection. But one day, you simply left. You abandoned me to the silence once more, after you had the audacity to make me believe that genuine connection with another human being was possible for someone like me. It was the cruelest, most selfish thing you have ever done, Raphael. And I will never forgive you for shoving that naive, foolish hope down my throat, only to rip it away and leave me bleeding.”

I had known, intellectually, that his solitary nature stemmed from a fundamental difference in how he experienced the world. But the raw, aching loneliness he had just articulated pierced through my assumptions with a painful clarity. And the resentment... that sharp, unexpected barb aimed directly at me, for daring to offer him a glimpse of something different only to seemingly snatch it away... it landed with a sickening thud in the pit of my stomach.

"I am sorry for leaving you the way I did, Levi," I finally said, my voice low and tinged with a regret that now felt inadequate. "But at the time, it was what felt... necessary. Right, even. And while I hear your pain, I will not accept resentment for prioritizing my own safety, my own well-being."

"No," Levi corrected, his voice sharp, cutting through the fragile truce I had attempted to establish. "I do not resent you for your departure, Raphael. I resent you for your arrival. No, let me tell you something even worse, something that festers within me still." He took a sharp breath, his gaze unwavering. "Do you remember when you first confessed your... feelings to me? I told you then, with a clarity I thought even you couldn't misinterpret, that it felt like watching a rabbit running headfirst towards a saw trap. And what happened after that, Raphael? Did you heed my warning? Did you step back? No. You became even more persistent, more relentless in your naive crusade to make me feel something, didn't you? We endured those excruciatingly pointless drinks with your relentlessly friends. We wasted hours talking about nothing of consequence. You, in your boundless optimism, made me believe, for a fleeting, foolish moment, that I was capable of sharing. Only for you to then carelessly snatch it all away. I do not want your apology, Raphael. It was the weak, sniveling part of me, the part I have spent my entire life suppressing, that one day actually dared to believe that finally, I could be seen too..."

"Now, Raphael," Levi continued, his voice regaining a chillingly steady tone. "You are free to extend your boundless loyalty to every other human being in this miserable world. That is your inherent nature, and I have learned to accept it. But hear me clearly, Raphael. If you ever dare to enter my life again, to ignite that fragile hope within me, only to extinguish it with such careless disregard... I assure you, Raphael. I will end you. Not in some metaphorical, dramatic flourish, not in a fit of rhetorical anger. I will end you."

"You are a fucking idiot, Levi!" I exploded, the dam of my own hurt and fear finally breaking. "Did you hear what you just said? An absolutely fucking idiot! What? You finally experienced a fraction of heartbreak for the first time in your life, and now you threaten me, you arrogant asshole? Well, welcome to the goddamn thing called a relationship, you self-pitying son of a bitch! How many times did you shatter my heart, Levi? How many times did your brutality, your desire for carnage, your cold pragmatism leave me bleeding? Hm? Want to tally that up? Ah, yes, let's talk about how just seeing your silhouette in a doorway used to make me faint from sheer terror, you heartless bastard! Do you have any idea how long it took for me to feel even a little less afraid of you? Do you know the months I spent fighting back tears, flinching at every sudden movement, shivering at the mere thought of you? Stop acting like a fucking child who just scraped his knee! You hurt me, and yes, I hurt you. It's called a relationship, you emotionally stunted fool! So be prepared to feel that way again, Levi. Be prepared to feel lonely, abandoned! Be prepared for grief, because that's what love sometimes brings. It's called life, you idiot! And one more thing, Levi Blake," I stepped closer,"if you ever, ever threaten me again, I swear to the gods, I will fucking disappear. I will skip this entire godforsaken country and you will never see me again. I am not an even Ascarian, remember?”

"Ah," I breathed out, the storm of my anger slowly receding, leaving behind a strange sense of exhaustion and a fragile clarity. Finally. I believe I have said everything I possibly could. And he, for all his darkness, is not stupid. He would have understood the weight of those words. A small, almost imperceptible nod flickered within my own mind. Ah. Clarity, at last.

Levi regarded me with a cool detachment, a slight arch to his eyebrow. "You seriously need to learn to control that volatile temper of yours, Raphael. The sheer volume of insults you manage to unleash is quite... impressive. How many more will you hurl my way?"

"Shut up, Levi," I retorted, the embers of my anger still glowing. "You know damn well you deserve every single word. Did you conveniently forget that I am a walking cauldron of repressed rage, simmering beneath the surface? Well, today, some of that finally boiled over. And you know what?" A small, defiant smile touched my lips. "I actually feel clearer now. Lighter, even."

"Raphael," Levi said, his gaze softening slightly as he inclined his head towards the door of the beach house. "Do you... do you want to come with me?"

A hesitant hope flickered within me, battling the lingering resentment. "I think so, yeah," I admitted, my voice still a little rough. "But before we go anywhere, Levi, I need to know the shit that you've been pulling behind my back for the last three months. Every single detail."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he replied, his tone carefully neutral. "Well. I had the old house... refurnished. We could move back in, if that's something you would want."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Oh, really? I was just starting to actually like that house. Then I got shot. Wow. What a fucking life I've lived with you, Levi."

"Yes, Raphael," he simply replied, his gaze steady.