Chapter 69 - A Poorly Timed Joke ⚣
As we were about to depart to our separate rooms, Levi grabbed me from behind, nuzzled on my shoulder. He murmured near my ear. “Pulla… I miss you so much.”
A jolt of surprise, pleasant and unexpected, shot through me. I turned in Levi's embrace, a soft smile spreading across my face. "Hey," I murmured back, my hand finding his cheek. "I miss you too."
He pulled back slightly, his deep blue eyes was clouded with a hint of genuine distress. His brow was furrowed, a childlike frown. “It’s been three days, my stomach hurts, Raphael,” he stated, his voice a low complaint.
“Hm? What are you talking about?” I asked, my brow knitting in bewilderment.
“When we left the beach house, you didn’t… make me… remember?” he murmured.
Oh! He never finished that day.
Three days... the beach house... A pang of guilt mixed with a surge of desire. "Oh, that," I murmured, my thumb gently stroking his cheek. "You're right. I... got distracted." I leaned in closer, my voice low. "My stomach hurts too, now that you mention it."
"Well, aren't we a pair then?" I chuckled, running a hand down my own slightly damp shirt, feeling the humid cling of the fabric. "Two pigs, wallowing in dirt."
Levi's expression remained firm, his gaze unwavering. "Raphael, for your own well-being, I strongly advise I address this state of... heightened physicality prior to any... further intimacy."
My eyebrows rose in amused challenge, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "Oh? And why is that, Levi?"
He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "My alcohol consumption tonight was... less monitored than usual," he began, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "It has, shall we say, significantly lowered my inhibitions in certain... areas. The resulting... encounter might prove to be... considerably more protracted and... intense than our previous, albeit delightful, experiences. A preliminary shower would, therefore, be a prudent measure for all involved."
"Ah," I murmured, a slow, knowing smile spreading across my face, my heart doing a little flutter. "So you're saying I'm about to experience the uninhibited, possibly prolonged, after-effects of a slightly tipsy Levi? Well, who am I to deny?" I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, inhaling the faint, warm scent of him. "Alright, go shower. But don't take too long."
He nodded, a hint of genuine eagerness in his eyes, a rare glint that made my breath catch. “Yes, Pulla. Come to my room after shower, please?” he asked, his voice softer, almost a plea.
"Of course, Levi," I murmured, my hand finding his, my fingers intertwining with his cool, slender ones.
We both departed to our separate bathrooms. I took my time, enjoying the cool rush of water, loosening and cleaning myself meticulously, letting the day's laughter and revelations wash over me. After the shower, a buoyant energy filled me, and I practically walked to his room with a skip in my step.
The warm air in his room, scented faintly with his usual subtle cologne mingling with the steam from his recent shower, enveloped me as I entered. The sight of him, standing there with a towel in hand, his usually immaculate dark hair adorably tousled and falling across his forehead, did indeed shave years off his typically composed demeanor. He looked disarmingly youthful. A soft smile bloomed on my face as I reached for the towel he held out to me.
He stiffened almost imperceptibly as my fingers brushed his, a fleeting hesitation in his usually decisive movements. But then, slowly, he relaxed, the tension in his broad shoulders easing as I gently took over drying his hair. I took my time, enjoying the rare intimacy of this simple act, the rhythmic motion of the towel against his scalp. He didn't say a word, his eyes closed in quiet contentment.