Sugar, Secrets and Upheaval

Part of me wants to find out. This is the danger of Levi, the allure. He’s a walking, talking, utterly amoral force of nature, and he finds amusement in the chaos he creates, and the discomfort he causes.

“I think that your unconventional methods may create a rift between us, so I don’t want that. I am not pressing further.”

Tonight is for relaxing. Not for Levi to flex his villainy.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever you wish, dear,” he said with a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

“You know, maybe we should throw a party, celebrating the hot tub,” I said, a lighthearted thought bubbling up as the tension dissipated.

Levi arched his left eyebrow. “Party, in this house? This house? We have dozens of real estate for more suitable, and we can throw an event in my foundation’s ball room. Why this house?”

I chuckled. “Why did you get suddenly territorial? It’s not like I would invite dozens of people here. Finn, Maya if she decides to come here from wherever she is with her girlfriend… I don’t have that many friends,” I said, shrugging.

“Apologies for my rather dramatic outburst. I truly do not enjoy people coming here, and potentially disturbing the sanctity of our domicile. But, surely do invite your friends for a gathering.”

“Yeah? Who would you invite if we throw a party?” I asked, leaning back against the hot tub rim, curious.

“I do not think I have ‘friends’ to invite regarding a convivial event.”

It's almost heartbreaking, in a Levi-sort of way. He built a paradise for misfits, but he remains, fundamentally, alone within it.

“What about Cassiel?” I asked, a hopeful note in my voice.

His brows furrowed. “He would indeed come if I asked. Since our rivalry ended, because I bequeathed my entire art collection to you, we do not necessarily have to engage further. Although, I cannot deny that he was indeed a formidable ally, a rival, and an intellectual sparring partner.”

“You know Finn and Cassiel are literally match made in heaven in my eyes, Levi. Goofy, funny, kind-hearted Finn and the Cassiel, the late king’s consort, whom also helped you undermining the king? They are so compatible,” I said, a grin spreading across my face.

“Cassiel would literally chew Finn and spit him out, Raphael. Did you perhaps develop a villainous heart from the time we spent together?”

“I told Cassiel the first time we met about Finn, and I think Finn would be drawn to Cassiel like a moth to a flame. I can picture it,” I said, still enjoying the idea of the chaotic pairing.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Dear, Cassiel was not only the bed warmer of the King. Do you know how much resilience, power, and wit are required for someone who is Cyrusian to be consort of an Ascarian King? Mind you, consorts are not allowed to leave the Royal Palace. Cassiel was the anomaly, since he had a vast network and wealth, and had undeniable influence over the circles. He helped me during the currency devaluation for re-distributing the wealth of the rich. Cassiel would turn Finn into his own personal foot-stool.”

“Okay, your sentimental tissue clearly did not rehydrate in the hot tub, so, tell me how do you think a relationship between them would work? Hm?” I asked, leaning back against the jets.

Levi arched his left eyebrow. “I do not think Cassiel would engage in a non-polygamous relationship, let alone a relationship with a person who is outside his usual circle. Finn, from what I have observed, is infinitely sentimental, overtly emotional, and undeniably fragile. He would be charmed by Cassiel, in the moment he meet him, only to possibly cry himself to sleep every night when he realizes he is only just another poor, unfortunate soul who has entered Cassiel's orbit.”

I can see it. I can picture Finn, completely enchanted, completely out of his depth, falling for Cassiel’s undeniable allure and then getting utterly crushed.

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. My romantic matchmaking skills are clearly no match for your brutal realism.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “If that little social engineering is what you desire, I can certainly extend my help. It wouldn't even take monumental effort.”

“Social engineering? Couldn’t you call it matchmaking? Also, what are you going to play the Cupid? If so, how?” I asked, pushing him for the details of his plan.

“Oh?” he mused, a dry amusement in the single syllable. “Gray areas, dear? And, matchmaking is social engineering, which we as a species consistently use for preservation, and also for our protein sources. Lastly, I do not need to be dishonest. I could simply tell Cassiel that I have a friend who might be interesting, and Finn; we do not even need to give him a heads-up, do we?”

Gods… That’s his frame of reference for human relationships.

“So we make cows have happy families, that is matchmaking for you? And, yeah, you do not even say anything to Finn, we would call both of them to dinner, and Finn would be smitten… I agree with you on that,” I said, a dry chuckle escaping my lips, already picturing the disastrous scenario.

“Is it not? Forcing species to copulate seems the perfect explanation for matchmaking in my eyes,” he said, his voice flat, yet carrying an unsettling logic that made my chuckle die in my throat.

From a purely biological, unsentimental standpoint, he's not entirely wrong. The chuckle died in my throat because it's not funny, it's just… Levi. He just defined human relationships as a slightly more complicated version of livestock breeding.

“I appreciate your brutal honesty, Levi. It’s truly… something. Now, about that hot tub party, should we invite the livestock?” I asked, a wry smirk on my face.

“You are allowed to do anything you want,” he said, his voice even. “What fascinates me, though, is you, as an empathetic person, having an anthropocentric view of life. Are you not supposed to have empathy more profound for your fellow animals?” he asked, his gaze fixed on mine.

And now I have to explain why I care more about Finn's heartbreak than a cow's involuntary copulation, which, put like that, sounds incredibly arrogant.

“Right, because you, the man who feels nothing for a cow, are lecturing me on empathy. The irony is so thick, I could choke on it. I care more about my friends than about farm animals. There, I said it. Are you going to tell me that’s a logical fallacy now? Is this another jab at my love for red meat?” I asked, taking the last sip of my beer.

“Mine was simply curiosity. You bond with pets, but you utterly close your eyes to the horrors of husbandry. I would not call it a logical fallacy; it is… simply ego of the homo sapiens. We are undeniably the apex predators, who gentrified an entire planet, therefore most of the religions, cultures, beliefs, even seemingly innocent superstitions are all built on the ego of the sapiens. Animals are always the last priority.”

“I’ll give you the hypocrisy, the denial, and the ego. But don’t you think it’s a little… convenient for the man who feels nothing to point out everyone else’s flaws?” I said, pushing back, even as his words resonated.

“I never said flaws,” he corrected. “I used the words hypocrisy and denial, because from my detached view there are simply no other adjectives and verbs to articulate it clearly to you. And, Raphael, I did not ask to be born with a smaller amygdala and frontal cortex. Not that I regret it, since it literally renders me incapable of feeling regret.”

It's a closed loop.

“The fuck? Is that like a chicken or the egg type of loop? Paradox?” I chuckled.

“Welcome to the grand tapestry of my existence, dear. It is rather boring,” he said, his voice flat. Then he paused for a second. “I think someone like you might enjoy the ‘Egg Theory’.”

What in the absolute fuck is the Egg Theory? Is it some obscure philosophical concept? Another one of his weird, detached analogies that will strip away another layer of my naive understanding of the world? Given the trajectory of this conversation, it's probably something that will make me question my own sentience.

“Spill it. Fine. Couldn’t you tell it before I finished my beer?” I said, a hint of playful exasperation in my voice. He extended his own half-full bottle to me. I happily took it.

“The ‘Egg Theory,’ Raphael, posits that every human being is, in essence, the same singular entity, a cosmic 'Egg' that experiences all lives throughout history,” Levi began, his gaze drifting to the stars again. “Imagine a soul that is born as every single human being, living each life, experiencing every joy and sorrow, every triumph and tragedy, from the first caveman to the last person in the distant future. You are everyone. Every person you have ever known, every person you have ever loved or hated, every person who has lived and died — you are them. Their experiences are yours, their pain, their love, their existence. And when you have lived every single life, you will finally hatch, becoming a fully realized version of this singular cosmic entity, ready to create your own universe.” He paused, turning his gaze back to me, his eyes unreadable. “It is, in its essence, a profound argument for universal empathy, is it not? If you are everyone, then harming another is merely harming yourself, albeit in a different iteration.”

Levi finally turned his gaze back to me. “So, when you express empathy for your friends over livestock, or when you decry hypocrisy, you are, in essence, experiencing and judging aspects of yourself. Because, eventually, you will be that cow, and you will be the farmer, and you will be the one who points out the hypocrisy, and the one who denies it. It is all part of the singular journey within the egg.”

Okay. Deep breath. It's all me. It's the ultimate argument for universal empathy, as he so put it. But it's also a terrifying dissolution of the self. If I'm everyone, then who am I, Raphael?

I paused for a long while, staring at him, processing. “What the fuck, Levi, you broke my goldfish brain! You went from ‘chickens and eggs’ to ‘creating your own universe’ in like, three minutes. So you’re basically saying all my arguments about hypocrisy and denial were just me arguing with myself in a different timeline. The universe is just one giant, existential self-help group, and we’re all just… different iterations of the same cosmic asshole? My head hurts,” I groaned, running a hand through my damp hair.

Did he think I would like it, because my empathetic heart would enjoy the connection that binds everyone together? Ugh… Beer doesn’t cut this talk. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel✦fire.net

He chuckled softly. “Ah, did my dear did not enjoy this theory?”

“It’s just too much for my low attention span brain.”

“Hm…” Levi mused, a faint tilt of his head. “Instead of your fellow sapiens, maybe you would enjoy the theories about the life outside the earth?” he asked, his voice smooth, clearly eager to articulate another mind-bending theory.

“Gods… You are allowed one theory. Pick whatever you want,” I said, sighing, already bracing myself for whatever fresh existential crisis he was about to unleash.

“Very well. Since the 'Egg Theory' proved… strenuous for your cognitive functions, perhaps a more straightforward, yet equally chilling, concept from astro-sociology will suffice. You are familiar with the premise of alien life, yes?”

I nodded, already regretting giving him permission.

“Good. Now, imagine the universe as a dark forest,” Levi began, his voice dropping to a low, even murmur that seemed to settle over the water, making the night feel suddenly colder. He tilted his head back, his gaze fixed on the dense scattering of stars above. “Every civilization, every intelligent species in this forest, is a hunter. They are armed, they are constantly listening, and they do not know the location of other hunters.

“The forest is dark. There are no signs of other life because if you expose your presence, you become prey. The moment you are discovered, you are targeted for elimination. Why? Because resources are finite, and the motives of others are unknowable. It is simply the most logical, most efficient path to ensure your own survival. Any civilization that announces its presence, any civilization that attempts to communicate, is either naive, suicidal, or already dominant enough to not fear reprisal.”

Levi turned his head slightly, his gaze drifting from the stars to meet my eyes. “Therefore, the silence of the universe is not an absence of life, Raphael. It is the sound of universal terror. It is the sound of every intelligent species remaining absolutely silent, armed, and ready to destroy anyone who dares to make a sound. Because in the dark forest, the one who speaks first… dies first.”

My blood just ran cold. Not the "Egg Theory" kind of cold. This is a primal, survival-instinct kind of cold.

“Gods!” I exclaimed, feeling shivers run down my spine even in the hot water. "I got scared shitless! I thought you were going to give me something philosophical nonsense bullshit, but you decided to tell me a theory about how entire species are fucking prey? Oh my god…” I said, eyes wide with terror and disbelief. “Is this what you believe in? Aliens don’t come and get us because they are also equally prey and equally predators?”

Levi chuckled. “No, Raphael. That was a theoretical construct, a narrative from speculative fiction. Reality is inherently more vague and, frankly, boring. We currently possess insufficient data concerning the existence of sentient extraterrestrial life, despite rudimentary discoveries of carbon matrices and hydrated atmospheric compositions. Why, precisely, do you believe humanity is presently incapable of establishing an extraterrestrial colony on our closest celestial neighbor? Beyond the atmospheric challenges, the predominant impediment is undeniably mundane: distance. Despite humanity's disproportionate technological acceleration within the last fifty years compared to our entire recorded history, our current propulsion capabilities remain laughably inadequate. To traverse the void to Mars still necessitates a voyage of approximately seven to ten Earth months. Now, factor that into any notion of interstellar fraternization.”

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Of course. Of course it's science fiction. One minute I'm a potential cosmic prey, the next I'm getting a lecture on travel times to the nearest planet.

“My god, it was just a book! A book that scared the shit out of me! Levi, why did you turn our little hot tub soak into a… ghost story around a bonfire?” I exclaimed, still feeling the lingering chill. Then I took a deep breath, trying to forget about the prey and predator concepts. “T-Then why do you think aliens, if they exist, do not… you know, contact us or something?” I asked, curious.

“Why would they?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there a reason? At all?”

My mind immediately jumps to all the reasons I would think: curiosity, sharing knowledge, peace, mutual understanding, exploration, maybe even just companionship. All the fundamentally human reasons. But to Levi, those are emotional or altruistic motivations that don't compute without a clear, self-serving benefit. Why would they waste energy, resources, or risk exposure just to say hello? He's implying we might not even be worth the effort. And, damn him, from a purely logical, resource-management standpoint, he probably has a point. It brings me right back to his "ego of the homo sapiens" lecture.

“Shit… So we are so primitive… we may not even be worth contact, at all?”

“Nobody knows,” he said, raising both hands from under the water, letting the droplets cascade off his fingers. “A recent astrophysical hypothesis, correlating observations of Kepler-452b – a celestial body we might refer to as Earth's considerably older and more massive cousin, approximately 1400 light-years distant and 1.5 billion years its senior – suggests a plausible impediment. This exoplanet exhibits attributes conducive to sustaining complex life, such as oxygen, water, and a robust atmosphere. However, its gravitational pull is twice that of Earth’s. Consequently, any indigenous intelligent species, assuming their existence, may find the necessary escape velocity to transcend their gravitational bind an insurmountable challenge.”

So, it's not a conspiracy of silence or a Dark Forest, it's just… physics. It’s a different kind of cosmic horror, isn't it? Not being eaten, but being forever trapped, unable to reach out, to explore.

“Well, that’s certainly a less terrifying reason for the silence than species eating each other. So, is there a theory for why we haven’t left? After fucking up Earth with pollution?” I asked, grimacing slightly.

“There are at least a hundred prohibitive factors, but the most salient remains a fundamental incapacity: we simply cannot,” he stated, his voice flat, definitive. “The primary obstacles are, quite predictably, technological, logistical, and financial; boring, yet insurmountable. Regarding the immediate habitability of Mars, for instance, the challenges are fundamentally biological. One would invariably succumb to dermatological malignancies of terminal severity, accompanied by pulmonary compromise from dust particulates, amongst a multitude of equivalently lethal environmental variables,” he said, ticking off the deadly practicalities with dispassionate ease.

“I appreciate the detailed medical prognosis of my hypothetical Martian demise. But somehow, that’s even more depressing than the Dark Forest. I mean at least Dark Forest offered… fiction. This is, as you said, just boring,” I said, a sigh escaping me.

“I was rather confident the Dark Forest hypothesis would resonate with your… theatrical inclinations, Raphael,” Levi said, an indulgent smirk playing on his lips. He shrugged. “Indeed, reality rarely possesses the dramatic flair of speculation. I possess an array of equally compelling hypotheses concerning extraterrestrial existence, yet their ultimate utility is consistently undermined by one immutable fact: our comprehensive ignorance. It is highly probable that both of us will die prior to any definitive acquisition of such knowledge.”

It’s infuriating, because I want answers, I want connection, I want wonder, and he’s just here shrugging, completely at peace with the fact that we’ll all just die without ever truly knowing if there’s anyone else out there.

“You’re really okay with that? Just… not knowing? I find that infinitely more unsettling than any ‘Dark Forest’ you could conjure,” I asked, trying to fathom his calm acceptance.

He chuckled, a low sound that barely reached ears, and gave me a knowing smirk. “Would my ‘despair’ change anything? It would not suddenly grant us the technology that enables us to traverse space at light speed. Raphael, space travel is…” he paused for a second. “No, let me provide a more illustrative example. Consider the humble astronaut. Do you comprehend the exorbitant fiscal, engineering, and temporal investment dedicated solely to their sustenance?”

It's his way of saying: look at the complexity and cost of just eating in space. Now imagine trying to build a civilization out there.

“Why this spiel of crushing every dream I had as a kid?” I grumbled, feeling a familiar wave of irritation.

“Oh? So you heard one theory, and decided to forget about our limitations, dear?” he said, and chuckled. “I am quite open to storytelling about other hypotheses, if you wish to hear so,” he offered, his eyes gleaming with a predatory amusement.

It's a sickness, this curiosity. But he's just so damn good at it.

“Ugh,” I groaned, splashing a little water in frustration. “This is going to turn into your very morbid tales of the animal kingdom, isn’t it? Like the time you crushed the cute image of hand-holding otters by explaining how they’re cannibalistic, necrophiliacs…” I trailed off, shuddering faintly at the memory. “But fine… I am sucked into the rabbit hole,” I admitted, resigned to my fate as his intellectual plaything.

“Then, dear, tell me: how theatrical do you want it to be?”

“Scare the shit out of me, Levi, I am ready, hit me,” I said, leaning forward slightly in the bubbling water, a dare in my voice.

“Hm,” he mused, his gaze locking directly onto mine, and the smirk deepened. It was Levi gaining his storyteller mode, preparing to weave another of his chilling tapestries.

“Consider the vastness of the cosmos, Raphael,” Levi began, as if speaking directly into my mind. “And the statistical certainty that life, even intelligent life, must exist elsewhere. But what if the greatest horror is not that they are hostile, or that they are indifferent, or that they are simply too far away?”

“Imagine,” Levi continued, his voice dropping to a hum, like the deep thrum of distant machinery within a vast, silent void. The steam from the hot tub seemed to thicken, coiling around us, obscuring the edges of the night and the glittering stars above as if we were adrift in the cosmos itself. “Imagine a universe so vast, so ancient, that the very concepts we use to define ourselves — morality, purpose, sanity — are merely fleeting biological quirks of a species too young to comprehend true scale. What if existence itself is an indifference, a meaningless, cold expansion, utterly devoid of any inherent design or care for its fleeting inhabitants?

“Now, consider intelligent life within this universe. We assume they would be variations of us: bipedal, carbon-based, driven by similar desires, perhaps even sharing a recognizable form of consciousness. But what if they are not? What if their form defies our three dimensions, existing as geometries that would unravel the mind? What if their thoughts operate on principles alien to our very understanding of logic, their senses perceiving spectra we cannot even conceive, their very presence a violation of our perceived reality? What if their existence, their very being, is so fundamentally removed from our reality that to truly perceive them, to grasp their nature, would shatter the delicate framework of our minds?

“This is the essence of cosmic horror. The silence of the universe is not because they are hiding, or trapped, or harvesting us for some unknown purpose. It is because to truly know them, to grasp their nature, is to confront the terrifying insignificance and utter irrelevance of our own existence. They are not malevolent in a human sense; they simply are. And that ‘being’ is so profoundly alien, so utterly beyond our capacity for comprehension, that their presence would not inspire wonder, but a slow, creeping, irreversible madness. The stars are silent, Raphael, not because they are empty, but because the things that reside beyond our perception are best left undisturbed, their reality a truth that would unmake us. The lack of contact is not a tragedy, but a merciful void.”

My breath hitched. The hot water suddenly felt cold against my skin, raising goosebumps. Gods, what kind of sick, brilliant mind comes up with this stuff and delivers it with such calm, intellectual precision?

“I actually prefer the idea of the Dark Forest now. At least if they’re hunters, I can understand that. This… this is just… too much,” I said, and touched my temples, trying to block the memory. The asshole nearly made me shit myself in the hot tub we installed hours ago.

He saw my scared expression, his eyes softening. “Pulla, I think the reason you find this scary presumably boils down to the fact of the ‘otherness’. You could at least try to make sense of kill or be killed by the aliens, but yes, cosmic horror is its own beast. Hm… Maybe I can offer less theatrical theories for you?” he asked, his voice losing some of its earlier detached amusement, clearly trying to make me feel… less scared.

“I am not sure if I even want to be under the night sky anymore, Levi,” I said, lifting my head. The image of gigantic, incomprehensible entities existing out there made the blackness of the sky fucking scary! He made the color black scary.

Levi shifted from sitting across from me to sitting next to me. “We can go inside, dear.”

“Please. Just… please. The stars suddenly look like they’re waiting for my mind to unravel,” I pleaded, my voice thin, eyes still darting nervously upwards into the dark.

Levi’s wet hand settled on the back of my head, gently guiding my gaze downwards, away from the terrifying celestial canvas, towards the swirling water in the tub. “It is quite alright,” he murmured softly. “The stars are merely immense, inanimate celestial bodies — billions of degrees hot, yes, and truly colossal — but they possess no agency, no capacity for threat. They are not scary.”

“You broke my brain, Levi. You made the night sky turn into horror and now you’re trying to tell me they’re just… sparkly rocks? Just billions of miles of inanimate rocks that are waiting for my sanity to unravel. Much better. Still, your hand feels… okay,” I said, my gaze still fixed on the swirling water, unable to look up.

“My dear,” he said softly, a low murmur close to my ear. “Hm… Perhaps you would prefer some mythology about stars?” he asked, a gentle coaxing.

“O-Okay…”

“Dear,” Levi began, his voice soft, quite different from the chilling clarity he’d used minutes before. His hand remained on the back of my head keeping my gaze fixed on the bubbling water, away from the vast, unsettling blackness above. “Consider a small, yet elegant constellation, shaped like a perfect semi-circle. It is known as the Northern Crown.”

“Its story is one of love and devotion, a distinct narrative woven by humans into the celestial tapestry. It belonged to Ariadne, daughter of King Minos, who aided Theseus in escaping the Minotaur’s Labyrinth, only to be cruelly abandoned by him on the island of Naxos.”

His thumb traced a slow circle on my scalp. “There, heartbroken and alone, she was discovered by Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry. He was captivated by her. His love for her was so profound, so absolute, that upon marrying her, he took the golden crown she wore and, as a symbol of their eternal union, he cast it into the heavens.” Levi’s voice held a rare, almost tender quality as he described the celestial act. “Its jewels, still sparkling with the light of their devotion, became the stars that form that shimmering arc. A permanent, radiant testament to a love made eternal in the sky.”

I keep staring at the swirling water, letting the colors blur, letting his voice paint a picture in my mind instead of the crushing blackness. It’s… beautiful. It’s exactly what I needed. It's human. It has feeling.

“I’ll admit, a story about a god’s devotion is infinitely better than eldritch horrors that undo my mind. It’s… actually quite beautiful.”

Levi then leaned in, and I felt the soft press of his lips on my forehead. “Stars are merely stars. See them as distant streetlights, or as rocks, or as the celestial dusts that made our species. The way you appreciate them, the meaning you assign to them, is entirely on you.”

“That’s… strangely empowering coming from you. And that kiss didn't hurt either…” I murmured, a subtle warmth spreading through me.

“You do not need permission for a kiss, do you?”

Nope. Emboldened by his question, by the quiet reassurance of his presence in the terrifying vastness of the night, I closed my eyes and leaned forward, initiating the kiss. His lips were soft, cool, and a little damp from the hot tub, a gentle press that dissolved the lingering cosmic dread into a simple kind of wonder.

When I pulled back, it was only by an inch. Levi’s eyes were open, gazing at me with that unreadable intensity that was so uniquely him.

I shifted slightly, leaning more fully into his side, my leg brushing his beneath the surface of the water. My hand found his thigh, my fingers brushing against the smooth skin there.

His thumb left my scalp, tracing a slow path down my neck. When his fingers found the edge of my wet hair, he didn't pull away, but threaded them through it, tilting my head back slightly so my gaze met his. His eyes were reflecting the colored lights from the tub below.

“Yeah,” I breathed, my fingers tightening on his thigh. “That’s a question I can answer.”

“The sheer speed of your… engine starting always baffles me, Raphael. Minutes ago you were unable to look up, and now it has turned to this?”

“Yeah, I am a rabbit, as you call me Pulla all the time, so what?”

“Do not even think we might engage in any sexual activity in here, Raphael,” he said, instantly dousing the sensual warmth that had begun to build.

“Why?”

He arched his left eyebrow. “So that neither of us gets a cold? Or, neither of us possibly injure each other,” he said and taped his knuckles sharply on the edge of the hot tub. The sound echoed dully. “This is marble, Raphael. What happens if you slip and hit your jaw?”

Seriously? The heat that had been rushing through me deflated like a burst balloon. I wanted to laugh, or groan, or maybe just shove him playfully.

“I’m pretty sure the risk of getting a cold is the least of my concerns right now.”

“Fine,” he stated, the single word clipped, utterly resolute. He pressed a button on the hot tub's edge. The jets immediately died down, and the swirling water began to settle. “Please stand up, and if you can stay without shivering for sixty seconds, I am right here to continue.” He lifted himself out of the tub with effortless ease, the water sheeting off his lean frame, and stood by the edge.

"You're unbelievable," I grumbled, but a faint smile touched my lips. I couldn't help it. This was just so Levi. With a sigh, I pushed myself up, the water sluicing off my skin. I stood there, arms at my sides, focusing on a spot just past Levi's shoulder, trying to project an air of stoic calm. Forty-eight... Forty-seven...

A shiver rippled through me. My shoulders hitched. Damn it.

Before I could voice my defeat, Levi's strong hands were on my arms, pulling me swiftly out of the hot tub.

He reached down, snagging my robe from where it lay discarded on the ground. He draped it over my shoulders, his hands guiding my arms into the sleeves. He gathered our discarded clothing, and then, without another word, we made our way inside the house. Levi walked with his usual confident gait, completely nude beneath the flowing silk. I, on the other hand, was an equally naked, shivering, tremoring rabbit, rushing, half-hobbling, half-stumbling, seeking the warmth of indoors.

“Shit, I am freezing. Yeah. No sex outside in the night, right before the fall season, no, you are wise, wise man,” I chattered, burying my chin in the thick terrycloth.

We made our way to the master bedroom, where Levi tossed the discarded clothes into the laundry bin. He took a towel, and began to rub my back, then my arms, drying my shivering body and damp hair. I leaned into his touch, the warmth of the towel and his hands a welcome reprieve from the chill.

In return, I took the other towel and began to dry his beautifully sculpted muscles. Gods. I am really an animal. I was shivering, teeth chattering, but I was also drooling, my gaze tracing the defined lines of his abdomen, the slope of his shoulders. He was still completely naked beneath the robe, droplets of water clinging to his skin like tiny jewels. Ugh. I am a rabbit. A very, very horny, freezing rabbit.

When I reached his lower back, my fingers brushing the smooth damp skin just above the edge of his low-slung robe, Levi finally shifted.

"My Pulla is shivering, but his mind as always races faster, doesn’t it?"

“Yeah, purely pragmatic offer, Levi, let’s share body warmth,” I said, already scrambling onto the edge of the bed, pulling the bathrobe tighter around me.

With a soft sigh of the mattress, he laid down next to me, still visibly amused by how utterly I'd lost the sixty-second wager.

He reached over and took my bathrobe. I protested with a muffled groan, trying to pull it tighter, but he didn't flinch. “Shh,” he said. As we were both finally naked, he pulled the covers right up to our chin, tucking them snugly. I immediately burrowed into his side.

Fuck. He was so warm. The cold that had been seeping into my bones vanished instantly. I was so glad that he took that wet robe off of me. There's nothing quite like being utterly pressed against Levi's warmth, the solid reality of him against my chest, his leg thrown over mine. The rabbit, fully thawed and no longer trembling, was very much ready to, well, hop.