The Butterfly Effect | Levi x Reader

Chapter 7

Breakfast was a silent affair. The only noises to be heard were the loud scraping of the forks and knives on the plates and the occasional sip of tea.

"I noticed you finished my biology book. You got any other hobbies, or do you just like to subject yourself to dry reading material?" You asked, trying to lighten the mood from earlier.

He paused for a moment, eyes sweeping over your face. "Cleaning, drinking tea, sometimes horseback riding, and exercising," he reluctantly answered.

"Well then I bet you've got quite the bucket list huh?" You joked, chortling to yourself a little.

"What makes you so interesting then?" he retorted defensively.

"Me? Oh, I do lots of things," you said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, really? All I've seen you do is sleep, work, get groceries and repeat," he accented his response by putting his cutlery down on his cleaned plate, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. You didn't like the challenging look in his eye. You knew he was trying to antagonize you, and you also knew that it was going to work.

"Did you ever stop to consider the fact that I don't do anything because in my spare time I've had to take care of some ungrateful, amnesia-ridden moocher?" You hurled the words at him. That set a light ablaze in his eyes that you had not yet seen. You could see the real reason he was still here – the secret he was hiding – dancing just beneath the surface of those charcoal eyes. He was dying to lay it all out and make you look like an idiot for being so angry. 'Come on, just say it . . .'

As soon as it had come, the light in his eyes died out abruptly. That challenging look was then replaced with one of sadness and loneliness. To the untrained eye, it would be hard to spot – but you had gotten good at reading Levi's subtle tells in the few days he had been here. He must have been through something terrible. You just knew it would put you at ease to know what was going on in his mind. Still, you felt bad for imposing such a sour mood on the breakfast.

"Hey, if you like to work out, you're welcome to come to my gym with me. Guests are welcome," you smiled warmly at him. This question raised another issue in your mind: he had no clothes. You decided you would take him shopping for a few things later.

"Fine," he slowly rose from the table, gathering your plate up with his and making for the kitchen. You twisted as far as your back would allow in your rickety wooden seat to observe him beginning to fill the sink with soapy water.

"Thanks," you mumbled in quiet surprise. You decided that if he was offering, you weren't going to argue. You absolutely hated doing dishes. You couldn't stand when it made your hands go wrinkly.

You cringed at your chair scraping harshly on the ground as you stood up. The past few days had been some of the most exhausting and stressful you had experienced in a long time, and you needed an outlet to let some steam off.

Your feet carried themselves over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room – it was the only nice thing you owned. Your back was to Levi so you missed the curious look on his face as he watched you take your seat at the piano bench.

Just like that, your brain switched off; you were on autopilot in this state. It was second nature, like breathing. You allowed your fingers to glide effortlessly over the ivory, hitting all the right notes to create a hauntingly beautiful tune. Head tilted back, you felt your eyes slide shut as you began to sing the lyrics to your own song. Your words floated up and around the room, the entire apartment resonating with the rich timbre of your powerful voice. You reveled in the fabulous duality of your song; singing warmer lower notes and then allowing the sound to rip through your windpipe as you climbed to the vibrant high notes at the top of your range. When you sang, it was as if you were possessed and surrendered your body completely to the music. Your chest swelled with pride as you perfectly drew out the last few lyrics before coming to a grand stop. You couldn't help the smile that crept its way onto your face from the pure joy of playing and singing. Turning around, you tucked your hair behind your ear so you were able to gauge Levi's reaction. He had completely stopped his cleaning, his mouth slightly agape but his expression almost unreadable. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by someone banging loudly on the door.

"Hey! Keep it down in there! We don't want to hear that shit!" a booming man's voice echoed through the door.

Levi took four powerful strides towards the door and flung it open to reveal an out of shape, middle-aged man with a receding hairline, wearing a hockey jersey. Although he was much larger than Levi, he easily picked the man up by the collar of his jersey and threw him into the wall.

"You piece of shit-" the man grunted in anger and lunged at Levi, who simply side stepped the advance like it was the easiest thing in the world, and the man tripped and fell into the hallway from the sheer force of his own attack.

"The next time you so rudely knock on someone's door and insult a talent such as this young woman's, I highly suggest you ask yourself if having all of your teeth is important to you," he looked the man up and down with a look of indifference and mild disgust, "Although, judging by your current state I don't see how looks are important to you to begin with. Don't bother us again." With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving the man outside with an incredulous look on his face.

"Did . . . did you seriously just threaten to knock his teeth out?" You look at him, eyes widened in shock. "Because that was fucking awesome. Thank you."

"Does he do that a lot?" he asked, straightening out his clothes with an impartial look on his features.

"Yeah, but he won't anymore," you chuckled. One corner of Levi's mouth turned up in a small satisfactory smile as he returned to doing the dishes.

"You can keep playing if you like. Send the bastard a message," Levi stated nonchalantly.

'What a convenient excuse for him to ask me to keep playing,' you smiled to yourself. 'If he wants to hear me play, then who am I to refuse?' You sat back down at the bench, grin lighting up your whole face as you played the afternoon away.

Just when you thought that maybe you had finally acquired some peace for once this week, your phone lit up. The name on the screen immediately sent a rush of adrenaline through you and a familiar sharp pang in the pit of your stomach that made you feel light-headed.

Ethan.

Fuck.