Sage and Whiskey | Levi x OC x Jean

Chapter 4

Today marked one week since that wheelbarrow arrived at her doorstep, and Karma knew Levi wouldn't last another. He might not even last the night.

Her gut felt like a strangled stress toy.

Jean's presence only made matters worse. His confession the day before, which they'd silently agreed to ignore, was like a neon sign hanging between them. Sometimes their hands brushed and Jean muttered an apology. Sometimes they made quick eye contact.

They'd been peeling off Levi's old bandages when Jean spoke for the first time in hours. "The hell is this clear stuff?" He held up a slimy strip of fabric. Karma was bent over, snipping the stitches of the closed wounds on Levi's chest.

"I don't know."

"It's not blood, so that's gotta be good right?"

Karma just bobbed her shoulders.

"Probably just whiskey." When Karma didn't respond, Jean probed on. "It still stinks in here. We could try burning some incense."

"Sure."

"I read somewhere that sage can cleanse bad vibes and all that voodoo—I'm sure the tension in here isn't helping his healing."

"Mhmm."

"Karma, are you even listening? Are we just gonna avoid talking about what happened forever?"

"Yes, Jean. We are."

"Well, I don't want to."

"Fine. Talk all you want, but I'm not contributing."

"Will you at least listen?"

Karma shoved a sigh from her lungs and flicked her gaze up at him.

"Good," he said. "Look, I can forgive the fact that 'Levi' is just 'Evil' rearranged, but I can't forgive what this bastard is doing to you. You're a wreck, Karma. You've got this worried look glued to your face and I swear I've seen gray hairs. I'm not asking you to love me back—I'm just asking you to protect your heart. Take care of yourself. If he dies, I refuse to lose you too."

Karma kept her head bent.

"We're done now. You can go home," she said, voice thick. Tears dripped onto crumpled bandages.

"What? We still have to wrap his legs. Don't you want help—"

"Please, Jean. Just go."

"Will you want me back tomorrow?"

"I don't know."

"Okay." And he left. But he wasn't gone long.

Jean peeked through the guest room door when the yellow-curtained windows were black with speckled lights. Karma was slumped over the edge of Levi's bed, asleep in her folded arms. She was a much more active sleeper than Levi—she snored softly and her head lolled from cheek to cheek.

"Karma." Jean shook her elbow. She flipped cheeks and muttered something. Jean rolled his shoulders. "Alright, we'll do this the hard way."

He scooped Karma up, her knees and neck flopped over his forearms. He nudged the creaky door open with his hip. Her eyes blinked halfway open.

"Jean, what are you doing?"

"I figured you wouldn't listen to me, and someone's gotta take care of you."

"I can take care of me."

"And when was the last time you slept in your actual bed?"

"Point taken."