The Sinner's Saint

CARED FOR

Lev should've said no to the walk.
He knew that before they left, knew it during, and knew it now watching Alex shuffle along the shoreline

He knew beach air, sand, the cold and just movement were a terrible mix for cracked ribs and a head that still rang if Alex laughed too loud but she'd said ice cream with the biggest smile and hope in her eyes and like it was medical advice, and now here they are.

Lev hovering like a silent guardian while she leans into him pretending the breeze isn't stealing her breath.

Every time she'd see Lev considering turning around, she'd downplay her pain with a smile, a joke and a "relax, I'm fine."

"See?" She says, taking the tiniest steps known to man. "Doctor-approved." Lev doesn't answer, instead just walks beside her, close enough that if she trips he'll already be there. She bumps his arm on purpose.

"You're thinking too much about this."

"You're injured."

"I'm fine, lev. See im walking."

"You're shuffling." She smiles.

"Walking but sure, long stride," His eyebrows twitched slightly at the nickname. They don't go far, Lev turns them back before she can argue, before the tightness in her breathing turns sharp. She doesn't complain because she knows at the end of the day he's right even though she refuses to admit it.

⚬⚬⚬
By the time they got home, it all hit Alex at once. She's sat on the edge of the bed in her bikini top and shorts just staring at the floor.

The walk, the cold, the effort of pretending she was okay the whole time, had all added up and her body was done. It isn't even really pain, it is more like her body has just switched off.

She knows she needs to wash, knows she can't just sit there forever, but she can't make herself move, it feels impossible. She stands eventually taking short, slow steps toward the bathroom. She didn't want to call Lev, He'd been helping all day. She felt bad and she didn't want him to feel obligated.

"I can do it," she whispers to herself.

"Just sit down" Lev says appearing in the doorway, She hadn't heard him follow her.

"You don't have to-"

"Alexandria, for the love of God, just shut up," Lev says, not angry at her, just frustrated that she keeps saying if he wants to and he doesn't have to. He knows that and yet hes still here for a reason unknown but still here which means he wants to and will do it.

He gently carries her and sets her on the bathroom counter so he can run her bath. He slowly lowers her into the tub once it is ready and kneels beside the tub, sleeves rolled like this is his job, taking care of Alex.

He helps her wash, keeping it practical and respectful. no weird energy, lingering looks or touches, no awkward pauses, just making sure the sand and salt are rinsed off and that she feels better.

When she is done he hands her a towel and her clothes and turns away without needing to be asked. Once she is dry, redressed, and settled, he kneels beside her to clean the wound and Alex, already drowning in guilt, shakes her head.

"I'll do it." Lev look at her for a second, then nods and steps out. She struggles but gets through it anyway.

⚬⚬⚬
Later, they end up on the couch with a baking show on, too bright, too cheerful, people yelling about sponge texture and Alex fully understanding them on a spiritual level. She's sat criss-cross apple sauce hugging a pillow, sore but better and now buzzing for some reason. Lev is sitting beside her, laptop open, silent in a way that isn't his usual calm.