The Sinner's Saint

OH GHOST

Lev isn't nervous.
He tries to tell himself, standing in front of his bathroom mirror at 4pm, but then doesn't say it again because repeating a thing is the same as not believing it the first time. To be honest, He was a little nervous because He just wanted it to go correctly. That's all.

He grew up surrounded by women with standards so high they needed their own altitude rating. His grandmothers, his aunts, his cousins, his sisters, and specifically his nene, who once made a grown man with a trigger finger go home and change his outfit before she would be seen standing next to him in public, and the man went. That was the household. That was the baseline. You don't leave the house looking like you didn't think about it. You think about it, you choose intentionally, and you wear things that fit correctly, because the way something fits tells people exactly how seriously you take yourself.

He absorbed all of it without anyone sitting him down and explaining it. That's how it worked in his family. You watched and you understood. So now his house is always clean, his wardrobe is organised by weight and colour, he knows what works on his body and he doesn't deviate from it trying to seem interesting. He's interesting. The clothes just have to keep up.

He showers clean and efficiently with a 30-second cold finish, it's a non-negotiable and has been since he was a teen and he isn't going to explain the reasoning to anyone because honestly there's no reasoning, it's just what he does.

He does his skincare after, which is just a lightweight moisturiser Siena set him up with four years ago. His skin has no complaints so he has no reason to change it.

He puts cologne on last, two sprays only. His aunt Canan told him once that a man who wears too much cologne is a man who doesn't trust the rest of himself to make an impression, and he has never forgotten it. Tonight he goes for something that sits quietly and yet is powerful, like him.

He stands in front of the mirror shirtless for a while after, just looking. The tattoos, the build, the way everything sits on him. Not vanity exactly, more like inventory. He knows what he has. He's comfortable with it

⚬⚬⚬
The outfit had been chosen before he even asked Alexandria out.

Dark trousers, fitted properly at the waist and tapered clean at the ankle. A shirt in a deep shade that works well against his complexion, with the top button left open and sleeves rolled to the forearms. Shoes that are simple and cost more than they look. Lastly, a watch that isn't trying too hard even though it has every right to. He hasn't put any of it on yet but he already knows exactly how it'll come together. He knows he's going to look like a man who has somewhere worth being tonight.

He's not the kind of man who gets visibly excited about things. He doesn't pace, ramble to people about his feelings or make noise about what is happening inside him. He's learned early that stillness is its own kind of power, that people who broadcast everything have nothing left to surprise you with.

He's making random small adjustments when His phone rings at 4:12. He looks at the screen to see it's Nikolai. He lets it ring to the last second before he picks up and puts it to his ear without changing his annoyed expression or tone.

"What,"

"That's how you answer the phone?"

"That's how I answer when it's you. What do you want, Nikolai?" theres a sigh Then the sound of Niko leaning forward in whatever chair he is currently occupying.

"Ghost's here." theres silence for a few seconds.

"No. I have plans."

"Lev-"

"I said no."

"It's a two-hour window. We'll be done by six."

He sets the phone face down on the dresser and stands there in the quiet of his room, still in a towel, staring at nothing. He has somewhere to be at seven. He's been looking forward to tonight more than he's going to admit to anyone, and Niko is telling him the one thing that actually cannot wait has decided not to wait. He picks the phone back up