Silent Vows • LevixReader

Chapter 9

It happened on a quiet night, just like before. The infirmary was empty, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire, casting flickering shadows along the walls. It was the kind of night that made the world feel smaller, like it was just the two of us tucked away in this little corner of existence.

Levi and I sat side by side at the table, our knees brushing beneath the wood, a subtle but constant point of contact. It wasn't intentional, but neither of us moved away. The warmth of him beside me was grounding, a reminder that whatever this was between us, it was real.

This time, there were no sudden interruptions, no clattering trays or heavy footsteps to shatter the moment. There was only the firelight, the soft breath of the night, and the space between us that seemed to shrink with every passing second.

I felt Levi shift slightly beside me, his presence somehow growing heavier, more deliberate. When I glanced at him, I found him already looking at me. His expression was unreadable, but there was an intensity in his gaze that sent my heart racing.

I didn't pull away.

I saw it—the way his walls flickered, just for a moment, the careful distance he always kept slipping away. And then Levi leaned in, slow and deliberate, closing the space between us.

I met him halfway.

The kiss was hesitant at first, as if we were testing unfamiliar ground. His lips brushed softly against mine, cautious and restrained, as though he wasn't sure he was allowed to want this. But I kissed him back, just as gently, and I felt the tension in him melt, like a rope slowly loosening after being pulled too tight for too long.

Levi exhaled against my mouth, the breath catching slightly, as if even this small act of connection was overwhelming in its own way. His hand found mine under the table, his fingers threading through mine with a touch that was both hesitant and grounding.

And then the kiss deepened.

It wasn't rushed, and it wasn't desperate. It was slow and steady, a quiet exploration of something we'd both been circling around for far too long. His lips were warm against mine, the kiss deliberate, as if he were memorizing the way it felt—like he wasn't sure if he'd ever let himself have this again.

I shifted closer without thinking, my free hand brushing against his arm, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my fingertips. He responded in kind, his hand tightening around mine just slightly, a silent reassurance that he was here, that he wasn't pulling away this time.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, but the world outside seemed distant and unimportant. All that mattered was the way Levi kissed me—carefully, but with purpose, like someone rediscovering something he'd thought lost forever.

When we finally pulled apart, the space between us felt both too much and not enough. Levi rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin, the tips of our noses brushing lightly. Neither of us moved, and neither of us spoke. We didn't need to.

The kiss had said everything.

We sat like that for a long moment, the quiet between us filled with the weight of unspoken emotions. I could feel the steady rise and fall of Levi's breath, the slight tremor in his exhale, as if the moment had unsettled him in a way he hadn't expected.

I opened my eyes and found him looking at me again, his expression softer than I'd ever seen it. There was still that familiar guardedness in his gaze, but it was tempered now by something else—something warm and fragile, like the first breath of spring after a long winter.

"You okay?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Levi gave the smallest of nods, though his brow furrowed slightly, as if the question confused him. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You?"

I smiled, feeling something light and warm bloom in my chest. "Yeah."

For a moment, we stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hands intertwined beneath the table. It wasn't a grand moment, and it wasn't a sweeping declaration of love. But it felt right, like a step we'd both been waiting to take, even if neither of us had known how.

Levi's fingers traced lightly over the back of my hand, a gesture so subtle I almost missed it. It was such a small thing, but it carried the weight of all the things he couldn't say.

I squeezed his hand gently, a silent promise that I wasn't going anywhere.

After a while, Levi let out a soft breath, his lips brushing lightly against my forehead in an unintentional but tender gesture. It wasn't quite a kiss, but it was close enough to make my heart ache with the quiet intimacy of it.

The fire crackled again, and Levi shifted, leaning back just slightly. But he didn't let go of my hand, and that small gesture spoke louder than any words ever could.

"We should..." He trailed off, glancing toward the dying embers in the hearth.

"Yeah," I whispered, not really wanting to move, but knowing we couldn't stay here forever.

Levi gave me a small, almost sheepish look—something so out of character that it made me smile. "This isn't... what I planned."

I laughed softly, the sound light and easy between us. "Me neither."

For a moment, his lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile ghosting across his face. It was fleeting, but it was real, and it was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

Levi exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing once more over the back of my hand before he finally, reluctantly, let go.

"Come on," he muttered, rising from his seat and glancing toward the door. "We should get some rest."

I nodded, standing up and following him toward the door, the warmth of the moment still lingering between us like the fading heat of a fire.

As we stepped out into the cold night air, the quiet intimacy of the kiss stayed with me, wrapping around me like a second skin. It wasn't a promise, not exactly. But it was a beginning—a small, steady step into whatever this was between us.
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