Silent Vows • LevixReader

Chapter 10

After that first kiss, everything changed—though not all at once. It wasn't a sudden shift, more like the gradual melting of snow, slow and deliberate. Levi wasn't used to being vulnerable, and I wasn't used to someone taking down their walls so cautiously, like every step toward me was uncharted territory. But we learned to meet each other halfway—through quiet gestures, unspoken promises, and moments stolen from the stillness of winter.

It was never easy. Some days felt like progress, like the space between us was shrinking. Other days, Levi slipped back into old habits—silent, withdrawn, locked inside his own mind. But he never pushed me away completely. He let me stay, even when he couldn't find the words to say it.

We walked together through the snow-covered streets, our shoulders brushing with every step. Levi wasn't one for grand displays of affection, but I didn't need that from him. I knew what it meant when his hand brushed against mine, or when his gaze lingered on me just a second too long.

It was in these small moments that I found myself falling deeper for him. A quiet love, steady as the snowfall around us.

One night, the snow was coming down harder than usual. The streets were deserted, muffled by the thick blanket of winter, and the wind carried a biting chill that cut through my coat. Levi walked beside me, silent but present, his gaze fixed ahead.

When we reached his apartment, I hesitated at the door, reluctant to leave the night behind. Something in the air felt different—charged, like the weight of all the unspoken things between us had grown heavier. Levi seemed to feel it too.

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle, but instead of going inside, he turned toward me. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze held an intensity that made my breath catch.

"You coming in?" he asked, his voice low, like a soft rumble beneath the wind.

I nodded, following him inside, grateful to escape the cold. The familiar warmth of the fire greeted us as he stoked the embers back to life, casting flickering light across the room.

We settled on the couch, side by side, our knees brushing beneath the worn fabric. Outside, the storm raged on, but inside, it was quiet—just the two of us, wrapped in the warmth of the fire and the fragile connection we were still learning to navigate.

Levi leaned back, his arm resting along the back of the couch, his expression unreadable as he stared into the flames. I could feel the tension in him, the weight of something he hadn't yet figured out how to say.

"You okay?" I asked softly, turning to face him.

He glanced at me, the flicker of something unreadable in his gaze—hesitation, maybe, or uncertainty. Then, after a long moment, he gave a small nod.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Just... figuring things out."

I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. His hand was warm and solid, grounding me in a way words never could. "You don't have to figure it all out tonight."

Levi's lips twitched—just the barest hint of a smile. "No," he agreed quietly. "I guess not."

We sat like that for a while, the fire crackling softly beside us, filling the silence with its gentle hum. I could feel the tension between us, not heavy or uncomfortable, but expectant—like something waiting to happen.

Levi shifted slightly, turning toward me, and the movement brought him closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. My heart thudded in my chest, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the quiet intimacy of the moment.

I didn't move away.

He reached up slowly, his fingers brushing against my cheek in a touch so light it sent a shiver down my spine. His gaze flickered to my lips, and for a moment, we were suspended in the space between want and hesitation, between fear and longing.

And then Levi kissed me.

This time, there was no hesitation. His lips were warm and firm against mine, the kiss slow and deliberate, like we had all the time in the world. I melted into him, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my fingertips.

He kissed me like he was still learning how—like every touch, every breath, was unfamiliar but deeply needed. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there gently, as if afraid I might slip away.

When we finally pulled apart, we stayed close, our foreheads resting together, breaths mingling in the quiet. Neither of us said anything, but the kiss had spoken louder than words ever could.

Levi's thumb brushed lightly along my jaw, a silent apology for all the times he'd pulled away, for all the moments he hadn't been able to take that step forward. I tilted my head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, letting him know I understood.

"I'm not good at this," he muttered against my skin, his voice rough but honest.

"You always say that and you don't have to be," I whispered back, my fingers curling around his hand. "We'll figure it out."

Levi exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. For a moment, it felt like the weight of the past—the ghosts, the grief, the guilt—had loosened its grip, if only for a little while.

We sat together on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of the fire and each other, the snowstorm outside forgotten. Levi's hand stayed in mine, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles along my skin.

It wasn't a perfect moment—there were still walls between us, still battles left to fight. But it was a beginning. A step forward.

And as I leaned into Levi's warmth, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek, I knew that whatever came next, we would face it together. One small step at a time.

Because love, like healing, took time. And with Levi, I had all the time in the world.
_________________________________