Birdie (Levi x OC)

forty-seven

Weeks had passed since the night of the storm. The bruises had faded and my deep, angry wound was finally simmering down, but the careless marks left by the brace were at an all-time high. Every step, the metal chafed wickedly along my leg. Blisters and fiery redness covered parts of my knee, my upper thigh, and ankle. A couple of open sores had even begun to develop around my hip and upper thigh where the brace dug in deepest. I had tried to keep it a secret, treating it on my own with the herbal salve the medic supplied, keeping the worst at bay.

It was during a quiet moment of slow intimacy when Levi found out my secret. We were pressed close beneath the sheets, our bodies bare, the moonlight doing little to cut through the darkness of the room. I inhaled the clean, familiar scent of him, letting the tension in my shoulders finally relax. My fingers curled lightly into the tight muscles of his back, a silent claim. Levi shifted, the rhythmic, heavy pressure of his body moving within mine. His name was a low, caught sound in my throat, half pleasure, half surrender. I traced the sharp line of his shoulder blade with my fingers, feeling the solid, safe weight of him, and let out a quiet sigh of pure contentment.

In his arms, reality dissolved. Each kiss was a solid barrier against the lingering pain and the weight of everything I had lost.

Then, his hand found my skin.

His large palm settled on my unclothed hip, stroking slowly, possessively, just below the curve of my waist. I sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath. The skin where his palm landed was hot, damp, and incredibly tender. He froze instantly, recognizing the texture of angry, broken skin beneath his touch. The intimacy vanished instantaneously.

He retracted his hand immediately, his body rigid as he got off of me. He shifted to the edge of the bed and turned up the wick of the oil lamp by our bedside. The sudden light illuminated the tense set of his jaw.

He leaned close, his gaze focused intently on the open sores now visible on my hip. He didn't have to touch it again; he'd felt the damage. "What is this?"

I sighed, exasperated and annoyed that my secret was exposed. "It's just from the brace. Please, can we just forget about it?" I sat up, peppering gentle kisses on his shoulder, urging him back to me. He ignored me, meticulously scanning the points where the brace chafed against my leg for any other serious sores.

I huffed, pulling the blanket over me. "Everybody is already so worried about me. I didn't want to add another thing to the pile."

He finally looked up, his expression one of fierce possession and total clarity. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate command meant only for my ears. "You didn't appreciate me keeping secrets from you," he reminded me, the words a soft reprimand against my ear. "Do not keep stuff like this from me. You are my responsibility. You tell me."

"I've been treating it with the salve," I whispered, the admission tasting like defeat. "I thought I could take care of it on my own."

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, releasing a slow, measured sigh. He caught my gaze once more, gently tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing my temple. "The salve is probably helping, but it might not be enough. We are going to see the medic tomorrow."

I looked at Levi, pleading. "He's going to tell me I need a break from the brace." I grasped his hands desperately. "That means I won't be able to walk, please, Levi. Don't take this away from me. I've been starting to move without the crutches. It's felt so freeing."

Levi looked at me, a tinge of sadness in his eyes. He understood the sacrifice. "Not at the risk of this getting worse. Please, Birdie. You know I can't let that happen."

I could feel the tears coming on, born of frustration more than pain. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I shouldn't have kept this a secret from you."

Levi breathed deeply through his nose and wrapped his arms around my vulnerable form. He pulled my bare body tight against his chest. "It's okay," he said softly, his voice rumbling against my hair. "Maybe we can find a way to adjust the brace. Make sure it's hitting the right spots without chafing."