Birdie (Levi x OC)

eighty-two

I was slow to wake up as the first streaks of dawn filtered through the cracks of the hunting cabin. The air was heavy with the scent of damp cedar and the smell of burnt ashes.

I shifted, my hand instinctively reaching across the hard floorboards for the solid, grounding heat of my husband. I found only the rough canvas of a rolled-up jacket that was placed under my head.

Panic hit me like a physical blow. I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs as I scanned the small room. The interior was bathed in the soft, deceptive pinks of a rising sun, revealing the cold fire and the empty space on the floor where Levi should have been. The morning air was unnervingly still and surprisingly warm considering the downpour of rain the previous day.

Where is he? Did they find us? Did I sleep through a fight?

My mind raced through every nightmare scenario as I reached for my brace, only to find the spot on the floor beside me empty.

"What the hell?" I whispered, my voice thick with a rising dread.

I forced myself up, using the wall as a guide. I kept my weight pinned to my good leg, my eyes searching the dim corners for anything to use as a crutch. I spotted a thick, sturdy branch leaning against the frame of the door; a makeshift staff that looked like it had been placed there deliberately.

I hobbled toward the entrance, the wood biting into my palm as I swung myself out into the clearing. "Levi!" I called out. The forest swallowed my voice, the silence of the trees only fueling the knots in my stomach.

No answer.

Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes, a frantic, jagged fear taking hold. I followed the faint, rhythmic sound of running water toward the edge of the clearing, using the branch to bear the weight my leg couldn't.

"Levi!" I tried again, my voice fracturing. "Levi, please! I'm getting really freaked out!"

"I'm here, Birdie."

The sound of his voice made my knees nearly buckle with relief. I snapped my head toward the stream, my vision blurring.

He was crouched at the water's edge. His bare back was a map of scrapes and fresh, angry bruises, his skin glistening with the cold mountain water. He had clearly been scrubbing the filth and the trauma of the previous day from his skin. In his hands, he held my leg brace.

He was meticulously cleaning the leather and metal, using his discarded shirt to pick the grit from the hinges.

"What are you doing?" I choked out, hobbling toward him. The tears were streaming down my face now, hot and uncontrollable. "You scared the life out of me. I thought—I thought Floch had found us and taken you, or—"

"Hey, hey. Breathe." He stood up slowly, a sharp grimace flickering across his face as he navigated the slick stones. He limped toward me, his hand catching my forearm to steady my frantic swaying. "Shhh. I'm okay. We're okay. I'm sorry...I should have waited for you to wake up before I slipped away."

I let out an indignant, shaky sniffle, my terror dissolving into the safety of his shadow as he pulled me into his arms. "Yeah," I muffled against his bare, cool chest. "You really should have."

"How are you even standing?" I breathed into his skin, the scent of fresh water finally calming my pulse. "Levi, yesterday you could barely move your head without wincing."

"Rest did more than I expected. My eye is a mess and my hand is useless, but the rest of me is sore...but functional."

"But you're in pain," I insisted, my fingers trembling as I reached up to trace the jagged line of stitches across his face.