The Sinner's Saint

ALMOST

She took too long.
She knows this because Lev is sitting on his bed shirtless with grey sweatpants sitting low on his hip, staring in her direction when she opens it with the expression of someone who has been waiting for a reasonable amount of time and has now moved past reasonable.

"In my defence, I was conditioning," she says, her hands up in surrender, lucky she decided to use a robe instead of just a towel.

"For forty minutes," he says.

"My hair is long Also why are you timing me? u miss me that bad?" Her voice is teasing, He doesn't answer instead just watches her move around his room like it's hers, which makes him feel content and settled for some reason. As she's lathering up with his shea body butter, she put him on and hes never looked back, He asks.

"What do you want to eat,"

"What do you wanna make?" She asks head down trying to dry her hair, answering sideways

"Don't answer my question with a question,"

"Fine, how about wings?"

"Just wings? You're weird," she kisses her teeth turning to look at him.

"Obviously with sides Lev, be so serious rn, I'm not an animal." He shrugs like you'll never know and walks out, leaving her in the room. She shakes her head cause that's to be expected of Lev.

She wanders his room trying to find her claw clip and clothes. His outside clothes are already folded in the dirty pile, separated from everything else with the precision of someone who has strong feelings about where outside ends and inside begins.

She learned early not to sit on his bed in her outside clothes. Made that mistake once, seconds from falling asleep, and the look he gave her was enough to wake her up and act right immediately.

She finds her claw clip eventually and changes into one of her shorts and one of his shirts. She has things here now, a drawer and an empty side of his closet appeared one day without either of them discussing it and she accepted it.

He hears the bedroom door open while he's mid-cook, light footsteps, then her smell and the specific quality of silence that means she is standing in the doorway watching him, which she always does.

He points to a glass with a fancy-looking drink in it and a topping without turning around.

"Ouu what is it?" she asks, already climbing onto the counter and grabbing it. He doesn't tell her to get down and sit on a stool instead. He figured she preferred counters over stools.

"A mango tropical mocktail," he answers now watching her drink it, she takes one sip, then another, then doesn't stop till she's half done. He knows she liked it. He made it.

"Damn, this is actually crazy. you might need a raise after this," What she really wanted to say was u must want your dick sucked or sum but she decides to be respectful. He smirks, quietly proud of himself, and goes back to the stove.

He notices her wearing his shirt and says nothing cause theres nothing to say except that she looks good in it.

She swings her feet thinking about how this house has become somewhere she can just come, the way you can just breathe.

"Lev," she says.

"Mm."

"Nothing," she says. "Just checking you were there." He looks at her over his shoulder for exactly one second.

"Where else would I be," he says, and turns back to the stove. She smiles at the back of his head.

"You could model, you know," she says randomly.