The door clicked shut behind him.
Levi stepped into the house, brushing cold night air off his shoulders as he pulled off his jacket. The silence hit first—too still. No footsteps. No voice. No soft hum of music or the faint clink of plates from the kitchen.
He glanced at the time on the wall.
11:46 p.m.
Three hours late.
His jaw clenched slightly as he stepped into the living room, but the moment he saw it, he stopped.
The fireplace was still burning low, casting warm light over the space. A small bed—more like a pallet—had been set up on the floor, covered in soft blankets. Popcorn in a big bowl sat untouched beside two soda bottles, one half-opened. The TV screen was paused on some old cinema title, and beside the couch…
Alexa.
Dressed in a red gown, curled up on one end of the couch, her head resting on her arm. Fast asleep.
Levi just stood there, staring.
She hadn't said anything. No texts. No mention of plans.
She was trying to surprise him.
His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he rubbed a hand down his face. A tired, unimpressed sound left his throat—half scoff, half sigh.
"She really did this," he muttered to himself, shaking his head slowly.
He should've known. She had that look earlier. Like she was waiting for something. Like she was hoping.
And he didn't even show.
Of course she didn't wait up forever. She tried. She waited. Then sleep took her.
He stepped further into the room, gaze still on her. That stubborn, soft-hearted girl who didn't belong in his world, but somehow kept digging deeper into it. Into him.
He crouched near the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at her like she was something strange. Something delicate. Something dangerous in a way he couldn't name.
His voice came out low, barely a whisper.
"You didn't even tell me."
No answer. Just her quiet breathing.
He didn't touch her. Didn't wake her.
He just stayed there, for a long moment, watching her sleep as the fire cracked in the background.
"Alexa…" he murmured under his breath. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
Levi moved closer, crouching near the couch. He watched her a moment longer before slipping one arm under her knees, the other behind her back. She was warm, light, softer than she had any right to be in his arms.
She stirred only a little as he lifted her.
He carried her across the room, careful not to step on the edge of the blankets or knock over the soda. The fire popped softly behind him as he lowered her onto the little pallet she'd made. He adjusted the pillow beneath her head with one hand, but before he could pull away—
Her fingers curled weakly around his wrist.
"Levi?" she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
He paused, frozen above her.
"You're late," she whispered, half-sleep-talking.
His mouth twitched slightly. Not a smile. Just… something.
"I know," he muttered.
She blinked slowly, eyes opening. Groggy, but steady enough to find his face in the dim firelight.
"Watch a movie with me," she said softly, like it was the most obvious request in the world. Like she hadn't just been sleeping for hours waiting for him.
Levi stared down at her, unreadable.
For a second, he didn't answer. He looked at her hand still holding his wrist, then at the blankets she laid out, the untouched popcorn.
Then, with a quiet sigh, he shifted, sat down beside her, one knee bent, back against the couch.
He reached for the remote.
"What's this crap you picked?" he muttered, voice low but not unkind.
Alexa smiled, sleepy and small. "Romance. Deal with it."
Levi shook his head once, but didn't leave.
Didn't even move.
Just stayed there beside her as the screen lit up again, the fire flickering in his cold, sharp eyes.
The movie started with dramatic music and some over-the-top dialogue Levi immediately judged.
Alexa blinked tiredly at the screen, scooting closer under her blanket, trying to act like she was fully awake.
Levi leaned back against the couch with one leg stretched out, the other bent. He picked up a piece of popcorn, stared at it, then tossed it back into the bowl without tasting it.
"This acting is terrible," he muttered.
Alexa yawned, eyes half-lidded. "Says the guy who talks like a villain in every sentence."
He glanced sideways. "At least I'm not pretending to be awake when I'm clearly losing the battle."
"I'm fine," she said through another yawn, elbowing his arm lightly. "I waited all night for this."
"You waited," he said dryly, "but didn't tell me."
"It was supposed to be a surprise."
Levi didn't answer that. Just kept watching the movie, one brow raised at a scene that was way too emotional for the thirty-second relationship the characters had.
Alexa huffed. "You're not even trying to enjoy it."
"I enjoy competent storytelling," he said flatly.
"Heartless," she whispered, already slumping a little more under the blanket.
Another five minutes passed. She blinked slowly. Yawned again. Her head bobbed once. Twice. Then settled for a moment on his shoulder.
He looked at her.
She stirred, forcing herself upright.
"I'm still watching—" she mumbled.
"You're losing," he said, voice lower now, but there was something in it. Something softer.
"I'm not—" she said, but the next words came slower. "Shut up… it's getting good."
Her body relaxed again, leaning into him without realizing. Her head dropped gently back against his shoulder, hair brushing his jaw. The blanket slipped from one shoulder, and Levi, without a word, reached over and tucked it back around her.
He didn't move.
Didn't push her off.
Just sat there in the fire-warmed room, the movie playing on, with her sleeping against him like she'd belonged there the whole time.
And for once, he didn't feel the need to argue with that.
*****
Morning light slipped in through the curtains in thin lines, golden and quiet.
Alexa blinked awake slowly, frowning a little. This wasn't the couch.
She shifted under the blanket, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Her room. Her bed. The soft scent of her own lotion mixed with something faintly colder—familiar, in a way that made her chest flutter.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, confused.
"I fell asleep in the parlor…"
She looked down. Her dress from last night was still on, though her heels were off and someone had placed a glass of water on her nightstand. The room was still, her blanket pulled up neatly over her, like someone had made sure she was warm.
Her fingers brushed over it absently.
It wasn't hard to put two and two together. She didn't remember walking to bed. And Levi… he wasn't the type to just leave her slumped on a couch all night, no matter how indifferent he pretended to be.
A small smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
"He carried me."
The thought felt too soft for someone like him. But it also felt real.
She reached for the glass of water and took a sip, glancing toward the door.
Levi was probably already gone. Or up and brooding in silence somewhere.
Still, the memory of falling asleep against him—of the warmth and the way he hadn't moved—lingered like a thread wrapped loosely around her heart.
Slipping out of bed, she moved toward the door, her bare feet quiet against the floor. The house was still, the faintest scent of popcorn and something darker—Levi—lingering in the air.
When she stepped into the parlor, she paused.
Levi was already there.
Sitting back on the couch like he'd been carved into it, legs crossed, one arm resting lazily along the back, a thick black book open on his lap. The title gleamed faintly in the morning light: Primordials.
A whiskey glass sat beside him on the table, half full, the ice long melted.
The pallet from last night was gone. The soda bottles and popcorn had vanished—neatly tucked away like the whole thing never happened.
He didn't glance her way.
He just turned the page, calm and absorbed.
"You always clean up like it was a crime scene?" she asked, voice still a little raspy from sleep.
Levi's eyes lifted, quiet and unreadable. "You passed out twenty-three minutes in."
She walked farther in, arms crossing. "I was waiting for someone."
He shut the book gently, finger keeping his place. "You waited like someone mourning."
"You carried me?"
He barely nodded. "You talk in your sleep."
Her jaw dropped. "No, I don't."
He lifted one brow. "You asked me to marry your pillow."
"You're making that up."
He didn't confirm or deny—just reopened Primordials like she was background noise.
"You're the worst," she grumbled, heading for the fridge.
"I carried you," he murmured. "Which makes me the best."
Alexa walked into the kitchen, stretching one arm as she yanked the fridge open. Her eyes landed on the soda first—cold, untouched. Then she spotted the toast Levi must've tossed into the warmer earlier, still slightly crisp. She tossed both on a plate and headed back to the parlor.
"Good thing no business today," she said, dropping onto the far end of the couch with a quiet sigh, legs tucked underneath her.
Levi didn't look up right away. His focus stayed on Primordials, but she knew he heard her.
She reached for the fashion magazine sitting on the table, flipping it open casually while munching on her toast.
"Unless you're sneaking off to meet demons later," she added, watching him from the corner of her eye.
"No demons," Levi said, voice low. "Just humans pretending they're monsters."
Alexa gave a half-laugh. "You should write fortune cookies."
He turned a page without blinking. "You'd eat the paper."
She smirked and took a sip of soda. "Only if it's buttered."
The silence between them stretched like a blade. Levi didn't move. Didn't blink. He just watched her—like he was waiting to see what she'd do with the truth he'd handed her.
"A Primordial…" Alexa's voice was a whisper. "I've heard of them. I thought they were myths."
Levi leaned back in the chair, legs crossed, a single brow lifting. "You think a myth dragged you out of a burning house?"
"I didn't say I don't believe you," she said quickly. "I just—" She rubbed her hands down her arms. "I thought vampires were the worst thing out there."
Levi tilted his head, eyes glinting. "They are," he said softly. "To humans. But to my kind… they're pests."
Alexa swallowed.
"Then what are you to them?" she asked, her voice quiet. "God?"
"No," he said. "I'm what they pray never wakes."
Her breath caught.
Levi rose slowly, the room shrinking under his presence. He walked toward the hearth, where the flames cast shadows against the marble. "Primordials came before the rest. Before the rules. Before the gods started assigning purpose to monsters."
She watched him, her pulse hammering. "So… are you evil?"
He turned. "Define evil."
"You kill people."
"So does your government. So does the sun, eventually." He walked to the liquor cart, poured something dark into a glass. "Intent matters. Not death."
She looked down. Her voice was smaller now. "Then what's your intent with me?"
Silence.
Levi sipped his drink, watching her from over the rim. "You keep asking the wrong questions."
Alexa stepped closer, her courage shaking but still intact. "Then give me the right ones."
A low smile tugged at the edge of his mouth—but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You should be afraid of me, Alexa."
"I am."
His smile faded.
"Then stop being curious. Curiosity gets people broken."
Her throat tightened, but she didn't back down. "Then why save me?"
He stepped closer. Just one step, but it shattered the distance between them.
"Because I bought you."
The words hit her like a slap.
Alexa blinked. "What?"
"I bought you," he repeated, voice low and final. "In front of men who would've torn you apart for fun. That night was no accident."
Her breath faltered.
"You don't even know me," she whispered.
"I don't need to."
His voice had dropped to something colder. Older. It didn't sound like a man's anymore—it sounded like something time itself had carved into stone.
Levi turned from her, the conversation over.
"Go to your room."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't repeat myself."
The finality in his tone crushed any rebellion forming on her tongue. And yet, her feet didn't move. She stayed rooted there, staring at his back.
"Levi…"
His hand tightened around the glass.
Her heart thudded harder.
"Tonight," he said, not turning around, "I'll show you what I really am."