Don't Write Me Notes || Levi x Reader

11. it doesn't count if you're hypothermic

You grit your teeth together. You're in such a good mood from last night and your morning with Levi, and you're not about to let your mother ruin it now. "It happens," you say nonchalantly, setting the plates down on the counter. "The kids are looking for seconds."

"Not surprised! Get a start on the dishes so that I have more space to work, I'll prep some more plates for them."

Dishes? Ugh. Not wanting to start an argument or incur your mother's wrath in any way, shape, or form, you silently move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, turning on the faucet and adding dish soap.

"So," your mother says, "tell me more about Levi!"

"Didn't you interrogate him enough two nights ago?" you ask, keeping your gaze focused on the task at hand.

"Well, I want to hear from you! He mentioned his major, but is he smart? How are his grades? And what's his family like?" she continues, slipping some dirty utensils into your half-filled sink. 

Inhale, exhale. Come back from hanging out with your mother in a good mood. Levi asked you to do that and you're going to try your best. "He's smart," you say, scrubbing at a bowl with a sponge. "He works really hard and he's naturally intelligent."

"And his family?"

"They're nice."

"That's it?"

You don't know what she's getting at. "They're... welcoming?"

She sighs. "Angel, I thought I raised you smarter than this. If you didn't want us to know something, then make sure that something isn't easily discoverable with a quick search online!"

You turn towards her, abandoning the dishes. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Honey," your mother murmurs, frowning at you meaningfully, "you should've mentioned that he was Nicholas Lovof's son!"

Oh. Shit. "He's his stepfather," you dismiss, turning back to the sink. "I didn't think it mattered."

"You can't possibly be this naïve."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Nicholos Lovof, honey. His story with Levi and his mother is so inspiring! And his wealth," she says with a chuckle. "Wow! I'm not sure how you managed that."

Your grip tightens on the sponge, and suds squeeze out. The dig at you doesn't even bother you all that much, not compared to what she said about Levi and his mother. Inspiring? Levi told you what happened to him and his mother. And sure, maybe he hasn't told you all of it, but he's told you enough to know that it's not inspiring. It was performative. "Mom," you complain.

She cuts you off. "He's got money," she hums, navigating to the other side of the kitchen. "That's all I'm saying. You better hold onto that one, because who knows if it'll get better than that!"

And god, you think you've had enough.

Because Levi's mother never asked you anything like this. Her questions to you were whether Levi treated you well and if you both were happy together. Kuchel genuinely cared about how you felt and if Levi was being good to you. Nothing about your background. Nothing about your future. Nothing about anything like that.

But that's all your mother seems to care about. That he's from a rich family. That he's got money. Nothing about what Levi likes, what he's passionate about, whether he treats you well, if you complement each other at all. She doesn't care about him, just the idea of him.

Kuchel had cared about you. Which is more than you can say about your mother. 

Frustrated, you drop the sponge and grab the nearest towel, drying your hands. "You don't need me here," you say through gritted teeth, trying not to let your anger seep into your tone. "I'll leave."