Don't Write Me Notes || Levi x Reader

13. it doesn't... fuck it, it counts

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opens. You twist yourself so that you're facing him, and you involuntarily stiffen up when Levi emerges from the bathroom, wearing one of the hotel's fancy bathrobes. "You're up," he says. "Sleep okay?"

You nod, pulling the covers up to your chin. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

For a second, you think it's going to be awkward, but Levi diffuses the tension right away. He walks around the bed to be at the same side you're on, and you sit yourself up, keeping the blanket tight around you. You smile because you think you know what's coming, and you guess correctly; Levi leans in and kisses you.

You smile against his mouth, and you're still smiling when he pulls away. God, did you ever need that. "Better?" Levi asks as he leans back.

You beam. "Much."

"You got my note?"

He's at his bag now, rummaging for clothing. "Yeah- yeah, I did." You twist, reaching for it on the nightstand. You need to tell him, just get it out there before he does something else stupidly considerate. "But you- you can't write me notes."

Levi turns towards you. He's shirtless (fuck, he's so hot) and wearing black sweats. "What?"

"You can't write me notes," you say, looking away, folded piece of paper pinched between your fingers.

"The fuck are you on about now? I thought you'd like it."

"I did!" you insist, turning to look at him. His eyes are filled with curiosity and warmth and fuck, you want to melt. "God, I did, but that's the problem."

Levi crosses his arms. "It's a problem now?"

You nod, biting back a smile. "Yes, because it was sweet, and perfect, and exactly what I needed, but-"

But now you're going to hold onto it forever. And now Levi's ruined all other men for you because your standards for a boyfriend are rising a bit higher with everything he does. And now you're going to save this, cherish it, and if... if this doesn't work out, or...

You turn away from him. "It's too sweet," you say, because trying to say I'm afraid of falling in love with you way too fast is a bit too daunting. "That's all. Don't write me notes."

"Bullshit," Levi replies easily. "But fine."

You sigh, wishing he just knew what you were thinking so that you didn't have to tell him. You can't look at him, so you just keep your eyes glued on the blankets, note still pinched between your fingers.

He's quiet for a while, then says, "you're scared."

"You aren't?"

Levi doesn't reply to that one. But he moves towards the bed and slides in on the other side, shifting over to you. You roll onto your side so that you're facing him, but it's hard to keep eye contact. Your stomach feels like it's doing flips.

Eventually, he sighs, and he murmurs, "you think I'm not?"

You shrug. "You're hard to read."

Levi's not looking at you as he says, "we can just do it scared."

"Do what?" you ask, surprised. "A relationship?"

He tilts his head; hair falls in his eyes. "We did pretty damn well for a fake relationship," he grumbles. "How hard can a real one be?"

Immediately, you feel a thousand times better. The positive confirmation of what he wants was all you needed. "Can't be that bad," you joke lightly. 

His lips quirk; it almost looks like he's smiling. "I've never done this before," Levi says quietly.