Levi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait…thePerseus? Slayed Medusa, flew a horse, hero of legend?”
I snort. “No. Just…a Perseus. Common name back then. Overused, frankly.”
He tries to smile, but it sticks halfway. “And what was he to you?”
“He was kind,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “Radiantly kind. Too much light in one person. I thought I could survive on distance, that loving him quietly from afar would be enough. But it wasn’t. Not for him. Not for me. He wanted more…and I didn’t know how to give it. So, he left, as he should have. And that’s how I learned what mortals crave, and what gods were never taught.”
“And now?” he asks quietly. “Does it still feel like that? Or does it feel different with me?”
I look at him, and everything in my heart softens. Not because I’m less afraid.
But because he’s worth the fear.
“Partially,” I admit. “But with you, I’m more worried about getting it wrong again.”
He cups my jaw, thumb grazing the corner of my mouth. “You’re not.” His voice is steady, certain in ways I can’t bring myself to be. “And you don’t have to be scared by yourself.”
I want to believe him. Gods, I do.
But belief is a finicky thing for someone who’s spent eternity surviving without it.
I pull him tighter against me, my lips at his temple. “That’s enough existential introspection for one evening, don’t you think?” Levi laughs, the sound vibrating straight into my chest, burrowing, the reminder that I am not alone, not this time. Something to hold on to when the silence returns. “Or…we can dissect your former flames?”
“Talk about a pivot, Funeral Guy,” he says with a laugh, burying his head in my neck. “You realize we sound like a couple doing post-therapy pillow talk, right?”
I glance at him sideways. “Youarethe one who engineered nudity and ate all my cheese.”
He smirks. “To be fair, I only meant to do one of those things.”
I arch a brow. “And which one was that?”
He just grins, chin now resting on my chest. He’s so close I can count the freckles across his nose one by one and I hate how easily it disarms me.
“Lately, there was this one guy,” he starts, tracing his fingers through my chest hair. “Ezra. He’s a good guy. Owns the supply store in town and we’ve known each other our whole lives, it feels like. It wasn’t serious. Not really. But it was…comfortable.”
The name tastes unfamiliar on my tongue, and it leaves a faint ache under my ribs I can’t quite move past. “Were you…together?”
“Not officially. Certainly not publicly.” Levi pauses, reaching for his wineglass and rolling the stem between his fingers. “Wewere just casually filling the silence for each other. I kept expecting to feel more. He kept pretending not to notice that I didn’t.”
“Did you ever love him?”
He shakes his head immediately and the tightness in my chest loosens a bit. “I wanted to. But I think I was just grateful that someone saw me and didn’t ask for more than I could give.”
Something about that cuts deeper than I expect.
“How long ago?” I ask, surprised by the tightness in my voice.
He shrugs again. “A while. We still see each other out and about sometimes…but not like that. He stopped by today, actually.”
My jaw tightens. “For?”
“To drop off lemon bars. And to ask about dinner.” Levi holds my gaze. “I told him I was seeing someone. That it was new, but it mattered.”
I say nothing, though my shadows shift slightly along the wall, belying the calm I pretend to carry. The ache under my ribs loosens. Not all endings bruise.
We lapse into quiet again, picking at the tray. My appetite hasn’t caught up with my emotions, but I pop a grape into my mouth just to keep my hands busy.
“I don’t want casual anymore,” Levi says, quiet but certain. “I want this. You.”
