By the time evening comes, I park myself in front of the TV for the newest episode of one of my many reality shows. Beside me, Lev’s tapping on his laptop. I’m starting to think the guy never gets off the damn thing. I sneak a peek, spotting a map on the screen but not exactly what he’s searching for.
Probably planning his getaway.
“Another one?” He scowls at the show.
“Yes, I have four different shows in circulation right now. Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“Great,” he mutters in a tone implying it isn’t that at all.
“Not asking you to watch them with me.”
“And what—hide in my room and have you sneak away? I enjoy my life. Fuck knows what your brother would do if you got away.”
I’m about to make a joke about Zeno’s behaviours, but his words strike a deeper wonder, one that isn’t my business. “Do you? Enjoy your life, I mean.”
Lev stares stoically. His finger begins his tapping on the side of his leg.
What are you doing? Why even ask something like that?
“You didn’t know me, but you took a bullet with what seemed like little thought. Then, you agreed to leave behind everything to hang out here. Seems like you’re punishing yourself for something.”
His eyes narrow. The tapping continues, and I should probably shut up.
“Look up the termdutyand study the definition.” He slams his laptop closed and pushes it onto the floor before swiftly standing. “I’m going to shower. Do not consider leaving this room.”
“My show,” I remind him, crossing my legs. “I won’t be going anywhere.”
After Lev disappears into the bathroom, stick firmly up his ass, I get the sense it was the wrong thing to say, and immediately, my stomach twists with guilt. He mentioned something weird yesterday: that he feels like a resource, and my point—which I didn’t manage to get to—was that I never asked him here for his usefulness.
Only the fact that I trust him and feel safer.
And I do. Maybe it’s stupid to feel that way about a near-stranger, but it’s the truth. Lev’s presence isn’t stressful like Zeno’s, or chaotic like Amara’s, or tense like Alessio’s. He’s just…calm. He’s the kind of person I need in my life but haven’t been lucky enough to find.
Amid watching peoples’ survival instincts kick in to win a ton of money, Lev exits the bathroom, sweatpants low on his waist, plus a plain black shirt tight in places still damp from his shower. Amara often comments about men dressed in sweatpants making everything more obvious…and now, I get it. I fucking do, because he looks?—
I break my stare, returning to my show, my phone, anything but him, to avoid eye-stalking him to his room, where he tosses his dirty clothes. As if seeing him pass the first time wasn’t bad enough, he does it a second time, to reclaim his seat on the opposite end of the couch.
We don’t talk, and once my show finishes, I gather my phone and escape to my room with a muttered, “I’m showering too.”
Inside the bathroom, I trynotto picture the person last in here. My shower is quick, and soon, I’m passing Lev without looking his way—especially since I’m a moron who forgot clothes. I’m now only wrapped in a towel, my hair a wet clump down my back.
“Night. Class is at nine tomorrow. Leaving around eight-thirty.”
“Sounds good.”
My bedroom door shuts, letting me breathe for the first time since Lev exited the bathroom. Everything after that’s been half-functioning lungs and a head trying to stay straight.
After drying off and dressing, I slip into bed as my phone vibrates.
<3
Sleep well. Have fun tomorrow. You’ll have to let me know how your first day goes.
Me
For sure. Maybe in person?
<3
