“Eight fucking years…” I muttered to myself. Levi poured some wine and extended the glass to me. “Dear,” he said softly. “I truly did try.”

Yeah. He did. Me too. But it didn't work. An abstract God was stronger than us both. Maybe I should've lashed out more. I took the wine glass, and Levi poured himself his scotch.

“Eight fucking years for nothing… They didn't even fight enough, you know? God, god, god, sin, sin, sin, hell, hell, hell. It was… relentless. Listening to a fucking broken, loopy record of bullshit,” I said, the words spilling out.

“Ah, the divine broken record,” Levi said, taking a slow sip of his scotch. "It is quite a comfort for a lot of people, especially if they are born into a rather constricting life. They simply have no framework beyond that."

“Yeah. Exactly that. They have no idea about us, our lives… It’s like listening to an abstract debate, only that debate is about me. And they even blamed you for me being gay? Like, how does that even work? You put your dick in me, so I decided yeah, this is good shit, I am doing this from now on?” I asked, with a bitter laugh.

Levi leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "They require a tangible enemy. An abstract 'sin' is less satisfying than a physical person. You are the 'result,' I am the 'cause.' A rudimentary, yet effective, delusion for their purposes. It is simply desperate clinging to their predictable, boring, simplistic beliefs.”

“Yeah, you really nailed it. And to think I spent eight years wishing they'd break out of it. What an idiot I was.”

"They probably will not, but from what I discerned via the translating device, your father might attempt to initiate contact. My estimation, however, is merely as sound as your own, dear."

It would be the same loop, wouldn't it? Another attempt to 'save' me. Another 'broken record.' Still, the thought of Dad trying... it was a strange warmth, quickly doused by the cold reality of what he'd be 'reaching out' for. No. No hope. Not there. Not in that conversation.

“Levi, you know you called me an ‘imbecile’ in there, right, in your common enemy tactic? You gotta drink an energy drink for breaking the niceness rule. Also, why didn’t you give me any pointers? You raised your voice at me, Levi, I was quite… bewildered.”

“Hm… I had to act fast, dear. Accept my apologies for that display,” Levi said, his voice flat. "And, yes, I did breach the protocol, but at least grant me a moment of reprieve. Do not compel me to adulterate this perfectly adequate scotch with," his nose scrunched, "...energy drink."

“Okay, I'm giving you a reprieve because you looked cute while scrunching your nose. And… thanks. You did try a lot… with your common enemy thing. And you pulled that thing twice… Gods, how can I not see your bluffs?” I said and took a sip of my wine.

He shrugged. “I should have learned Cyrusian, dear, then you would observe the true bluff. It was rather… bizarre for that intense confrontation to process everything through my earpiece, then await the device's audible translation.”

Yeah, bizarre was an understatement. It made the whole confrontation like a poorly dubbed foreign film.

“I mean, at that point, I was kinda scared of both Dad and you, so I didn’t think much, but now? If I witnessed that again, I think I would laugh my ass off.”

“My dear, why would I ever raise my voice at you? You discern better than anyone that I would never resort to such animalistic behavior,” he said, a hint of offense in his tone.

“Fine, but next time you’re going to pull something like that, at least tell me. I really felt bad at that moment, you know?”

Levi turned his face to me, a small curve on his lips. “Accept my apologies, dear. My intention was indeed to shock both you and your parents. But, it did not work as completely as anticipated.”

I took a tentative sip of my drink.

“D-Do… do you see me… as your family, Levi?”

“Hm…” he mused. “Family, love, bond… these concepts are entirely foreign to my existence. They do not evoke sentimentality within me. But,” he said, and placed his warm hand on my cheek, gently turning my face to meet his unwavering gaze, “I assure you, my loyalty, my devotion to you, is just as strong. Perhaps, even more so.”

A small smile played on my lips. “You had to resort to an explanation, didn’t you? Not a simple yes or no, just a Levi-esque answer. But yeah, I know, and I love you. Lastly… This is kinda weird, but my dad literally called me a lamb. What are your thoughts on that matter?”

“Not a lamb, no. A lamb is inherently docile, prone to grazing and slaughter. You exhibit characteristics of greater agility and occasional defensive maneuvers. You are, with precise classification, a rabbit, my Pulla.”

Yeah, a rabbit. A very, very angry, resilient rabbit.

Stolen from NovelBin, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“And, how do you classify yourself? I call you a lion, but what are you in your own eyes?”

“I do not believe I possess a precise classification. An owl, perhaps?” he offered.

What the hell? Not a wolf, not a cat, not even a snake, which would have been far more fitting given his slyness. An owl. Silent, observant, predatory, yes, but also... wise? Did he see himself as wise?

“Owl is a… little nice for you, I think. You are definitely a smug feline, Levi. Like a panther, jaguar, or even a puma,” I said, a faint smile touching my lips.

He shrugged. “Surely, they are just as fitting. I do have some design notes regarding our primate-descended bodies to the divine architect. Are we not a little… bare? The animal kingdom is replete with tails, ears, colorful bodies, while we are merely left with these functional, yet not remotely attention-pulling forms,” he said, his gaze sweeping over his own body.

It was so quintessentially Levi, so utterly devoid of self-consciousness, that it was almost endearing.

“What are you even talking about, Levi? You are quite attention-pulling. I mean, I’ve never seen someone with dark blue eyes like yours. You are so attractive, do not play with me,” I said, a hint of genuine exasperation in my voice.

“Thank you for stroking my substantial ego, but my dear Pulla, you are quite attractive, too. It is obviously part of your face having comforting qualities—meaning, curved lips, a little downturned, but still almond-shaped eyes, thin but characteristic brows, and obviously your pale blonde hair, directly complimenting your equally rare ice-blue eyes. It was quite interesting to witness, as an Ascarian, to see Cyrusian people possessing such genetics.” he articulated, his tone analytical, yet with an unusual hint of… something akin to fascination.

“Wow… Was that you, flirting?” I asked, a little humor in my voice.

“Oh, no, flirting would evoke a certain deception. I was merely being objective,” he said, and leaned into my face, his gaze sharp. “And, about our wager, dear, are you finally ready to admit your defeat, or do I coax it out?”

“I am not in the mood for your agonizing teasing, nor… exactly in the headspace for straining sex, Levi,” I said, my voice tired.

“Hm… Pulla desires a gentle approach after emotional turbulence, very well,” he murmured, and then pressed his lips into mine. I felt the slight brush of his nose against my cheek, the subtle tension in his jawline. His warmth spread slowly from his hand on my cheek.

“Levi… I…” I breathed after breaking the kiss, my voice shaky. “I… don’t know what I want… for sure… I think I’m… confused.”

Levi placed his large hand on my back, pulling me closer. “Dear, why the torture of decision? Simply place your trust in your husband; he will most certainly make you forget all about it, at least for this night.”

"But... what if I don't want to forget?" I whispered. "What if... what if I want to figure this out?"

Levi's hand rubbed slow circles on my back. "That is also an option, my dear. I merely offered a temporary cessation of distress. We can certainly discuss, if that would provide more clarity. Or, as I previously suggested, we can simply... postpone the analysis until a later, less turbulent moment."

I rubbed my forehead on his shoulder, inhaling his subtle scent.

“My dear, are you… feeling sad?”

“N-No… Not… sad. Just a little conflicted. Not about this,” I clarified, gesturing vaguely between us, “but… about today.”

He spoke softly again. “I understand. We did not get what we desired, but it was not even offensive enough to sever the ties completely, was it?”

“Yeah… It was just… unsatisfying and anticlimactic, actually.”

Like the dust settling after a storm that never truly broke.

“My dear Raphael, your parents were not mustache-twirling villains, nor individuals driven by grand ambitions or secret agendas; they were unlike the people we have encountered in the last fourteen months. They certainly were not as overtly hostile as my family. So, indeed, it was not the volatile situation perhaps we both anticipated, and therefore your… disappointment, on both parts, is quite understandable,” he concluded, his hand still tracing comforting circles on my back.

The anticlimax was a real gut punch. I wanted a dramatic fight, a clear break, something that felt earned after eight years. Instead, it was just... sad. A fizzle.

“Yeah?” I echoed. “Not evil… just deeply uneducated?”

“Homophobia can be quite ‘evil’, I am not denying that. Imagine, if you will, you were not only gay, but also a trans individual?” Levi mused. “How would you even begin to explain that, let alone attempt to negotiate with transphobia, which is undeniably more hostile. Sometimes even the LGBTQIA+ communities harbor transphobic individuals within their ranks.”

“You always do this. Point out the bigger, scarier thing. And somehow, it does make my own problem feel smaller. It's messed up, but it works,” I said, pressing my forehead into his shoulder again. “It’s like… you know when you’re stuck on a mountain and they send those dogs with hot chocolate in their collars? Yours isn’t hot chocolate; it’s like burning, expensive, vintage cognac, but they both get the job done.” I paused, thinking for a second longer. “Wait, that was a dumb analogy, you’re addicted to sugar.”

"The human brain, when overwhelmed, often seeks a larger, less immediate threat to re-contextualize smaller, more personal ones. You are indefinitely more emotional, but I might offer a suggestion for when you are in profound distress: observe the vast, endless night sky. The moon, the stars, the celestial bodies are precisely where they always were, and always will be. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, there exists a brutal comfort in ‘tomorrow’. The sun will invariably rise tomorrow, even if this night was your darkest."

He wasn't telling me it would be okay, or that I wouldn't hurt. Just that the sun would rise.

He shifted slightly, a dry amusement coloring his tone. "And, comparing me to a canine, dear? I did not believe I would strike you as ‘obedient’."

“I mean, you are pretty obedient to me, and you are very loyal. That’s very canine of you,” I said, feeling the tension slowly leave my shoulders.

“Ah, now you are requesting empirical evidence of my feline qualities, dear?”

“No, no… The wager is still on, even though we did breach the 'hug rule'… Let’s just sleep tonight,” I said, my voice trailing off into a sigh.