Sam’s Flat
This wasn’t how Sam envisioned her return to London...
Not with Levi Jackson, sprawled naked under the rich white sheets beside her on a Monday morning.
The last of her Rule had just been broken; she realized as she lay wide awake with him still lightly snoring beside her.
......
A week ago
Rules, you ask? Sam always had her own unwritten personal rules on her so-called ’sexcapades.’ She always treated it as a business transaction.
The first rule that went out of the window was Rule 2: They work on schedule.
Before Levi, she usually made ’transactions’ after her last workday of the week. They had agreed on Saturdays, but Levi had other things in mind. He had taken her hand and pulled her to his bedroom first Tuesday after their return from Annecy the second she stepped a foot in his flat.
"What about Mrs. Whitehall?" She asked, following after him. "it’s a Tuesday." The Irishman replied, shutting his bedroom door close behind them. She understood what he ant; Tuesdays were Mrs. Whitehall’s so-called "book club," or as Levi calls it, an excuse for her to drink wine with the girls. She was usually out the whole night like her husband who ets up with his friends in a local pub to watch football and only to return ho around midnight.
......
Two weeks ago
The next to go was Rule 1. She doesn’t stay the night, and most importantly, she doesn’t stay for breakfast. This rule was broken just two weeks after their return from Annecy. He had arched a brow at her when she refused to stay the night during a late ’Ga Night’ that turned into them, well, playing a different sort of ga.
This so-called ’rule’ she had applied on herself he found impractical; she was obviously tired from work and sex--yet, she’d instead take the commute to go ho and sleep when she had slept over nurous tis before in his place before they started having sexual relations.
She could have the spare room if she wanted to, his bed, or the couch---her choice. And her choice was idiotic.
Illogical, he thought.
He even told her one evening that she was welco to stay, sothing that even he found a waste of his ti since they both clearly knew that. She had always been welco to stay; he had subconsciously hinted on that even before he realized his own feelings. The signs he missed for years, like stocking his fridge with the food she liked, even reorganizing his kitchen lab so that she would stay and experint with him. He even stopped smoking cause she didn’t like it, sothing he used to do to relieve his stress. All of it, everyone saw before, but them.
The slicked blond had asked her about it, and she simply replied that she wasn’t comfortable sleeping over. Discerning it as her attempt to ’compartntalize’ and place him in a box like she did to the n she had ’associated’ herself with before, he made it his personal mission to ’sex her out’ so much she passed out of exhaustion and slept in his place.
Leading to her waking up in his bedroom the next day, she knew she was already late for work; worse was she could faintly hear the old woman totter around outside. Probably tidying up the slicked blond’s flat while talking absent-mindedly like usual to herself.
Usually, Sam wouldn’t care that she slept over Levi’s, but those tis were innocent ’passed out on the couch’ scenarios. Not sothing that could dically be diagnosed as ’fatigue secondary to prolonged coitus.’
This was his fault; Sam thought as she glared half-heartedly at the blond’s sleeping face.
Partly hers, cause she ’enabled’ him. She should have thought it all carefully--before she folded when he blatantly seduced her after the Ball.
His tempting baritone saying, "We’re far from normal," still echoed in her mind, but she couldn’t help agree to that. They were not normal. She reckoned they never were.
He had a history of gambling addiction and was still dealing with it occasionally. He helps solve cris as a substitution for the rush of it. He was an addict. Now she had introduced to him another form of addiction. Sex.
Sam sighed, and Levi stirred from his slumber. The slicked blond broke into a boyish smile when his eyes landed on her, making Sam’s cheek redden. He was annoyingly good looking, and she can’t believe before all these, she only saw him as a friend and not a man. "Maidin mhaith," he greeted in Irish, crawling towards her, kissing her cheek, and getting off the bed. The Irishman picked up his shirt on the floor and put it on. "Mrs. Whitehall’s cooking breakfast," he said, after sniffing the air. She knew it too. "Co out and join when you’re ready." he invited before stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Sam slowly climbed off the bed, picking up her clothes on the floor, and put it on before stepping out of the bedroom. "Good morning." She greeted the older woman who was serving Levi breakfast.
Mrs. Whitehall smiled at the sight of the redhead; she knew the pathologist stayed over the night before, based on her jacket still hanging on the rack. "Good morning dear, eat up." She said, gesturing to the plate opposite to the Irishman. "Thank you", Sam replied, and the older woman tottered back to her flat, smiling.
Sam grabbed the fork, brows furrowed as her eyes remained on the flabby woman’s retreating back. "That was weird", she comnted. Usually, Mrs. Whitehall made comnts that made her uncomfortable before. But she didn’t make any that day.
Levi flipped the newspaper in his hand to the next page, reading.
"Thin walls", he replied casually, causing Sam’s green eyes to widen and her cheeks to redden in surprise and embarrassnt. "She knows?" she asked in a whisper as she leaned forward, concerned that soone might hear.
The Irishman chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Fear not, nobody will believe her", he said, knowing they both dont want the cat to get out of the bag yet.
Sam arched a brow at him, "And you’re so sure about this because?" she challenged.
Levi rolled his hazel eyes at her, "Nobody cares. It’s old news. She’s been gossiping about it for years." he said.
Sam’s jaw dropped; she wasn’t aware that gossips like that existed about them." So basically we slept together even before it actually happened?" she asked.
"Yup", Levi replied, unaffected. The usual. Nothing really changed, except for the fact that ’boredom’ no longer existed between them, even when there’s no case to solve. There is always sothing to do...or soone.
.....
Last Night, Sam’s flat
The next one to be tossed out was Rule 3. She doesn’t bring sex at ho.
This was one of her MAJOR rules, and as previously stated, this was the rule that was recently broken. She doesn’t have sex at ho; it was part of her compartntalization.
To put it in plain words, Levi ca over for ’tea’ ---and he didn’t co ho.
Levi knocked on her door that evening, which was unlike him. Sam opened the door wearing a bathrobe. She just got off the bath and was plating the pasta she had ordered. She cocked him a curious brow, "have you lost your key?" She asked, wondering why he bothered to knock. It was out of character. Usually, he would just barge in uninvited. "Yup." He lied through his teeth and did not even make an effort to be convincing, walking in even though she hadn’t invited him.
"Can I help you?" Sam asked, following him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a distilled water bottle and drank it.
"Do you need anything?" She rephrased, again when he didn’t respond, instead started eating the pasta on her plate. It was Sunday, and she had her day off--she was planning on just staying in and watching crap telly while eating and drinking wine.
Sam furrowed her brows, confused, "Would you like so tea?" she asked, still baffled. Offering tea was the British way to handle anything.
The Irishman turned to her, enthused. "Tea would be lovely.’" he replied, grinning.
Sam shrugged, ’Okay...’ she thought, ready to make so. She approached the water heater reaching to turn it on to boil so water when she was suddenly taken by surprise when he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him with ease, then kissed her. She lted to the kiss, noting he was unravelling the bathrobe she was wearing, and his hand was now travelling down her waist and hips, earnestly, pressing her body against his.
"Do you still want that tea?" Sam asked, second-guessing the tea when they parted to breathe. The corner of his lips curled upwards, looking back at her with mischief in his hazel eyes. "After." He responded, pulling her to her bedroom by her hand. "Oh--kay", Sam muttered, abandoning the TV that was still on, while he kicked her bedroom door closed.
Sam stared at Levi’s face, sleeping soundly, and she couldn’t help but smile. A hand made its way towards his head, fingers lovingly brushing through his blond mane. She frowned, suddenly realizing it was her hand doing it.
’I’m screwed,’ she ntally told herself, pulling her hand away, thinking.
Things indeed suddenly beca complicated, she thought.
She was in love with him...and only then did she realize it.
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