Levi gave her a small, grateful smile, her words settling something deep in him. For a while, they just sat there, holding hands, the room wrapped in a quiet that felt more like healing than silence.
Then, he glanced at her sideways, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.
"You know what we need?" he asked, a spark returning to his eyes.
"What?" she replied, wiping the corner of her eye, curious.
"A night out. Music, lights, laughter—something wild and spontaneous. Something that isn't about expectations or pressure. Just us."
Havana raised a brow. "A bar? A club? On a weekday?"
"Why not?" Levi shrugged, nudging her gently. "You said earlier you missed out on all the fun in school. Well, the night's still young, and your official 'catch-up tour' has just begun."
She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're really not going to let that go, are you?"
"Nope," he said confidently. "Tonight, we dance. We laugh. We forget about lectures, titles, and controlling pharmacists."
Havana looked at him, the playful glint in his eyes impossible to resist.
"Alright, Mr. Tour Guide," she said, standing up and stretching. "But if I end up embarrassing myself on the dance floor, I'm blaming you."
"Deal," Levi grinned, jumping to his feet. "Now go get dressed. I've got a playlist for pre-game, and I'm not afraid to use it."
Laughter echoed through the apartment as Havana disappeared into the bedroom to get ready—her heart lighter, her evening brighter, and something inside her finally learning to let go.
The music pulsed through the club like a living thing—bass heavy, lights flashing in blues and reds, bodies moving in rhythm. Levi and Havana had danced until they were breathless, their laughter lost in the crowd, their drinks just enough to loosen edges but not blur intentions.
Havana's cheeks were flushed, her hair slightly tousled, and Levi couldn't stop smiling at the sight of her so carefree. She leaned in close, speaking into his ear over the music.
"It's getting too loud," she said, her voice warm and playful. "Let's go somewhere quieter."
Levi didn't need convincing. He nodded, took her hand, and guided her through the moving crowd, out past the bar, and into the cool night air.
They walked a short distance to a rooftop lounge just a block away—a quieter spot Levi had found earlier on his phone in case they needed a breather. The entrance was tucked between two buildings, almost hidden, but once inside, it opened up into a dimly lit terrace overlooking the city.
There were only a few other people there, low conversations drifting beneath soft jazz playing from overhead speakers. Havana sank into one of the couches by the railing, kicking off her heels with a sigh of relief.
"Better," she said, tilting her head back and closing her eyes for a moment.
"Much," Levi agreed, sitting beside her and offering her his jacket.
She accepted it with a small smile, draping it over her shoulders.
For a while, they just sat there, watching the city lights shimmer below them. Havana leaned into him, her voice softer now.
"You were right… I did need this."
Levi looked at her, the way the glow hit her face, the vulnerability behind her usual control.
There was a pause.
"Thank you," she whispered, eyes locked on his now.
He leaned in closer, slowly—his face mere inches from hers. "You don't have to thank me," he murmured. "Just… let me do this."
He gave her every chance to pull away. But she didn't.
Their lips met gently at first—a soft, searching kiss, like two pages of a story finally meeting in the middle. Her hand found his chest, holding him there, grounding the moment. And when the kiss deepened, it wasn't rushed. It was warm, deliberate—full of all the things neither of them had dared to say.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other's, breath mingling in the cool air.
"I've wanted to do that since the morning," he said with a grin.
After the kiss, they sat in silence for a while longer, the kind of silence that said everything. The air between them had changed—warmer, heavier with unspoken things. When Havana finally looked at him again, there was a softness in her eyes, but also something deeper… something unmistakably wanting.
Levi gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Let's go," he said, his voice quiet, but firm.
She nodded once, without hesitation.
They left the rooftop lounge hand-in-hand, the city still alive around them, but to them, the world had narrowed to just the two of them. The cab ride was quiet—her head on his shoulder, his hand resting over hers, thumbs gently moving in rhythm.
When they got back to the apartment, Havana unlocked the door, then paused, looking over her shoulder at him. That look was all it took.
The moment the door closed behind them, Levi reached for her again—not hurried or careless, but with a certainty that came from everything they'd been holding back. Their lips met again, hungrier this time, filled with everything they'd left unsaid. Her fingers clutched the collar of his shirt. His hands rested at her waist, guiding her back gently, step by step, until they reached the bedroom.
Clothes gave way to skin, laughter to soft gasps, Stripped of everything, they were left with only warmth and a connection—honest and raw.
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