"That moment," she told Cath, "when you realize that a guy's looking at you differently—that you're taking up more space in his field of vision. That moment when you know he can't see past you anymore" (Rowell 36).
I was laying down practically on top of Levi. My arm was wrapped around his waist, the other encompassing my phone. My head lay on top of his hollow chest. His shirt smelt of gingerbread lattes and espresso shots.
His chin was locked onto my shoulder, cuddled in my neck. We were slumped on his bed, forming an impressionable dent after the hours without shifting or relocating. We made it to chapter three of one of my old stories (Levi was trying to get as caught up as possible on all the MagiCath works).
My voice had gone sore and I could tell Levi was in need of a pee break. So I stopped mid-sentence. As I turned around, I saw it. Levi wasn't looking off with a dazed expression like he usually did when I read to him. Instead, all his focus had been on me. He looked at me like I was the only object in the room. Nothing else mattered but me.
It was the look Wren mentioned. The look Abel never gave me. I never understood what she meant. I don't think there had ever been a distinct change that I saw with Abel. Everything Wren described just sounded like a Simon and Baz moment, not reality. So that was exactly how I took it. The quote became Simon's and I never really thought about it again.
Until now.
Wren had been right and Abel had been nothing more than an end table. He was all that I had known. Steady. Safe. Predictable.
When I look at Levi, I see passion, love, and clarity. I had a three-year boyfriend and up until now I never really understood love.
I've written enough romance that you'd think I'd have a handle on all of this. Slight shifts in breath, lingering glances, brushing of hands, it was all too easy to write about. But to actually experience it? It made much more sense in fiction.
With Levi, everything was different. He made my heart flutter. He made me nervous. He made me want to be at my best when I was with him, because Levi deserved the best.
I had no problem writing kissing scenes or pure romance between Simon and Baz, because I know those characters inside and out. I had learned things from reading fanfiction and I could interpret how each character would respond. Real life wasn't so easy.
I didn't know if Levi would think I was enough. If he would grow bored of a virgin with no prior experience. I can't jump into his head like Simon and I can't say or do the perfect thing to complete a flawless scene. It was all a guessing game. A game I was sure I would eventually lose. He made me so anxious because I just wanted to do everything right. I've never cared for anyone like I care for Levi.
When I pictured myself marrying someone in the future, I never imagined an overly friendly, Starbucks barista who was majoring in Range Management. I pictured someone a bit more shy and awkward than me, which was saying a lot. Someone that would never make me feel like I was weird. Someone that would make me feel safe.
With Levi, it was a different type of secure. He was always there when I needed him to be. He was confident, but not judgmental. He would listen to my thoughts and ideas without finding them bizarre or crazy. The more quirks he discovered, the cuter I became in his eyes.
I never would have written the ending to my story like this. I never could have predicted how Cather fit so well with Levi. I would have written myself with an end table. I never would have understood Wren's quote.
But this look was enough. It was all I needed to feel assured. When Levi adjusted his blonde locks from his line of vision and moved his eyes to mine. His unwavering gleam. It was like I was the only person in the room. I was the only thing that mattered to him. And suddenly I know he can't see past me anymore.