What Happened to Levi Ackerman?
June 28th, Adalia May
Everyone's most feared Eldian has spent months in isolation after a speculated dispute amongst fellow war veterans. While a Scout reunion remains to be seen, Marley Today readers will be shocked by this photo of a custom, luxury car leaving Mercy Marley Medical Center. The photo was taken yesterday morning, but the rumors have been quick to spread.
"It was definitely [Ackerman]. He had that unmistakable scowl," says an anonymous source at MMMC. "Can't say I know what he was in for. But who's to say he was even the victim? Wouldn't be surprised if he was the one putting people in the hospital." When asked to comment, orthopedic specialist Doctor Fauna says, "I cannot confirm anything. It's against our privacy policy to disclose who has or hasn't been admitted."
"My concern is what does this mean for Ackerman Enterprises?" says Steve Bark, long-time investor of AE. "How will this sickness affect his ability to run the company?" Stocks are already teetering in the uncertainty. Marley Today will keep you posted.
Ackerman Enterprises Addresses Rampant Rumors
June 29th, Stacy Burns, BBA
Ackerman Enterprises spokesperson, Ingrid Mattes, confirms, "That was indeed Levi Ackerman's car. He broke his leg. He will be out of commission for six weeks while he is non-weight bearing, but he has said himself on numerous occasions that he could run the company with his hands tied behind his back." Considering this is the same, ruthless man who slayed a hundred Titans in one day, we believe it!
"It won't affect anything," Ackerman Enterprises COO, Yelena Erastis, insists. "He has 24/7 support—doctor's orders. At this time, we ask for privacy and discretion." Erastis has also emphasized that there will be no Scout reunion, despite the budding rumors. She says, "The very notion of this rumor is insensitive. Please stop pestering the issue."
AE stocks have restabilized. For now. Who's to say what the future holds with that Titan slayer at the helm?
First the over-the-top cat tower for an already spoiled Jean, and now this? Karma felt guilty enough Levi had to clear out a storage room on her behalf, but did she need a king-sized bed drowning in goosefeather pillows? Or a closet stuffed with NM brand silk blouses and sequin dresses? The regal vanity was stocked with high-end makeup and floral perfume as if he simply dumped the entire summer catalog into an online shopping cart.
The mahogany double doors opened and Karma hesitated into the library with her shoulders hunkered inward. Her spine shot upright when Levi closed the Marley Today in his hands, giving her his full attention. He was always dressed so well. A cravat and waistcoat with crisscrossing wing cufflinks. Did he really expect her to wear those clothes in the closet? To match his level of sophistication?
"What?" Levi said.
Under the scrutiny of those pale eyes, magnified behind reading glasses, Karma fiddled with her shirt hem. She looked plain in a white blouse and black slacks. Convenience store mascara. Pink stick-on nails. "This may be a little untoward."
"Then keep it to yourself."
"I tried, but we need to talk about this if I'm gonna be staying here."
"I'm sure we can avoid any conversation for the next six weeks."
"No. We can't."
Levi pressed his lips, permitting her to continue though his shoulders broadened with an impatient inhale. Karma stared at the spinning leaves of the oriental rug before speaking.
"I can't stay in that room."
Levi folded his glasses. "What's wrong with it?"
"The bed is way too comfortable and I'll never wear all of those clothes."
He reeled back into the leather seat with a glare as if she was wasting his time. "Are you trying to be funny?"
"I'm trying to tell you that I'm just a caretaker. I don't need all of this nice stuff. Especially since I don't do anything—even with two useless legs you find ways to avoid needing me."
"So you'd like me to need you more?"
Karma's face warmed. "That's not… I just meant I don't want any more nice stuff. It makes me feel guilty."
"I see." Levi reached toward the end table and straightened a tea cup. The gesture was meant to occupy his gaze away from her. She watched his lips move as he finally spoke. "I know the feeling."
Karma waited.
"It'd be a hassle to return it all. I could put you to work if that'd make you feel better."
Karma smiled down at her fingers. "I'd hate for you to start resenting me. I actually had another idea in mind."
He raised a brow.
"Donate it all. That'd look good for your company, right?" she said.
"When did you become an expert in commerce?"
"I'm just saying. You read the news, you know what they say about you."
His lip quirked. "What do they say about me?"
Karma was reluctant to give voice to untrue rumors, and he was amused to see her fluster. "They say you're cold and heartless. Monstrous, frightening—do you really need me to fill you in?"
"No, I'm aware." Levi took a sip from his steaming cup. It clinked back on the saucer. "People will call the island-devil-war-vet whatever suits them. Donating a closet of clothes won't make a difference."
"But you've never even tried. You just sit around on mountains of cash."
"I sit in a wheelchair. It's called assets."
"So you agree you're being an ass?"
His lip wrinkled, more of a smile than he intended to give. "Fine." He relinquished another fraction. "I'll make a donation if it gets you off my ass."
"Great. You can start with those clothes."
"No, those were a gift. The correct response is 'thank you.'"
Karma tilted her head, inciting a challenge. "You're a lot nicer to me on pain meds."
Levi's light chuckle surprised Karma, who was still trying to hold her chin up. It was a softer version of his hospital laugh.
"I thought I was being plenty nice when I agreed to let you bring that cat," Levi said, smirking into another sip.
"That cat has a name—Jean."
Levi choked on his tea. Karma liked cracking that stoney exterior and making him laugh, but she didn't enjoy this laugh as much. It felt like it was directed at her. Her cheeks prickled with blush.
"What's so funny about that?"
"Nothing." Levi cleared his throat with one final cough-laugh. "It's just a better name for a horse." Another inside joke. Karma twisted her lips, wondering if she'd ever understand it.
"So are we agreed on the whole charity thing? You'll donate those obnoxious clothes?"
"I'll donate something, but I can't promise you'll like what it is."
"Good." Karma paused, struck by an afterthought. "The cat's off limits. Don't donate him."
"Wouldn't be charity if it wasn't a sacrifice."
Breathe.
Granny Angie always said three seconds in, four seconds out. Karma closed her eyes. Her cotton pajamas were soaked through. One measured breath. Two. Her heart dampened from a hammer on her sternum to a rubber mallet.
"Sorry, Jean." She gave the fussing cat a damp peck. Her feet sunk to the floor. "C'mon. Snack time." She closed the bedroom door with precision since Levi's room was down the corridor.
Just outside the kitchen, she froze, Jean at her ankles. There was a dark shape across the counter, crooked and hunched. The left-behind woman. No, that wasn't possible. It had to be a coat hanger or a chair, but it was moving—Karma's heart spasmed but she managed to hit the light switch—
"God, Levi. My heart stopped."
Levi didn't acknowledge her. He flicked the switch on the tea kettle and it glowed blue. Karma noted the sheen on the back of his neck. Eye bags. Unkempt hair. Of course he had nightmares too. She could only imagine the kind a war vet would have, but she didn't want to think about her own. The red faces. The far-away train. The woman.
Karma bent to grab Jean, but he had curled himself on Levi's lap.
"Sorry," she barely managed to say it with a straight face. "He doesn't respect boundaries."
Levi was stiff. "Can't imagine where he gets that from."
"If you promise not to sell him, you could borrow him for the night." Karma dumped noodles into a bowl and closed the fridge with her hip, adding, "He's a good sleeping buddy."
"Thanks." Levi patted Jean like he was testing a hot stove. He checked his palm for fur needles, pleased to come away clean. "But I prefer to sleep alone."
They sat in mutual silence, Karma poking through noodles at the bartop. Levi settling the kettle on the island. A pendant light dangled between them. Everytime she was with Levi, questions flooded her mind like a stream of bubbles. Questions about the war. His friends. It never felt appropriate to ask, but Karma couldn't help her curiosity.
Toss it.
"Sorry I took the last of the leftovers. Did you want some?" She finally said, offering her bowl.
"I'm not hungry tonight."
"Right." She twirled her fork around a noodle that was too short to loop the prongs. The fork spun and spun without latching.
"What's wrong?" Levi must have noticed her scrunched up face. The expression she always wore when concentrating. Karma stopped spinning the fork.
"I want to know more about you," she said.
"Why?"
"Because you're—" Fascinating. Distant. "Friends with my cat."
"That fast?"
"He's really clingy. Granny Angie found him as a stray. Pretty sure he gets nightmares too—I mean, how could you survive The Rumbling and not be fucked up?"
"Hm." Levi scrunched Jean's ears, noting the jagged rim. He found the stiff patch of fur on Jean's shoulder. The missing claw. "We've got more in common than I thought."
"The Rumbling?"
"Being a stray."
"What do you mean?"
Levi kept his eyes fixed on a crimped whisker. "I'm from the Underground."
Karma tilted her head, a mixture of inquiry and sympathy.
Levi peered into his tea. "It's a floor beneath hell."
Hell. The word burned into her. Could she even begin to understand, as someone who has only known sunlight? Karma poked through her cold noodles. "I'm lucky."
"Why's that?"
"I wasn't underground, I lived off the land."
"What, like a farm?"
"Sort of. We had chickens and a goat. At the time, I hated it. I thought we were so poor because our eggs were brown—I just wanted white eggs from a market. I wanted cow's milk." Karma lulled her chin into her palm. "Now I realize how bratty that was. I had such a good childhood."
"Our eggs were brown too, whenever we'd get 'em. I used to scrub them until they cracked before I realized they weren't dirty," Levi said.
"I soaked them in dishwater."
Levi returned half of her smile. He glanced down at the sleeping cat curled against him. "I can tell he doesn't skip midnight snacks. I've got milk." He smirked. "Cow's milk."
"No, just let him sleep. He can afford to miss a meal." Karma found a spot for her empty bowl in the dishwasher then scooped Jean off of Levi's lap. The cat nuzzled into her neck, fast asleep. "I better head back. Should I expect another heart attack tomorrow night?"
"You should. And probably in the morning too."
Had Karma known what he meant, she would've never fallen back asleep.
Beep. Beep.
Her bleary eyes slit open, ears still clogged by far-away explosions and screams. But those persistent beeps cut through. They were coming from outside the window. Stiff fingers peeled back the curtain; a big hunk of furniture was wrapped in moving blankets and dangling on the end of a crane, fifty stories above New Marley. Karma scrubbed the crust from her eyes and strained to make sense of it.
Beep. Beep.
Her bedroom door flung open. Gusts of hot wind parachuted the quilt off her shoulders and swatted the bedsheets like a boulder dropping in a puddle.
"What the hell?"
The vigorous wind slamming her eardrums came from four open panels of floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The canvas painting of crashing waves splashed and rippled. Potted plants hurled leaves and a crystal vase hurled itself, but her attention was immediately snatched elsewhere.
"Holy shit, Levi!"
His wheelchair was perched at the edge of the open windows like he was dipping his toes in New Marley. His clothes and hair beat against his body like he was already falling. The Marley Today in his hands sounded like radio static. Karma didn't imagine he could read a single word.
Jean meandered into view, unaffected by the fists of wind, clearly aiming for his new favorite lap. Karma burst forward and yanked the wheelchair by the handles until she tumbled backwards onto the coffee table.
"What's going on?" she shouted, clenching her swatting hair to keep it from tangling in her eyelashes.
In answer, Levi passed her the Marley Today, flapping like a live chicken. She hunched over the pages to block the wind.
Ackerman Has a Heart
June 30th, Stacy Burns, BBA
The Big Bad Boss at Ackerman Enterprises has made a sizable donation for the Helping Hearts Charity Auction. Rachel McBride from Helping Hearts Executive Distribution says, "We are just thrilled! This [redacted] survived The Rumbling. It's worth a pretty penny. Ackerman's selflessness will change lives." Yosemite Evans, Upper Level Management at AE, says, "We never expected [Ackerman] to do something so selfless. Who knew he had it in him?"
What is this big ticket mystery item? Only auction attendees will find out—tickets are on sale now!
It didn't take Karma long to figure out what the "big ticket" mystery item was. Her eyes flickered between the crane outside and the empty space in the living room. "The piano?!"
Dark hair pelted Levi's smirking cheeks. "You wanted me to make a donation. I made a donation. Aren't you happy?"
Karma's lip twitched, a small movement compared to her billowing pajamas and the live chicken in her grip. "You thought donating the piano would make me happy?"
"You couldn't stand watching it collect dust."
"You'd never let it collect dust."
"You know what I mean," Levi said. "Now it's out of your sight for good. You can stop being bothered by it." He adjusted his cufflinks as if the whole situation were mundane. Then he turned to leave the room with Jean on his lap, the wind pushing him out of her sight.
Karma stared after him. The piano dangled in her peripheral like a carrot on a string. Her thoughts rattled with the wind like the newspaper that had slipped her grip. Was this some kind of sick joke? They shared food at the hospital. He'd told her about the Underground. Just as it seemed they were teetering on the verge of friendship, Levi cut the rope.
Was he just exerting his power? He'd certainly reminded her of her inferiority. If she stepped out of line, he could revoke her tuition to the MSA as easily as he slammed the key cover and cast away the piano. Maybe he was hoping she'd quit. What was keeping her here anyway? The dangling promise of music school?
Beep. Beep.
Karma watched the crane lower her dreams all the way to the ground floor. She watched the men in blue uniforms stuff her dreams in a moving truck. She watched the truck disappear down Marble Street.
Aren't you happy?
1:02am.
Karma gasped. Her pajamas clung to her damp body like the hair splayed on her neck. She could still feel the woman's eyes.
Was a midnight snack worth the risk of facing Levi? Luckily, since he was just as determined as before the accident to maintain his independence, she had successfully avoided him the whole day. The thought of facing him after his "donation" made her ears hot. The piano was never hers to begin with, and she'd hardly played, but its absence was palpable. Like the new wind-blown hole tearing through the oil painting of the ocean.
She stared at the blinking digital clock, trying to ignore Jean who was pawing her arm like a dangling tassel. Karma kicked free of the sheets.
"Fine."
She'd managed to piece the living room back together after the mini tornado, though a lot of broken decor had to be tossed. Without the piano's silhouette, the floor-to-ceiling windows were wholly unobstructed. A city of black and glimmering gold. Proud scepters for buildings, colorful jewels for billboards. Illuminated windows dispersed in the pattern of ermine fur. The bubble light chandelier above her reflected back New Marley in curved strips. Jean's eyes glinted. Karma felt like she was walking through the sky.
To think her dreams obstructed such beauty.
Levi was already in the kitchen. The light was on. He glanced up when she walked in, but neither of them spoke. Tiny bubbles fizzled in the blue-light tea kettle. Oblivious to the tension, Jean hopped onto Levi's lap again. Traitor.
Karma scoured the fridge and settled on a handful of steak fries, but the microwave was by Levi so she decided to eat them cold, hip pressed against the counter, back to the tea kettle.
"If I knew you were gonna be this pissy about it, I wouldn't have donated the thing," Levi said from behind her. Karma kept herself from responding with another cold, mushy bite. "I'm sorry."
She inched her face toward him, just enough for the corner of her eye to cut him a glare. "No you're not."
"I figured that's what you'd want me to say."
"I want you to mean it." Karma scrunched her lips, making up her mind. "You can keep Jean for the night." She left the kitchen and flopped on top of her bed sheets, slamming her eyes shut, hoping that the harder she closed them, the faster she would drift away from it all.
One successful day of avoiding Levi turned into many. Her first week of six was over and she'd only briefly passed him in the hall on her way to retrieve a snack from the kitchen. She stocked up on novels and finger foods and kept to her room most of the time, leaving the door ajar for Jean to come and go. She assumed Levi was in the library. Two full walls and a hallway of space between them.
Levi's cast was scheduled to be removed August 9th. If she managed to last until then, maybe Yelena wouldn't revoke her tuition. That thought was the only thing keeping her from going stir crazy.
Her digital clock blinked 8:17pm when the knock on her door came.
"What?" Karma said, trying to mimic the constant aggravation of his tone. She wasn't above such pettiness.
"Thought you'd appreciate a hot meal," came the voice on the other side of the door.
Karma hadn't eaten a real meal in two days. Plastic sleeves of crackers and boxes of Crazy Flakes littered her nightstand. Karma chewed on her tongue, imagining she was biting into something hot on a fork.
"Please, Karma."
"Come in."
Levi nudged the wheelchair inside with one hand and balanced an assortment of goodies with the other. A bowl of milk on one leg, a plate of steaming spaghetti on the other, a cup of tea in the crook of his elbow, and a cookie between his fingertips. Karma imagined the hassle of one-arm wheeling everything from the kitchen. She softened the glare she had been waiting to give him.
"Didn't think you'd last this long on nothing but crackers. You're more stubborn than I gave you credit for," Levi said, organizing his peace offering at the foot of her bed. He set the milk on the ground for Jean.
"Fending for myself isn't exactly a new thing."
"As a fellow scavenger, I'm sure you can appreciate a hot meal."
"I can. Thank you," Karma said. She nibbled on the cookie and watched Jean lap the milk.
"Did you ever hear back about Wicked Moron's program?"
"Wickham—" She stopped herself when she caught Levi's smirk. She hated how handsome it made him look. "I got in. And I have an audition tomorrow to be his opener." Auditions were open to the public. She'd invited everyone she'd talked to, but even after tea and spaghetti she refused to invite Levi. Not that he'd even show up.
Levi pulled a metallic card from his pockets. He extended it toward her between two fingers. "Get yourself something nice to wear. On me."
Karma scoffed. A sprinkle of crumbs spewed from her lips and ricocheted off the card. "I'd rather play naked than wear your money."
The hand holding the card sank an inch.
Karma re-swallowed a stubborn chunk of cookie.
Levi took a long sigh and tucked the card back into his wallet. "It was really that important to you." Karma stayed quiet while Levi pretended to struggle with fitting the card in the slot. Her eyes sunk to the fork on her plate.
"It wasn't mine to begin with."
"That's not true." Levi's scarred lip pressed into a firm line. He gripped the wheels and turned back toward the door. "I'll leave you to it then. Break a leg."
Break a leg.
Moriano Hall was intimidating with its sweeping ceilings and rows of velvet seats. Backstage, her fellow competitors were focused on the impressive melodies streaming under the spotlight, but Karma was estranged from the cluster like a weed amongst daisies. She scanned the silhouettes of perfume-dusted and nose-hair-trimmed New Marleyans for the dozenth time. The crowd applauded, their black hands like crow wings.
"Mitchell Clearweather." The voice was far away like her ears were underwater.
A peripheral figure broke off from the cluster and took the stage. Karma rubbed her damp hands on the red sequin dress covering her thighs, eyes still scouring for that pouted lip or tuft of cravat. But there was nothing.
Did she really expect him to return to the public eye after eight months of isolation for his caretaker? She hadn't even invited him. Karma tried to be content with the support she did have. Sage was smiling in the front row with her new boytoy, Jack. Apparently it was "love at first sight" after Jack showed up at Vinny's with some designer NM bags.
"Karma Adornato."
Wickham Moriano's voice was the pull of a lasso. Karma tore her eyes from the crowd and looked at the concert grand under the spotlight. She imagined it dangling on a crane, fifty floors above New Marley. The image almost made her laugh. How ridiculous—why did she think he'd ever come to support her? He'd donated her dreams away.
Karma, I like you. The pain meds were a better friend.
Each syllable of her name in Wickham's breath pulled her closer to the spotlight. Wickham Moriano. That's who she should be focused on now. Karma took a deep bow under a shower of applause and settled on the bench. Despite herself, she cast one final, resigned glance to the crowd.
This time, something was there.
Squinting through the pounding stage lights and into the darkness was like trying to focus on a bird passing through the sun. But this was far more subtle. In the back by the exit doors was the gleam of a wheelchair spoke.
"Whenever you're ready."
Your music reminded me of my friends.
Karma didn't try to understand why he'd come—that was sure to mess up her concentration. She'd confront him herself once this was over. Karma turned back to the newspaper colored keys and rolled her shoulders. In a single chord, she tumbled back into that faraway train.
It was musty, a sauna of hay and sweat. The hollow eyes of that left-behind woman followed her. The eyes shrunk as the train chugged on, but they never went away. Have never gone away.
The train was quiet except for whispered prayers. Karma's own were tangled in thick saliva. Gran. Mom. Dad. Every jostle of the train was a red footstep. Bone. Dust. Blood.
The airships abandoned Marley to fight the creatures on the horizon. A marionette of domed ribs. Tendrils of black hair. Eyes like goblin scales. Clouds of flames against red rock. Explosion sounds delayed by distance.
But the red feet wouldn't stop. The earth wouldn't still. Hope evaporated like the sheen on her neck. It was over.
It was over.
The audience clung to every echo of that somber chord like it was the edge of a crumbling cliff. Karma raised her hands from the keys, but there was no applause. How could they clap when their hands were straining for survival? It was silent. A graveyard.
They're dead.
The bench grated against the stage floor, the screech echoing off the walls like microphone feedback. Karma bowed, but it felt like she actually had played naked. The eyes from the crowd were intense, scraping the exposed surfaces of her skin and following her like guards with pointed spears off the stage.
"Thank you for your, uh, attendance this evening. That concludes our show."
The spotlight clunked off.
Sage met Karma off stage with a cone-wrapped rose. The crowd departed around them, their footsteps louder than their voices.
"Where is he?" Karma said, poking her head around Sage to find his wheelchair in the mess of tuxedos and silk gloves.
"Jack left. Why? What's wrong?" Sage whipped her head to follow Karma's line of sight. Karma closed her sparkling eyelids and bent to smell the rose. She murmured into the heady scent that it was nothing.
"Miss Karma?"
That voice. Karma's eyes snapped open like it was already time for her regularly-scheduled midnight snack. In front of her, Sage repeatedly mouthed "Oh my god," confirming that it was her idol standing behind her.
Karma's body creaked to face him like a busted hinge. "Mr. Moriano." Her rusted elbow joints grated as she extended a handshake.
"I'm pleased to see you aren't in a hurry to leave this time. I was hoping to have a word?"
Karma's chest fluttered at the invitation. She'd been hoping to speak to Levi, but she was still angry at him and he'd be waiting at home. There was no rush.
"Of course."
"I'll excuse myself," Sage said. She kissed Karma's cheek and pressed something plastic and small into her palm, whispering, "Good luck." Karma glanced at it and her whole body went ablaze. A condom.
Sage, you jerk.
Karma quickly tucked the square of plastic into her bra, trying to make it seem like she was only readjusting the plunging neckline. Wickham didn't seem to notice.
"Your song was exquisite," he said. Karma let herself admire the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. They trickled to his caramel cheeks in a dusting of freckles. His dimples carved the outline of a dazzling smile projecting onto her like a spotlight. "You stunned the audience into silence. I myself have never managed that."
"I'm glad you think that's a good thing," Karma deflected, tucking away a loose curl.
"If we always greeted beauty with applause, I'd be clapping right now." Wickham took her hand and pressed his dark lips against it. Every synapse in Karma's brain fired at once. She wobbled in the stilettos.
"Easy there," Wickham chuckled, steadying her with both arms while Karma groped the sleeves of his tailcoat.
"Sorry." She took a step back. He stepped closer.
"Miss Karma, would you do me the honor of accepting the position?"
Stupid Sage. All Karma could think about at the word "position" was the condom digging into her breast.
"The position?"
"Will you be my opening act for the summer recital?"
"Oh." She blinked away the stupor clouding her rationale. "Of course. I would love that."
"Excellent. I'll be in touch." His lips touched her hand once again.
Karma's feet were a strange heavy-light as she left the taxi and stumbled into the penthouse. The living room was dark except for the whisper of light from the kitchen where Levi was warming up the tea kettle.
"Hey," Karma said, almost smiling when she noticed Jean curled on his lap.
"Hey." Levi tore open a tea packet, avoiding her eye.
Karma settled on the bar top and watched him work. "I'm surprised you left the penthouse."
"I was hoping you could forgive me for the piano."
"Don't worry. That spaghetti did the trick." A smile touched her lips. "You didn't slam the key cover—I take it the music was better this time?"
"Better than expected."
"That means a lot. "
"I'm no Wicked Moron. I'm sure my opinion is moot."
Karma eyed the spot on her hand where Wickham's lips had been. It didn't tingle anymore. "Your opinion is arguably more important."
Levi finally looked up, hand paused mid stir as if waiting for her to elaborate. Karma blushed.
"I wrote that song for you. Not Wickham. I was hoping to play it for you sometime. I'm glad you came."
Levi tapped the excess from his spoon and set it aside. "That so." With the cup in hand, he wheeled to the bartop where Karma was sitting. He scooted it toward her until the heat from the porcelain pulsed against her wrist. "Here."
Karma stared at the cup. "Thank you." She took a small sip and her lips scrunched at the surprising taste. For someone so calloused, he took his tea quite sweet. She watched him fix a second cup. Three sugar cubes. She smiled at the way he held it by the rim.
"Don't feel bad no one clapped," Levi said. Karma half-smiled.
"Wickham says we don't always greet beauty with applause." She didn't mention the second part. The part that made her ears turn red.
"It'd be a pain in the ass if we did."
"Because you only have eight fingers?"
Levi cast his eyes on Jean, but Karma's smile bloomed. That was his way of complimenting—deflecting. But he wasn't finished. "How do you feel about movies?" he said. Karma blinked at the sudden shift. She leaned closer.
"I love movies."
"There's one with live music. Figured that's something you'd be interested in."
"Definitely."
"Alright." Levi finished his tea and nudged Jean off before leaving the kitchen with a murmured, "Goodnight."
She stared after him, painted lips parted.
Karma, I like you.