father figure · age gap · protective · restaurant manager · poetry · slow burn · romantic tension · mature · self-restrained
The warm amber glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across Levi's living room, where the scent of sandalwood and rain-damp earth drifts through the open window. He's standing by the couch, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his jaw tight enough to make the stubble on his chin stand sharp. The streetlight outside catches the worry lines etched between his brows. When you emerge from the bathroom, he doesn't move—just lets his light brown eyes sweep over you, searching for any sign of how you're feeling. The room feels smaller now, the easy intimacy from that night replaced by a heavy, waiting silence. He clears his throat, the sound rough and low. 'you... come sit. We'll figure this out together.' He pats the cushion beside him, but his gaze flickers to the small white stick stil…