The Doctor and the Barista (Levi Ackerman / OC)

Chapter Nine - Champurrado

When the movie finished, Levi didn't move his arm. She stayed close to his body, tucked to his chest even as he put on another movie.

The movie he put on this time was Star Wars, something she'd seen a hundred times before and did not require the protective warmth of Levi. But he kept her there, closing to his thumping heart.

Hours passed as the movie finished. They watched the movies quietly, neither moving. Her stomach grumbled as dinner time rolled around. She swallowed thickly, pulling away from him and sitting up to face him.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Sure," he says, stretching his arms. "Want to order something?"

"I can cook," she answers quickly. She immediately becomes self conscious. "If you want. I don't know if I'm any good. I usually just cook for myself."

He shrugs, titling his head at her. "Alright. What are you going to make?"

She pulls herself off of the couch, going through her fridge and biting her lip. She hadn't gone seriously food shopping in a week, and was left with mostly things she'd picked up from the deli on the way home from work the other day. "I could make pasta," she says, seeing the box of fettuccine in her pantry. "Is fettuccine alfredo with chicken okay?"

"That's fine. Do you need help?"

"Nope."

She was cooking quietly, conscious of the fact that Levi would glance into the kitchen from his place on the couch occasionally. She usually never cooked for anyone else; at home her parents always made dinner and when she was with friends Sasha, the chef of the group, always handled the cooking.

Levi came into the kitchen just as she was finishing up cooking the chicken, offering to set the table for the two of them. She was embarrassed by the mess on her kitchen table, covered in her medical reference books and various stacks of study notes. Levi didn't seem to mind, stacking them up and putting them on the kitchen counter before taking a quick look at the pile.

"You study a lot, don't you?"

"I have to."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," she says with an awkward laugh. "I'm not you, Levi. I have to study so I can stay on the top of my game."

"You're right, you're not me," he says with a sigh, coming behind her to reach for the tea in front of her. He lingered, arms surrounding her and face close to hers, eyes meeting. "I could never do what you do. You're more involved with patients than I could ever be. You're not me. You're you. You're good at what you do, so don't keel over from studying so much."

Her cheeks heated up, so she ducked her head to slice the chicken and put the pasta into bowls. He never encouraged her like that, so she was extremely taken off guard. "Thanks," she mumbles quietly, hiding her eyes behind her hair as he moved to sit at the table.

"You're welcome," he says flatly, dropping a teabag into each of their mugs. The smell of black tea reaches her nose as brings the bowls of pasta over to the table. She hesitantly twirled her pasta around her fork as she waited for him to try it, becoming more self conscious by the second of her cooking ability. "It's good," he finally says, taking another bite. "Really good. I like it."

She exhales a breath that she didn't know she was holding in, smiling to herself before taking a bite of the pasta. It was average tasting at best, just plain old fettuccine alfredo that anyone could make. It wasn't nearly as good as the pasta they'd gotten a few weeks ago for lunch, but Levi still ate it with what she'd consider a smile.