I Have An Objection! [ Levi x OC ] [ Moderate Editing ]

Ch. 24: The Sonatas of Romantic Pursuits

So much time has passed that no one knew about my Israeli headcanon for Levi and geez, I feel late to some kind of party. Well, whatever, Levi being of Middle Eastern descent just makes him more attractive in my eyes, like wowzers. Also, if you don't know where Binghampton is, it's in New York near the Pennsylvania border.

Also hi, I'm back, this story isn't dead, I was only trying to get through my senior year of high school. Yes, I know, I'm old as heck, you don't have to remind me.

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A sigh escaped my lips as I tapped a charcoal pen against my notepad. On top of having to calculate the expenses and bills at Brightfield, domestic utilities were a priority as well, seeing as though I was continuing to split my income for both Marco and Levi. What with the rent increase where we lived, Marco was forced to cough up more of his earnings since I moved in with my boyfriend, which was putting him in debt faster from both living necessities and college loans. Even if I chose not to live with the freckle-faced gent, I found it immoral to cease my payment of the apartment until he was able to find a smaller place or invite a new roommate to live with him. 

Although his utilities were none of my business anymore, I chipped in due to his college spending and pity for the rent situation, which eventually caused my spending with Levi to be more conservative. Combined, the two of us had a steady paycheck every few weeks out of the month and were allowed to splurge when granted, however, I eventually created a meticulous and organized plan to regulate that income. Considering what essentials Levi and I had to take care of, I wrote down a list each week for chores, shopping, and meal ideas, much to Levi's discomfort.

"Roxanne, what are you doing?" Levi inquired curiously when he walked into the dining room, clothed in a porpoise turtleneck and dark jeans courtesy of the weekend and our day off at home.

"Figuring out what we should have for dinner next week," I answered, resting my cheek on my left palm, twirling the pen between my right fingers as I spoke. "We're going grocery shopping tomorrow, so I thought planning our meals would be a logical thing to do."

"Does it really matter what we have?" Levi pressed, his socks scuffing against the tile as he trudged over to the cabinets above the sink. "Both of us are capable of cooking by now, so why don't we decide last minute or something?"

"If we do that, then there won't be enough time to unthaw any of the meat in the freezer," I admonished reasonably, swiveling in my seat to spectate his further actions. "Besides, there's also the implication that one of us may work later than the other, and whoever is home first should have at least made a simple dish for the other. Especially since you've been having some lengthy days as of late."

"Because all that time we took off is finally adding up to piles of paperwork on my desk," Levi responded in a ticked manner as he opened the oak cabinets, withdrawing a bag of organic potato chips I had bought the weekend before. "Do you know how many court cases I have lined up in the next month alone? My hours are just brimming with early mornings and late evenings, so I barely have enough time to spend with you."

"You should be more worried about your health than our intimacy," I declared, smiling at the exasperated male. "I'm aware we share a special bond, but that doesn't mean we have to constantly reassure it. We love each other, it's as simple as that, so we shouldn't waste precious time bickering about the amount of time we're in another's company. Work and weekends are plenty for me."

Levi exhaled a steady breath, pacing back over to the dining table and setting his unopened snack on the wooden object. Pulling one of the matching chairs out, he took a seat diagonal from my left and watched me with perplexed, rainy hues, monitoring me as I pivoted around to my original posture. I blinked at him a few times, baffled as to why he was intent on gazing at me in such a peculiar fashion, quirking a brow at his unusual behavior.