Chp 25 ~ Sugar In Tea?

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Fun Fact: Levi likes his tea with no milk or sugar or anything. He judges everyone who puts stuff in their tea.

Fun Fact No.2 (bc it suits the chapter too): Levi's handwriting is one of the neatest. This is because he still practices his writing, afraid that you could read his social background from the way he writes. 

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Your POV

For the two weeks leading up to the English exam, I'd met up with Levi every afternoon and often at lunchtimes to help him. It was a bit awkward at first—being that we never really talked—but as time went by, I had gotten to know him more.

All that hatred I had blindly forged between us... I think these meetups distinguished every raging flame of hate. Behind those walls, there was always admiration. Always awe and wonder surrounding this short guy.

Maybe I did like him after all. 

When I'd first witnessed him with the bully group, it fuelled my emotions, turning them against me, crafting deceptions to stop me from realising such a fact. It made things so much simpler, made my world straightforward; I'd found an enemy and I'd hated that enemy. 

That belief blocked any other thought, any other contemplation that would twist things around and around until I was a contorted mess.

Yet now...

My phone buzzed with new notifications.

I clicked onto it, flopping back onto my bed, and watched as a million messages bombarded the screen once again. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It was an expected... activity every morning before school.

I ignored them and switched over to Levi's chat, someone with an important message:


Not coming to school today. Sick.


A pang of disappointment shot through me. Just when I looked forward to school. I replied with:


Sure thing. Hope you get better. I'll come visit you this afternoon.

K.


I put down my phone, hopping off my bed to prepare for school. At least I could still look forward to school now. He lived close to me, only a few streets down. We'd met up on Saturday last week to work on his analysing skills, being that we didn't have enough time the day before.

Perhaps, if he wasn't too sick, I could tutor him a bit more this afternoon.

Drifting my eyes over my school calendar, I felt my breath hitch. Two days left until the exam. I had to get on top of time if I wanted to study myself.

***

He looked nowhere near sick. If the term sick was used to describe a boy who stood in the kitchen with ease whilst turning on the kettle, who bore his usual demeanor with grace and composure...

God, I expected him to be bedbound, a cold towel on his forehead.

Levi brought out two teacups from the cupboard, either unaware of or simply choosing not to acknowledge my presence.

"I would've brought my notes if you looked this sick," I bristled, stalking to the dining area. Levi placed down the kettle and two cups on the table, slumping into the seat opposite of mine.

"I still am sick, you know," he said defensively, rubbing his nose with a finger.

That nose... I really wanted to poke it. Mentally slapping myself for my trivial impulses, I grabbed a cup once Levi had poured it with hot black tea.

While I held it normally, I noticed how he held it—fingers clasping around the cup's rim, staying clear of the handle. "Why do you hold your cup like that?"

Levi lowered his arm after he'd taken a tentative sip, the hint of a glare burning in his eyes. "Why don't you mind your own business?"

There was a long pause of silence before I decided to break it. "Do you have sugar?"

"Yeah," he responded, eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"I want it in my tea."

Levi's brows creased into a frown. "Why would you put sugar in your tea?" he asked in an accusing tone, almost with disgust.

"It'll taste sweet! So can I get some?"

His frown deepened, mouth curving into a critical line. "No."

It was my turn to glare at him. "I just realised 'no' is your favourite word. But why though?" I questioned, exasperated with his manner.

"Because. You'd be an idiot to do so."

And that was that. After I'd downed a miserable, bland cup of tea, we worked on English for the rest of the afternoon, since Levi wasn't that 'sick'. He'd gotten better at analysing and using techniques, able to skilfully write a paragraph with minimal errors.

I watched as he concluded his sentence, astounded at his handwriting. "How do you write so neatly?"

Levi snatched up his notebook, muttering something incoherent.

"What did you say?"

The boy turned his icy glare on me. "You're a real annoying brat, you know."

When I quieted at his comment, Levi let out a sigh, face softening—well, whatever you call a lessening scowl. "I appreciate the time you've put in to help me with English, I really do. I don't think I would've gotten anywhere without your help."

He rubbed the side of his neck. "I just want to say thank you—and sorry, for my behaviour. Today's been quite rough for me."

I nodded slowly, mind processing the shock. The person who only ever uttered a word or two, either 'tch' or 'no'... 

To think he had the capacity to say a whole paragraph sincerely—to apologise—without that cold, phlegmatic manner...

Smiling a bit, I remarked, "I never thought you'd be talkative."

That slight glower returned to his face. "Don't be stupid. I'm always talkative."

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