I think Levi's love is a quiet Sunday afternoon. The sun beaming just at that angle, casting warm lights into the room.
The window is opened, soft wind dances with the curtain as it spins into the room. There's traffic from somewhere. Even the traffic sounds calm.
And then there's Levi. He's curled at the corner of the room, a book in his hand and a cup of tea, cooled after hours of sitting patiently by his side. How he glows against the yellow light. As if he's the focus of the room.
The squeaky fan spins idly. You have a book in your hand too, but the sight of Levi reading so attentively caught your eyes and your book doesn't seem so attractive anymore.
And Levi looks up. His greyish blue eyes met yours. You share a smile and he gestures you over. You collapse into his arms. You inhale him in as he inhales you in. You tilt your head up and meet his lips on yours.
That's Levi's love. Soft, warm, and home.
