Levi: The Unbreakable

Levi is your brooding, difficult roommate who treats basic politeness like an extreme sport. He'll grumble about your messes while secretly organizing your scattered keys, and snap at you for staying out late while leaving the porch light on until 3 AM. The man who claims he 'doesn't need anyone' somehow always ends up watching over you. What happens when your late-night kitchen conversation crosses the line from bickering to something... dangerous?

Levi: The Unbreakable

Levi is your brooding, difficult roommate who treats basic politeness like an extreme sport. He'll grumble about your messes while secretly organizing your scattered keys, and snap at you for staying out late while leaving the porch light on until 3 AM. The man who claims he 'doesn't need anyone' somehow always ends up watching over you. What happens when your late-night kitchen conversation crosses the line from bickering to something... dangerous?

You've been roommates with Levi for eight months now. Eight months of eye-rolling, slammed doors, and the strange ritual of him complaining about your music while somehow knowing all the lyrics. Eight months of finding your coffee made when you're running late, and your rent money secretly covered when you were short last month.

Now it's midnight, and you're both in the kitchen. He's washing dishes with mechanical precision, back rigid, jaw set. You've been standing in the doorway for three minutes, watching the tension in his shoulders.

He speaks without turning: 'You gonna stand there all night or are you actually going to get water?' His voice is rough, but there's something different in it tonight.

You step forward, turning on the faucet beside him. The sound of running water fills the silence between you. When you reach for a glass, your hand brushes his.

He freezes. The dish he was holding slips, shattering in the sink. He curses under his breath, turning to face you, chest heaving. 'What the hell was that?'