As Lev locked eyes with the man above him, the thought struck like an annoyance. Human faces were so damn easy to read. Every twitch of a brow, every clench of the jaw is an unguarded diary written in flesh. Uno’s was particularly loud, a tug-of-war of pride and unease, boldness wrapped around something fragile.

Lev almost rolled his eyes. All this fuss because he’d taken a nap in a bathtub. Arthur had thrown the same tantrum once, screeching about how “humans can’t just soak for hours.” Clearly, humans were fragile and melodramatic.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Lev said, deadpan, as if Uno hadn’t been looming over him like a bad dream.

Uno’s eyes narrowed. “Were you the one who brought me here?”

Lev smirked. “Asking the obvious now, are we?” His tone was pure mockery.

Their closeness made Uno’s scent unavoidable. Whiskey, cigarettes, and leather, cut through with something clean and salt-sharp like the ocean at night. Lev found it almost funny how even his vices seemed to kneel before the rest of him.

“You’re staring awfully hard,” Lev murmured, the corner of his mouth tugging higher. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll float belly-up like a goldfish?”

Uno’s jaw ticked. “I don’t care. Just don’t die in my bathtub like some corpse.”

Lev chuckled low, mocking. “You say that like you’d be traumatized.”

“I wouldn’t,” Uno shot back too fast, his voice edged and brittle.

Lev tilted forward, close enough for the space between them to burn. “If that’s what you say…”

The air thickened. Uno’s irritation rippled off him.

His tightened jaw, flared nostrils, the twitch of his brows. Lev could almost taste the frustration, bitter and sharp, like blood on his tongue.

“Stop talking nonsense and leave,” Uno muttered, his voice cracking with anger instead of authority.

It was only then he noticed. Lev was utterly naked. Awareness hit him like a slap, and he jerked back, springing off the bed as his face darkened. He turned away sharply, the crease in his forehead deepening, unsettled by his own reaction.

Lev’s laugh rolled out, low and cruel. “Not even a thank you for getting you home?”

Uno’s glare deepened, though it stayed fixed on the floor. “Tch. You’re insufferable.” He stormed toward the door, movements sharp with irritation, like a man escaping a fire.

Lev leaned back, stretching out across the mattress as water rolled from his collarbone to his chest. A lazy smirk tugged his mouth. “Run faster, Uno. You might convince yourself you’re not rattled.”

Steam clung to the bathroom mirror, thick as smoke, until Uno dragged his palm across it. His reflection stared back, wrecked. Bloodshot eyes, hair sticking up in crooked strands, the sour weight of a hangover carved into his face.

He let out a low sigh, but the sound died in his throat when his gaze dropped.

A thin scratch ran across his chest. Not deep, but precise, as if something had raked him while he slept. He touched it with two fingers, flinching at the faint sting.

“…Tch. When the hell did this happen?”

Memory failed him. Everything after the bar dissolved into fragments. The elevator lights, the penthouse sofa, then nothing. No fight. No stumbling. No reason for a mark like this.

He scowled at it anyway. His brain was too sluggish to care. Probably the edge of his jacket. Or maybe Lev had been clumsy hauling him around. Either way, nothing worth thinking about.

With a grunt, he turned away from the mirror and stepped back under the shower spray, letting the water wash away the sting and the thought with it.

When Uno stepped out of the bathroom, a towel still slung over his shoulders, he froze.

Lev stood in the middle of the room, stark naked, glaring down at a heap of discarded clothes as if they’d personally insulted him.

Uno’s eye twitched. “…What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t want them anymore,” Lev said flatly, his tone petulant in a way that didn’t match his calm face.

Uno’s voice sharpened. “And why is that?”

“Already dirty.” Lev’s nose wrinkled with exaggerated disgust, as if the faintest trace of human sweat were unbearable.

Of course. Since arriving on Earth, Lev’s sharpened senses had traded the raw tang of sea salt, damp caverns, and the stench of blood-soaked stone for something absurdly civilized. Here, everything reeked of comfort. The fresh soap, roasted coffee, flowers that bloomed just to be admired. Compared to the dungeons, Earth was practically perfumed. Which was why the faint musk of human sweat now felt like a personal offense, as if the planet had gone out of its way to disappoint him.

Uno dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath, then stalked into his walk-in closet. He yanked a spare shirt off a hanger and tossed it at Lev without ceremony. “Wear that. And stop strutting around my place naked like you own the damn penthouse.”

Lev caught the shirt, turned it over like he was inspecting a strange artifact, then slipped it on without complaint.

***

Since it was the weekend, Lev found himself not at Arthur’s house but next door, where Chichi lived with her grandmother. The old woman had insisted on inviting him over as her way of thanking him for “taking care” of her granddaughter while she was recovering.

In truth, Lev hadn’t taken care of Chichi at all. He’d merely tagged along out of curiosity. But the outcome wasn’t bad. Now he was indulging himself with bucket after bucket of ice cream while Chichi’s grandmother kept sending more food his way. Platters of grilled fish, crab, shrimp….an entire spread of seafood. Humans, he thought, were absurdly hospitable. They expressed gratitude for the smallest gestures.

Chichi had planted herself in front of the tiny television, watching some gore-soaked thriller movie. The plot was about a teenage girl from the countryside who joined a singing competition, only for it to unravel that she was a lab experiment, engineered as a weapon. By the halfway mark, she was carving through enemies like a slaughter machine.

Chichi was crying into her sleeve. Lev, meanwhile, was grinning like a demon over his dessert.

“She was such a sweet girl at first,” Chichi sniffled, eyes shining. “I just wanted her to live happily with her parents.”

Lev scoffed. “Sweet? That was all an act.”

Chichi whipped her head toward him, glaring. Lev arched an eyebrow at the audacity of it.

“She didn’t ask to be made like that! She just wanted peace!”

“She was born to kill,” Lev said flatly, the corners of his mouth curving with amusement. “And when she snapped? That was beautiful.”

Chichi stomped her foot. “She’s a victim who was trying to protect her family!”

Lev’s laugh was sharp, mocking. He was openly entertained by how heated the child had gotten.

“Aha. She’s a weapon, enjoying the chance to be exactly what she was designed to be.”

Chichi narrowed her eyes, her small voice sharp as a knife. “You do know killing people is bad, right?”

Lev only shrugged, unconcerned, and scooped another generous spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

“Do you have more movies like this?” he asked, as though her scolding hadn’t registered at all.

Chichi huffed, rolling her eyes. “None!” She stomped off toward the shelf, muttering under her breath. “We’re watching Bxrbie instead!”