Chapter Two: Not Just His Girl

The cacophony of applause assaults her senses, a jarring mix of sound clashing with the dizzying rush in her head, all vying for dominance over the frantic rhythm of her pounding heart.

La'niia sat still. 

No, that can't be. 

Malik stepped away from the podium with the same quite control he always carries, the same control she never tries to change but for the first time in a long time there is a deep burning in the pit of her gut for Malik to be something different; someone different. 

He didn't rush away. 

He wasn't humble. 

He was simply finished and didn't say my name. 

La'niia picks the napkin up, folds it, and places it over her knees again although it hasn't moved. Her thoughts aren't settled. Her eyes burn a little and her throat feels thick. She hadn't expected a spotlight. She didn't demand a great show of affection but she thought that she would at least have a place amongst the names. 

The lack of public intimacy she'd anticipated and respected. 

The fact he doesn't always speak his intimacy, well she doesn't push for him to do that when he's so great in so many other ways. 

However, she had not expected to be excluded entirely. 

The little girl in her aches in the same place that ached for her father to tell her she's beautiful, she's smart, and that she's talented. Her heart aches in the place that wanted her father to say she holds a place in his life, what that place is, and that it matters. The place aches that aches everytime a reporter makes an entire interview about her beauty and who she's wearing. Tonight feels like a turning place in that aching and it's not Malik's fault but it's all La'niia can process. 

All that's running through her mind is the fact that there had been a list. Strings of names had been added to that list with care. There were organizers, doctor, lawyers, writers, and even a poet named. La'niia heard every syllable. La'niia's breath hitched, her body a coiled spring with each name uttered. She meticulously gauged the space between words, a desperate prayer for that fleeting moment when her name would finally break through the silence.

That moment never came. 

Suddenly, it was clear that the dress she wore, in his favorite color, felt worthless tonight. The hours she spent on her hair and nails also seemed pointless because there wasn't a single moment when Malik saw her in the crowd and thought, "She's here for me."

I mean...they're all for him too.

I'm being childish.

Malik stood beside the stage now, greeting the mayor and his aides. She smiles softly as he moves with purpose. He isn't warm or cold but distant enough to remain ideal. He's come a long way with handling the spotlight, and the socializing. 

Someone at the table leans closer to another guest speaking. "They say that he's a genius. Everything that he does is planned and it means something. He's really precise like that." 

"Well, I heard it's because he's autistic." Someone adds in without judgement, it's simply the truth. 

La'niia doesn't react. She doesn't know if she's expected to and doesn't have the energy. She's so in her head over the first comment because it's so true. Her superhero boyfriend, who's hyper fixated on details, left her out of his speech tonight. She sips her water, throat dry, despite the temperature in the room 

Besides, she doesn't pay attention to the comment about his autism, because they're not wrong.. He confided that in her himself. He told her years ago, before the press speculated and way before Beacon became more than a name. 

He had been clear. 

He doesn't process emotion the way that I do. 

He possesses a keen understanding of others' requirements, yet he often struggles to fulfill those needs instantaneously. At times, his actions are guided more by an inner compass than by conventional norms. He frequently prioritizes solitude and tranquility over social comfort, simply needing moments of quiet introspection.

I accepted that. 

I learned to love him within it. 

But tonight something is aching, raw and painful. Something has shifted and she doesn't know what to do with that. She only recognizes that it happened. 

The music begins again, something classical. The lights adjust for dinner service. 

A chill runs up her back. 

It isn't the kind from terror. 

Eyes. 

She feels a stillness in the air to her left and she almost chooses not to look but something makes her look anyway. 

Levi's presence is a captivating mix of casual elegance and calculated intent. Standing a comfortable distance away, he exudes an air of effortless charm. The slight turn of his shoulders, the way he holds his glass, and the deliberately unbuttoned suit jacket all speak volumes without uttering a word. His gaze, steady and observant, rests upon her, devoid of any overwhelming intensity, yet undeniably present.

He doesn't look away but he doesn't smile right away. 

He doesn't wave either. 

They are locked in sight for a moment. 

He tilts his head and raises a singular brow before saying loud enough for her to hear, "Green suits you."

And then, he walks away. 

Not towards her table. He walks around the edge of the room, greeting a producer, and shaking hands with a man that looks like he sells pharmaceuticals, pausing to accept a compliment with and expression that's gracious but very bored. 

La'niia watches him longer than she should. 

His compliment was unsettling. 

La'niia ponders his angle because she's wise enough to know the compliment was a statement and not just to tell her she's pretty like everyone else. He passed behind her chair, that was purposeful, she knows it. She knows he'll be back and he is. 

"You didn't clap." His voice is low enough for her to hear. 

"Well, neither did you." She doesn't look up. 

"I was enjoying a different show, one that doesn't deserve to have its applause lost in the crowd." 

Her eyes flicker to his. 

La'niia knows danger when it's near. 

She swallows hard. 

Yeah, that was smooth. 

"I thought you would say something." He says. 

"About what?" She is a bit defensive. 

"About being left out." 

Now, she turns to him fully. Her movement is slow. "I just wasn't included in the names. It wasn't 'left out'." 

Levi doesn't smile. "Somehow that makes it even worse." 

He moves on. 

He doesn't go far, he lingers as he sits at the table where another seat had been left open. 

He sits uninvited and no one stops him. 

No one was going to stop him. People smile when they see him. A few clap and someone snaps a photo. 

He responds with nods, a wink, and a flash of teeth. His presence is familiar, yet never quiet. He's unlike Malik; they're both heroes, but of different kinds. Beacon makes people stand taller, while Sloan makes people lean in.

A server approaches and Levi gestures once. A new glass arrives within moments. He nudges it halfway across the table, toward her. She doesn't reach for it, she stares him down. 

"You think he forgot." It isn't a question. She is trying to figure out his angle. 

"I don't think he forgets things." He says casually, with a shrug but a gleam in his eyes that says he knows the words hurt. 

La'niia watches the candle light dance. She counts the flickers. She notices the ice in her glass hasn't yet melted. She holds her breath. She tries to think of something witty to say while her feelings hurt. 

"You were on the list." He sits back with a huff. "In the early draft anyway." 

She turns slightly. 

"I remember you being right between the fire captain and the poet." 

Her eyes narrow, but just barely. She holds on to her reserve for dear life. 

"What, so you read his drafts now?" 

"I read the briefings and I don't always wait for permission." 

La'niia lowers her eyes. Silence settles and Levi holds it. She looks around and can't readily find Malik. 

And even if I did, what would I expect? 

"Are you here to make me feel bad or like what is it you want?" She finally responds with a little fire, not wanting to take this tension with him any longer. 

"I'm here because I didn't like the look on your face when he didn't say your name."

Her expression remains. 

"I didn't look any way." 

"Miss Pierce, you looked exactly like the audience did when the monster was revealed in your recent movie."

The situation is turning awkward. La'niia takes a deep breath, trying to remain composed. The irony of Levi bringing up her movie, especially with the suggestive tone, is not lost on her. A subtle smirk plays on her lips as she wonders what his true intentions are. 

"So what, you think you know me or something?" She shudders, leaning closer to him, the unspoken tension between them thick in the air. Her breath catches, a mix of vulnerability and defiance swirling within her as she finds herself drawn into his captivating gaze, the room fading into a muted background.

Her brows are furrowed and she subtly bites into her lip with squinted eyes. 

I can't read him. 

And for La'niia, that fact is actually a bit refreshing because most people are surface level to her. 

"I know that what you allow to be seen is covering so much that isn't, and that's what I'm trying to get a peek at. Who is La'niia Pierce?" Levi's smile is a study in calculated charm, devoid of any aggressive undertones. It's a warm, inviting gesture, a carefully crafted display of accessibility that puts La'niia at ease, despite the underlying tension. 

The corners of his lips curve subtly, revealing a flash of his even, white teeth, and his eyes crinkle just enough to convey genuine amusement without crossing into flirtatiousness. It's the kind of smile that suggests he's enjoying the moment, acknowledging her intelligence and strength, rather than trying to win her over with empty pleasantries.

She finds herself shaking her head, a flicker of defiance in her eyes as she wrestles with the conflicting emotions swirling within her. The air crackles with unspoken tension, a magnetic pull between them that is both captivating and unsettling.

Maybe I shouldn't talk to him, but he's the only one in the room who feels like a real person, not just another programmed bot.

"You know, no one's looked at me that way in a while. I guess I'm so used to being put in a role where men always try to minimize me that it actually feels a little threatening that someone's seeing something more than the perfection, and between you and me, I kind of hate it.." 

He nods, and a slow, knowing smile plays on his lips, mirroring the complex emotions swirling within her. The unspoken connection between them intensifies, a silent acknowledgment of shared vulnerabilities and a spark of something...more.

He speaks. "You're a superhero in your own way. I think you know what it's like to be idolized more than accepted for who and what you are. It's a lonely feeling, and I can only imagine the silence around you when he's speaking only makes it more isolating.." 

La'niia folds her hands in her lap, straightening her posture. The unspoken tension between them thickens as she meets Levi's gaze, a silent challenge exchanged. A spark of defiance ignites within her, a determination to protect her carefully constructed facade.

One thing she won't accept is an outsider making Malik that bad guy:

Because he's not a bad guy. 

"Well, good thing I've learned to find the peace in silence." She replies with a bit of charm, a hit of wielded beauty to hide the sore feeling that tonight felt quieter than any other night; Malik didn't say her name. 

"Sweetheart," Levi leans in, and the potent scent of his cologne, a heady blend of amber, sandalwood, and a hint of something wild and untamed , wraps around her, a thrilling song of unspoken desire. It's an intoxicating perfume that lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the sterile formality of the room, stirring a primal response within her. The intoxicating aroma is a physical manifestation of the magnetic pull between them, a secret language whispered in the intoxicating aftermath of their charged encounter.. "That there is a lie." 

She twists her mouth, making a soft, sliding kiss sound as she releases a deep breath, tilting her head. She isn't offended, but she knows when she's been bested, and her carefully constructed persona isn't working on Levi Sloan. He sees something, and he's not letting it go.

Furthermore, I hate that what he believes he sees is right. 

"Well then, it's a lie I put the work into and earned."La'niia raises a playful eyebrow, a subtle smirk playing on her lips as she takes a delicate sip of her drink, a mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes, hinting at the amusement she finds in the unfolding situation and the intriguing game that has just begun between them.

Levi nods.

He says nothing else. And for a few long moments, neither did she. 

La'niia finds herself drawn to Levi's genuine presence, a stark contrast to the carefully curated interactions of the evening. There's an undeniable spark between them, a connection that transcends the superficial, and she is hesitant to let it fade. The comfort of authentic human connection outweighs the potential risks, making her reluctant to end the engagement.

"You know, if you think you know me, then maybe you should work on your approach. Trust, you wouldn't wanna be on my bad side." Playfully she rolls her eyes and La'niia playfully arches an eyebrow, her lips forming a small, defiant pout as she tilts her head, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes.

Levi blinks once. 

He isn't startled or offended. 

His smile was a sunrise, warm and captivating, a stark contrast to the cool, calculated air surrounding them. It promised adventure, a hint of mischief, and a confidence that was both alluring and reassuring. La'niia found herself captivated, the playful energy washing over her as she wondered what secrets lay hidden behind that enigmatic facade.

His mouth twitches. "Me, on your bad side? I wouldn't survive it."

The share a giggle and for the first time all evening, La'niia feels her shoulders drop.