Levi sets the table as I transfer the last of the prepared fruit to a bowl. "Glasses are in the cabinet above your head, pour yourself whatever you'd like," he says.

"And you?" I ask, getting out two glasses.

"I'll have water."

"Alright." I should probably have water too, for recovery reasons. At least I know that's what he's thinking, being a good caretaker and all. But I'm not about to pass up on the generous options he bought. This doesn't seem like his usual spread, and even if he didn't go out of his way, I appreciate having variety.

After I pour myself half a glass of milk and get him filtered water from the fridge, I make my way to the dining table. Passing the edge of the counter, the bottom of the glass hits the corner and knocks it from my grip. Reflexes kick in, but the weakened muscles in my arm protest and cause my reaction to come a spit second too late.

I freeze—the glass doesn't.

It falls faster than I can catch, and subsequently splinters into pieces on the floor. Shock slices through my chest as I watch the milk seep outwards in a lopsided puddle.

"I—I'm sorry!" I look up at Levi, too panicked to notice his reaction. "Do you have a broom? I'll clean it up, and I'll buy you a new glass. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright." He stands.

"—I meant a mop. Wow, what's gotten into me?" I attempt a nervous laugh, but it comes out as an awkward croak. Shit, I'm a blubbering wreck in front of a vampire. "A mop would work better. I'm sorry. If you don't have one that's fine too..."

"Hanna."

I glance around for a mop, or a broom. Hell, a roll of paper towel will do the job. Everything begins to blur as my mind races. This man literally saved my life and here I am breaking his things. I'm such a disappointment. He's going to scold me and I'll deserve every word. But right now I need to focus and clean this up. I need to—

"Hanna." The steady voice in front of me pierces the flurry of thought. I cast my head down. Broken pieces of glass swirl through the layer of tears as I fight to get myself under control.

A gentle pull tugs at my hand, and I remember the glass of water for him still clenched between my fingers. I let him take it and another wave of guilt washes over me. I just had to go and ruin our breakfast.

He's going to regret saving me, I've always known he would. He'll see what a waste his efforts were and despite what he said last night, there's no stopping the truth from coming out.

I'm a failure.

Feather-light, chilled hands smooth up my arms. "Shhhh."

I swallow, a painful lump stuck in my throat. I hadn't even realized how hard my heart had begun to hammer, how my breaths have shortened and come out all ragged. He's probably wondering why I'm such a mess. I feel awful, completely useless.

"It's alright," he repeats. "Take a step back, so you don't cut yourself."

One word jumps out, implanting itself in my brain as a tear escapes. I shut my eyes in denial. Dammit. He is worried I'll cut myself—again.

Slight pressure at my shoulders guides me to step back. He's still in front of me, unaffected by the shards I'm supposed to avoid. I choke on silent sobs, prepared to suffocate myself before any seep out. My hands find the edges of the jacket at his chest and cling on. The familiar shadow of self-doubt pulls me down into its trap.

"Shhh." Levi runs his hands up and down my arms. The cool touch relieves the heat burning inside, grounds me. I focus on the rhythmic movement and my breaths even out. "You're okay."

"No, I'm not," I say back, voice hoarse and shaky. I grip his jacket, twisting it in my fists. "I'm not okay and you shouldn't have..." My voice stills, shifting to a whisper. "You shouldn't have saved me."

He pulls me closer, so I can feel his body against mine. "Let's worry about what I did some other time. What's making you not okay?"

I shudder as a large sigh passes through my lips. My head hangs, and then rests on his shoulder. "I'm not built to be a survivor."

I make a quick list of all the proof, sure it's wholly condemning. "At night, I can't sleep. I can't get rid of Lucien—and even if I could, he's only the embodiment of the same shadow that's haunted me my whole life. I can't stop the same overwhelming numbness from coming back, and when it does, I can't help but blame myself. I'm always going to mess up. I thought I got better for a while, but I didn't. This—" I pull away and hold up my bandaged forearms. "—is proof. I can't get away from the dark."

Levi listens and looks me in the eyes. In this moment, he appears nothing like Lucien. The red of his irises is faint, but soft and his eyebrows are pulled forward in a bunch. He doesn't smirk or scoff, and after I'm done, pauses before replying, "It's okay to not feel strong."

I stare at him, trying to decipher why he said what he did. I know that. This is different. "But it's me. I'm not strong."

He smiles faintly. How he of all people could smile in this moment is beyond me. "No one is, not truly. Those who say they are often turn out to be the easiest to break down."

I frown, chewing my lip. I don't believe him, but I can tell he isn't just saying it to make me feel better.

"Mistakes aren't a reflection of who you are. Sometimes they're a consequence of what you've been through, but if you can go through what you have and still try to move past it, then you're pretty damn strong. You helped make a good breakfast, and I think we should eat before it gets cold." He grabs a hand towel and gathers the shards of glass and spilled milk in a pile. "After, we can talk more if you want."

"Okay." I don't argue. Careful to step around the debris, I make my way to the table and sit down. Levi joins and sets a glass of milk next to my plate.

"Half-full, that's how you poured it before, right?" he asks.

I notice he's poured the same amount of milk I had in my first glass, and it makes me smile. "Yeah."

After breakfast, I'm more exhausted than I thought I'd be— physically and mentally. Not sleeping combined with my brief breakdown has my body yearning for a nap and my arms aching. But first, I should wash dishes and clean up the mess. I stifle a yawn as I collect our plates and bring them to the sink.

"You need rest," Levi says, following behind with the remaining dishes.

"Yeah, I think I'll lay down for a bit after I clean this up." I set the plates down, then turn to the pile of broken glass.

"I'll handle it."

I huff, not about to ditch my responsibility. "It's my fault, and the least I can do."

"I insist," he counters, tone firm. "Learn to take care of yourself."

I feel scolded. I knew it would come, but didn't expect it like this. "Fine."

I don't know why I feel so defensive. But I've lost most of my energy in figuring out everything wrong with me this morning. Stomping off to the bedroom, I wonder what Levi's thinking. Perhaps I've overstayed my welcome.

I really do hate breaking things in the kitchen. Ruins the whole mood.

❤️‍🩹 Siberia