Portia's P.O.V:
Erin dropped me off at my hotel, saying he'd be checking out tomorrow as well. He offered me a ride home, but I told him I'd be extending my stay—there was someone I still needed to meet. We agreed to see each other at school if we had time. It was already 4:30, and I was choosing what to wear for later.
I settled on a sleeveless nude satin crisscross dress paired with black heels. A thin gold necklace completed the look. I ran a warm bath with bath salts, trying to relax. After showering, I dried my hair and applied light makeup—just as I always do—but instead of red lipstick, I used the same soft shade I wore to breakfast with Erin.
Speaking of him, I got a message: I had a really nice day with you. I smiled, replying that I felt the same. But before I could read his next message, another one came in—this time from Levi: Be there before 7 p.m. That jolted me into action. I rushed out of the hotel, not even checking Erin's follow-up, and drove just fast enough to make it in time.
By 6:30, I'd parked and approached the front of the Bistro. Levi stood there looking effortlessly handsome.
"I'm sorry I'm late," I said breathlessly.
"I thought I could finish two full courses before you arrived," he teased. "Come on, we have to board a yacht," he added, extending his hand.
I took it, and we walked briskly. My heels slowed me down, and he glanced at me, confused, before sweeping me up like I weighed nothing.
"Hey, honey! You look stunning, but you're slower than a turtle," he said bluntly.
"H-Hey, it's embarrassing," I stammered, cheeks burning.
"Don't act like a pig. Just stay calm," he said, scolding me lightly.
Maybe I was heavier than I thought. I mumbled an apology and stayed still until we reached the deck. He set me down and escorted me onto the yacht. A candle-lit dinner awaited us. My plan had been simple: hand him his keys and leave. But that plan vanished the moment I saw the view.
Could I really walk away after all this effort? Was this his way of apologizing for his earlier behavior?
"Let's have dinner first, before we set sail," he said.
Classical music began to play as he offered his hand again. I took it and he led me to a seat.
"So, how are you?" he asked with his usual stoic expression.
"I'm good. How about you?" I returned the question.
"I'm doing good," he replied simply, eyes on mine.
The first course arrived, and we ate in silence. There was a tension I couldn't shake. After finishing his plate, Levi finally spoke.
"I hope you'll enjoy the evening."
His eyes locked on mine, and my heart thudded. "We'll see," I replied, unsure of what this night meant to him.
We continued eating in silence. I didn't dare speak—I was afraid I'd crack under the pressure. He made no effort to lighten the mood either. After the meal, he stood.
"Wait here," he said and walked off. The musicians left too.
I wandered onto the deck, letting the salty breeze soothe me. I closed my eyes, breathing in the ocean air, when I suddenly felt warm lips press against my shoulder, trailing slowly up to my neck and just behind my ear.
"You smell so good," Levi whispered.
"L-Levi?" I gasped.
He hummed in response, not stopping. "Wait," I said, pulling back.
I turned to face him—and he kissed me.
The kiss was fierce and unapologetic, full of emotion I hadn't expected. I broke away for air, for clarity. "Levi, wait, I think—"
He interrupted me with another kiss, softer this time. "Please, just let me prove something."
His tongue slid into my mouth without permission, invading every wall I had left. I pulled away again, needing to breathe. His eyes were closed, the moon casting a silver glow across his face.
Then he kissed me again—gentle, tender—making my heart melt.
His left hand held my waist; his right hand trapped mine, as if he didn't want me to escape. It felt like surrender. Our lips parted, and we stared at each other.
"I like how your lips fit mine. Did you know that?" he whispered before licking my lips.
My cheeks flushed, burning with heat. I was sure I was blushing like a sunset.
"I don't want to stop kissing you. Not even for a second," he whispered again, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
His breath on my neck made me shiver. "Look at the stars, lady. I want them to witness how I make you mine. And I want the moon to remind you of this night, every time it shines."
His kisses moved from my hair to my ears, then trailed down my neck and shoulders. He paused at my collarbone, placing a heated kiss there like a mark.
The feeling set fire to my skin, and I could feel myself nearing the edge of control. He swept me up in his arms—bridal style.
And the rest of the night?
It was written in the language of stars, silence, and the sea.