Levi’s fingers moved with the kind of ease that only came from repetition. Just fluid motions as he flicked through rows of vinyl records. There was an understated mastery in the way he scanned the shelves, as if he knew the collection intimately. Then, without hesitation, he paused, pulled one out, and handed it to Jean with the casual grace of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

“Since you say you’re a customer,” he said, a faint but earnest smile playing on his lips, “I reckon you’ll enjoy this one.”

Jean turned the record over in her hands, taking in the abstract cover art and the delicate texture of the faintly yellowed sleeve.

“Hmm... I don’t really know what I’m into, music-wise,” she admitted, a hint of uncertainty slipping into her voice. “But cheers for the recommendation.”

“You must be swamped,” Levi said, leaning casually against the edge of a crate, his posture relaxed but attentive. “Student life, football… being a team captain on top of that.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed.

“You remember all that just from Renee’s rambling?”

“Don’t go off telling her I listen,” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “I just… happen to have a decent memory, is all.”

“So you want me to keep quiet about your secret attentive streak?” she asked, a flicker of a smirk curling her lips.

“If you wouldn’t mind... yeah.” His laugh came out light and unforced, a sound that somehow made the old shop feel a little warmer, a little less cluttered.

Jean chuckled, not expecting to feel this... at ease.

“Renee’s got a decent brother, hasn’t she?”

Before Levi could respond, their moment was interrupted by the hurried clatter of footsteps echoing through the narrow aisle, cutting through the stillness like a needle on vinyl.

“Blimey,” Renee’s voice rang out, thick with exasperation. “How hard can it be to find you when you’re the only one working here?”

Levi straightened slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

“You’ve always been a terrible seeker. Some things never change.”

"Shut it," Renee retorted, tossing a small bundle of leather and metal his way. "Here—your wallet and keys. Try not to lose them again, you goldfish-brained twit."

Another voice followed, airy and teasing.

“I’m Diane, by the way. To be fair, this place is a proper maze.”

"My apologies," Levi said, offering a polite nod to Diane, his gaze briefly meeting hers. "I should've brought my phone with me, especially if I knew you were all coming.”

“Well, cheerio then,” Renee muttered, already pivoting to leave with a visible shiver. “This place is giving me the willies.”

“Hang on,” Jean called out, stepping forward with the records still tucked in her arms. “I’m buying something first.”

Diane gave her a look, one brow arched.

“Huh? Weren’t you just slagging off this shop a few minutes ago?”

Jean shrugged, a defiant glimmer in her eye.

“It doesn't hurt to try something new once in a while.”

Levi gave her a subtle nod of approval and gently took the two vinyl from her hands.

“I’ll get this wrapped up for you.”

He walked away, not with haste, but with that same unhurried rhythm he carried in everything he did. Like a song that didn’t care if you were paying attention, but still managed to pull you in. There was something raw about him. 

Unapologetic. Unfiltered. Real.

Jean watched him retreat behind the worn wooden counter, then let her gaze drift around the shop once more. The scent of aged paper and vinyl lingered in the air, mingling with the faint static hum of forgotten melodies.

Oddly enough, it was... comforting.

Sometimes, she thought, as a quiet sense of wonder stirred in her chest, the most curious surprises come from the places you least expect.