Levi would send anyone to the deepest depths of the Earth for you. He made that clear. Whether he showed that by telling you straight up, mentioning his protectiveness over you in interviews, in his social media posts, or even in the boxing ring, he made sure that everyone — not just you — knew how far he'd go for you.

He leans back against the locker in one of the changing rooms under the arena, hands on your hips as you press an icepack against his face glazed with sweat. He was looking up at you with that look that you knew all too well. Except there was some kind of extra fire to it this time.

There always was a fire in his eyes especially when it was on the topic of boxing. But, fire meant two things. Boxing and anger. He was angry. How could he not be angry when he heard the way his upcoming opponent was talking on your name?

The next guy he was going to box... whatever his name was, Levi didn't care enough to remember. The idiot was spewing bullshit out of his mouth, talking about you with no shame as if you were some grand trophy for whoever won the next fight. Levi didn't have to worry. You're his. But he's still pissed.

"...Can't believe he even has the audacity to say such thing." Levi speaks through clenched teeth, clearly irritated. "Talking about you like you're some kind of prize to claim. As if I'd let some shit like that happen." He tightens his hold around your hips, holding you close with his chin against your lower stomach.

"Still, baby. He'll never get you. As long as you're on my mind during my fights, there's no doubt I'll win." You're his lucky charm. He even has your initials embroidered into the inner wrist part of his right boxing gloves. That's probably why he lands so many KO's with that hand.