Moonlight Saving Time

“What the—?” he grumbles.

A voice drifts down from above you both:

“They love me… they love me not. They love me… they love me not. They love me…”

You fold your arms, squinting up at Xavier, who’s leant wistfully on the balcony above yours. He plucks petals from a flower as he whispers into the night, and the moon, ever his co-conspirator, is bathing his melancholy in silver.

Valko frowns upwards. The latest petal is spiralling down towards his face again, and he sends it away with a pointed puff of breath. “Hey… hey, you!” he calls out, a surprising amount of sympathy sanding down his gruffness; it might even be empathy. “You okay up there?”

Xavier sighs softly. “I’m okay.”

For the love of— “Xavier.” You step towards your balcony’s edge so you can stare up at him more fully. “This isn’t what it looks like, okay? He’s just a friend! Not even that, really.”

“They love me…” Xavier muses on.

Valko glances at you. “You know him?”

“He’s my partner. From work,” you’re quick to add. Too quick.

“They love me not.”

“Oh cut it out, Xavi! Fine! He’s more than my partner. It’s… complicated. Valko, that’s Xavier. Xavier… this is Valko.”

Xavier finally turns his eyes down on you both, and he smiles warmly, giving a wave. “Hi.”

That’s not a good smile, that’s his secretly-plotting-a-murder smile.

“Uh… hey,” Valko answers.

“Xavier? I’m okay, really. I can handle this myself.”

“I know you can.” Xavier’s chin rests, propped up by his hand; the half-plucked flower tickles his cheek. You can’t see his other hand, which means it’s down by his side, holding his sword. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

“Thanks.” And you are grateful. On edge, but grateful. “I’m good, though. Promise. Got it under control.”

“Yeah?” Valko’s shadow is swallowing you again. “Think you’ve got what it takes to tame the wol—?”

You press a finger to his mouth, smiling innocently up at Xavier, whose gaze has gone narrow. Oblivious to the danger, Valko smirks, then tries to nip at your fingertip. You wish you did have a muzzle.

“Night, Xavier!” you dismiss sweetly.  

“Goodnight,” he murmurs back, because he does— despite his worry, and the stranger still trying to playfully catch your finger in his mouth— trust you. He withdraws from his vantage point, sword swung back against his shoulder and glinting ominously. A blink-and-you-miss-it threat, just like the rest of him.

A slow breath leaves your lips. You flick Valko square in the middle of his forehead.

"Ah..." he winces, face scrunched, but his pupils dilate in excitement. “Where were we?”

“You were about five sentences away from propositioning me, I think.”

“Fifteen, actually. Now who’s acting familiar?”

You’re about to scoff and say something else— something along the lines of you having no intention, whatsoever, of letting his ridiculous (albeit, very fine) ass into your home— when a loud squawk interrupts you. Your body goes tense.

A red-eyed crow is perched on your balcony rail, watching. By extension, a nosy, red-eyed man, too.

Valko sneers at where Mephisto is hunched, all bristling black feathers, being buffeted by the wind. “That’s a weird-looking thing.”

“That’s Mephisto.”

“Huh?”

Mephisto caws in indignance, his cover betrayed. You tug Valko into your apartment. “C’mon. If we’re gonna be hanging out, there’s some stuff you should know.”

“What the—?” he grumbles.

A voice drifts down from above you both:

“They love me… they love me not. They love me… they love me not. They love me…”

You fold your arms, squinting up at Xavier, who’s leant wistfully on the balcony above yours. He plucks petals from a flower as he whispers into the night, and the moon, ever his co-conspirator, is bathing his melancholy in silver.

Valko frowns upwards. The latest petal is spiralling down towards his face again, and he sends it away with a pointed puff of breath. “Hey… hey, you!” he calls out, a surprising amount of sympathy sanding down his gruffness; it might even be empathy. “You okay up there?”

Xavier sighs softly. “I’m okay.”

For the love of— “Xavier.” You step towards your balcony’s edge so you can stare up at him more fully. “This isn’t what it looks like, okay? He’s just a friend! Not even that, really.”

“They love me…” Xavier muses on.

Valko glances at you. “You know him?”

“He’s my partner. From work,” you’re quick to add. Too quick.

“They love me not.”

“Oh cut it out, Xavi! Fine! He’s more than my partner. It’s… complicated. Valko, that’s Xavier. Xavier… this is Valko.”

Xavier finally turns his eyes down on you both, and he smiles warmly, giving a wave. “Hi.”

That’s not a good smile, that’s his secretly-plotting-a-murder smile.

“Uh… hey,” Valko answers.

“Xavier? I’m okay, really. I can handle this myself.”

“I know you can.” Xavier’s chin rests, propped up by his hand; the half-plucked flower tickles his cheek. You can’t see his other hand, which means it’s down by his side, holding his sword. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

“Thanks.” And you are grateful. On edge, but grateful. “I’m good, though. Promise. Got it under control.”

“Yeah?” Valko’s shadow is swallowing you again. “Think you’ve got what it takes to tame the wol—?”

You press a finger to his mouth, smiling innocently up at Xavier, whose gaze has gone narrow. Oblivious to the danger, Valko smirks, then tries to nip at your fingertip. You wish you did have a muzzle.

“Night, Xavier!” you dismiss sweetly.  

“Goodnight,” he murmurs back, because he does— despite his worry, and the stranger still trying to playfully catch your finger in his mouth— trust you. He withdraws from his vantage point, sword swung back against his shoulder and glinting ominously. A blink-and-you-miss-it threat, just like the rest of him.

A slow breath leaves your lips. You flick Valko square in the middle of his forehead.

"Ah..." he winces, face scrunched, but his pupils dilate in excitement. “Where were we?”

“You were about five sentences away from propositioning me, I think.”

“Fifteen, actually. Now who’s acting familiar?”

You’re about to scoff and say something else— something along the lines of you having no intention, whatsoever, of letting his ridiculous (albeit, very fine) ass into your home— when a loud squawk interrupts you. Your body goes tense.

A red-eyed crow is perched on your balcony rail, watching. By extension, a nosy, red-eyed man, too.

Valko sneers at where Mephisto is hunched, all bristling black feathers, being buffeted by the wind. “That’s a weird-looking thing.”

“That’s Mephisto.”

“Huh?”

Mephisto caws in indignance, his cover betrayed. You tug Valko into your apartment. “C’mon. If we’re gonna be hanging out, there’s some stuff you should know.”

For the past week, the two of you had been suspiciously plagued with such drawbacks, almost as if fate herself had damned your plans. The mission went wrong after your inexperienced hunting partner had managed to sneak off and use a flash beacon to enrage a multi-eyed wanderer despite the first cardinal rule of dealing with it stating, do not, under any circumstances, expose the beast to light.  

Alas, the beast concealed its protocore and entered a state far more powerful and erratic than usual. Nothing you couldn't handle, of course. But the same could not be said about your hunting partner, who had ended up with broken limbs as you struggled to juggle three cups: eliminating the wanderer, ensuring it doesn't reach civilian property, and keeping him alive. 

After that, a child mistaking Xavier's tall silhouette for a wanderer had run deeper into the woods as he extended his hand, forcing hunters in that area to halt operations and search for the missing child. Five hours later, they discovered her hiding atop a tree branch, utilizing her small size to blend into the darkness and look just like foliage. 

And just as the two of you had begun settling into your couches, your hunter's watch beeped, and you had been summoned to the association in a hurry. That very night, you had been shipped off to Skyhaven on an emergency mission, sacrificing both your sleep and your precious time that was to be spent cuddling on the couch with your boyfriend.  

Such is the dismal fate of a hunter. 

After this, with neither of you willing to tolerate another disturbance, the two of you planned a movie date the night of your return. Finally, a moment of peace to yourselves. A night that belongs only to the two of you. After a week of unexpected events, today, the day must go according to your plans. 

Except... 

"What's that smell?" 

"Hm?" 

You raised your nose, flaring your nostrils to inhale a large whiff of air.  

"Something's burning." 

Xavier paused the show. The arm slung over your shoulder lifted as he turned in the direction you were facing.  

"Did we..." 

Before he could finish his sentence, your eyes widened. "Xav—th-the popcorn!" 

A part of you knew not to let Xavier near any kitchen appliance, yet it ached you to put such little trust in him as well. After all, he is an adult. Surely, instant popcorn in a microwave wasn't out of his league? You knew him to microwave takeout regularly either way, so, surely this was something well within his capabilities? 

The popcorn came out as a lump of charcoal—almost indecipherable from it—reeking of a strange smell (which you later identified as burnt butter). You weren't sure whether the greater issue was how Xavier set the microwave to 10 minutes on high heat, or how he had dunked the kernels in a full stick of butter.  

In that moment, watching the smoke escape the appliance like winding tentacles, with lungs full of burnt butter, eyes examining the almost alien sight of horribly scorched popcorn, it was almost as if the exhaustion built-up over the week had returned. Or perhaps, it was always there, now only resurfacing from beneath the still waters. But this time, it came with finality. You weren't angry. You couldn't be. At the sight of your lover standing hunched in a corner, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, stealing glances at you with bleary eyes, your heart melted. The annoyance dissipated. Instead, you felt numb. 

Burnt popcorn wasn't a big deal. On a normal day, you'd laugh it off, chalk it up to one of Xavier's many endearing kitchen accidents. But after a week of nothing going your way, the popcorn was the last straw. 

You held the tears back. You dumped the bowl into the bin, paying no mind to the charcoal bouncing off the rim. Only then did Xavier notice the grim look etched upon your countenance. Before you could storm off, he caught your hand in his. 

"Are you... mad?" 

You wiped a few tears with the back of your sleeve. 

"No." 

He loosened his grip, moving his body in front of you.  

"Frustrated?" 

He held his arms open. 

As the tears rushed to overwhelm you, you buried yourself within his arms.  

"It's just!—" you gasped between hiccups, "Nothing has been going our way. It just—" 

"Shh," he pulled you closer until the warmth of his hoodie was all you could feel, "I get it."  

It was only when your sniffles had died down when Xavier released you from his embrace. He held you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes with a determined softness. "Fate tried to tear us apart this whole week, yet, in the end, it led me to your arms once more." 

A soft smile graced your lips. "Maybe she throws tantrums sometimes as well." 

"Mm." Xaviier interlocked your fingers with his. "Together, we're stronger than Gods. So," he snatched another packet of instant popcorn from the counter, "Let's reclaim this night and make it ours." 

Your smile morphed into a grin. "A movie marathon?" 

Xavier nodded. 

"I'll let you choose. But, first," he grabbed a bowl, "Maybe you should give me some pointers this time?"