like the light of the moon

Xavier’s mind zips through every possible (well, bad) scenario he could think of. Are you tired? Did some person approach you? Or what if it was someone at the Hunters’ Association? Did Jenna bring you bad news, he’d have to talk to her later, did you have an injury he didn’t notice (and then he’d know what it feels like for you to see him come home, weary and hurt)…

His thoughts are translated into him turning into you, and gently pulling your hands away from yourself and to him, thumb running circles over the base of your dominant hand. In his gentle voice, worry tight around the edges, he asks, “Did something happen? I know that we were assigned to different missions this time, did you need help, was I not there?”

You look up at your lover, his blue eyes pleading, and you can already imagine the scenarios his mind has conjured. If the roles were switched, you’d do the same. You really can’t, and don’t want to — hide anything from him, do you?

“No, it’s not you,” you reassure him.

You hope he reads between your words — he should know that it could never be his fault, that this time around, your problems are a result of your overthinking mind.

You let out a shaky breath, and you let go of one of his hands, tugging the other so you can lead him to your usual spot near the park’s lake. It’s peaceful enough for a conversation, especially at this time of the day.

“Let’s sit down? I think I just want some fresh air for a bit.”

🌠🌠🌠​

It’s quiet, but your hands remain locked together as you walk to the lakeside. The sky has faded to a dark blue already, and it’s clear enough that you can see the stars. You two sit on the nearby bench, and you shiver at the night breeze, people-watching while thinking about how to explain yourself.

Of course, he notices. So, wordlessly, he removes his white jacket and drapes it around you, hands lingering a moment longer to keep you warm.

The truth is, he doesn’t know what to do.

Falling for you is one thing, being there is another, coaxing you out of your shell when you’ve offered him a crumb of your vulnerability tonight is something he has yet to have experience in. His doubt creeps in— what can he do when he himself is no better, used to all the redirection and hiding Although, that had changed when you showed him patience and grace, that despite his secrecy, all you had ever wanted was to show him the same light he gave you— that you loved him in spite of his past, would hold onto him in this new and unfamiliar present, and that you would fight for a peaceful future, not only for him, but for Linkon.

You want this love with him, and you try for it, despite the weight of the Aether Core in your heart and your—still blurry—past on your shoulders.

Now, it’s his time to comfort you in the way he knows how.

Your hands reach for the jacket around you and you compose yourself, closing your eyes—

“I’m not used to this.”

At the sound of his voice, you give your ocean-eyed boyfriend a soft, nervous smile. A beat.

“You can tell me anything, you know. I promise, I’ll be here to listen.”

“So, you know that one Deepspace Trial, right? The one I’ve been stuck on for a month now?”

He nods. It’s the one you’ve been trying to complete solo. “I follow”

“It’s… honestly pretty dumb, but I think it’s getting to me. I want to just finish it already, and I’ve tried using all the weapons I know, but it’s still not enough.” You slump in your seat, the words leaving you like leaves in the wind.

“I don’t — it’s just that when I keep failing, I… I can’t be patient with myself over this, you know? I’m in Alpha Team, for crying out loud. This is supposed to be easy, and it’s a simulation, and I keep falling behind…” you trail off.

Long fingers coax your bunched-up fist at your side open, your partner’s hand gently squeezing yours.

“I can think of several reasons, but… why did you want to do it alone?”

His tone is inquisitive, not accusing. You have every right to want to do it alone. But the answer to that question involves truths that you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to yourself, because once you say what’s been on your mind, everything else you’ve been feeling will follow. Your chest tightens involuntarily.

A sigh. The faraway look in your eyes, the one that lets him know that you have been thinking about something for far too long.

There’s no point in hiding this.

“I just wanted to prove myself.”

He pauses at your answer, a thoughtful look on his face.

“There’s nothing for you to prove, though. You’re skilled, you’ve handled actual solo missions before, not only simulations… but, if there’s anything you need, you have all my security and weapon clearances. I could train you for it too, if you’d like. After all, the Deepspace Trials were designed to be completed by a pair.”

“Xavier, I know, but…”

You look up as the chill of the night sets in, the dark-activated street lamps flickering on. The two of you remain undisturbed. Yet, his warm gaze doesn’t leave you— just waiting.

“Look, you’re right, I have done these things before, on my own. But if I can’t even hold my own in a simulation now, then what more when we’re out on the field? I shouldn’t be having this hard of a time, it’s so hard to fall asleep, it feels like I can’t stop thinking or moving, or else—”

You pause your rambling, heart in your throat as you remember Xavier, pale and heaving for breath, his Light Evol literally leaking out of him in that imitation of what he had called Starfall Forest. You remember the times he’s come home, wounded, and every time you’d bandaged him up. The cold anger you felt discovering that behind all the recent abnormal Metaflux fluctuations, the same one that nearly took Xavier away from you, was EVER.

The weight of your worry is made heavier by the fear that you would see him for the last time, that if you weren’t strong enough, you’d end up all alone. Just like with the shelter during the Chronorift Catastrophe, just like with Grandma and Caleb—

Another deep breath.

“Or else I won’t be strong enough to protect you.”

To you, the admission of weakness is shame, and you look towards the ground, voice quiet and breaking.

“I wish I was as selfless as you, because I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want anything… not even EVER, or your old squad, to keep us apart. You think I wouldn’t want to protect you the same way you protect me?”

A hand presses against your cheek, softly wiping the tears that have run down in your frustration, and you look up, meeting deep blues and understanding.

At your gaze, Xavier pulls you into his embrace. You lean in— the warmth meaning that his heart is still beating, that he is here, that he is very much alive.

You see sparks fizzle around the edges of his arms, an instant flash of white light, and before you know it, you’re back in your apartment, no longer on a bench but on your couch, Xavier still wrapped around you.

From the corner of your eye, the moonlight shines through your window, and several specks of light have come out to illuminate your apartment, like tiny fireflies. The flight from the park to your space is surprisingly gentle on your senses.

“At first, I didn’t want you to know.”

You feel him mumble into your hair, and slowly, he detaches from you.

“I wanted to protect you too. I thought… that by letting you find out the truth for yourself, I was doing the right thing. But you wanted to trust me, right?”

“I know you want to be strong. I also want to be strong enough for you. But that’s something that we have to do together, not apart.”

The corners of your mouth turn upward, and you let out a small chuckle at the situation. “It takes one to know one, right?”

He places a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’ve showed me that it’s okay to accept help. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But—” the stubborn part of your psyche verbalizes,

“Doesn’t the fact that I always come back show how good you are at keeping me here?”

“That’s different from patching you up, Xav. I don’t want to wait until you get an injury that I can’t stitch together,” you huff.

“That’s why I’ll let you know where I am, and what I’m doing.”

He taps your Hunter’s Watch, opening a small app. “You should check this from time to time, because now you’ll have my coordinates any time you want to look for me.” “But there’s still such a long way to go for me, and I don’t know how to be patient with myself when I’m just so scared—”

He shifts closer. “We’re partners. You don’t need to prove yourself to me, or to anyone else, not even yourself. You’re strong, and just because we don’t know the whole truth behind the explosion doesn’t mean it’s your fault. I promise, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Your hand reaches out to his, instinctively looking for comfort. His fingers interlock with yours.

“What you need, I’ll fill in. I’ll be gentle with you, until you remember what it’s like to be there for yourself, and even after that. I know for a fact that you’ll have my back every time, even if you say that you still aren’t the best. You’ll only go upward from here. But when you place those impossible burdens on your heart…”

A gentle kiss on your forehead, like starlight.

“You’ll also get hurt. And I don’t want that.” He smiles at you reassuringly. “I’m a bit selfish like that too.”

The next words come out in a whisper, only meant for your ears. “Because I love you.”

Stunned, you merely touch your forehead against his, grounding yourself in the moment. Even as life goes on outside your apartment, this time belongs to you and Xavier. Because what is strength, when you hide and keep a stiff upper lip to maintain a facade around the people you love the most? It leaves you hollow from the inside out. Ironically, it’s only when you brought down your walls that you felt so whole — not because you relied on your own composure, but because you allowed yourself to be supported by him— by Xavier. So even if you can’t fully trust yourself just yet, even as the forces that be plot, prepare, and scheme, you’re not alone. Not when he’s right there, by your side.

“I love you too,” you say, quietly.

A promise, a conviction, a hope embodied in 4 words.

But…he can bear the feeling for a few minutes more, because you did promise him that the two of you would go out today. Just a little bit more and he’d be able to spend some alone time with you outside of the Hunter’s Association. He’s always reminded you to adjust the part for life in work-life balance, and he’s glad to be a part of the solution.

So, Xavier goes about his routine. He attempts breakfast, looking for something easy to make lest the fire alarm ring, and settles for pork and beans. After a quick shower, he then pulls on his white jacket, black turtleneck, and jeans and brushes his hair, trying to style it in a way that looked both neat and messy. If you liked the wavy bedhead, surely there was a way to have a more presentable version of that? But despite his attempts, he still ends up with his usual hair. Before you, he wouldn’t have exerted this much effort in getting ready, but knowing that he’s seeing you makes him want to look good in front of you. After spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his keys and wallet, he heads to the 5th floor to meet his partner, probably awake and dressed.

Xavier’s about to ring the doorbell, but a glance at your digital lock reminds him— he could just let himself in. He’d reasoned out not using his fingerprint with “special circumstances,” but the look on your face when you told him you had imagined him using it regularly… right. His hand raps on the door thrice, remembering his promise to knock three times to let you know it was him. He chuckles at the memory, and the way you’d reassured him that he’s the only other person whose fingerprint is registered on your door lock.

To his surprise, though, there’s no smell of food, no indication that you were already awake. He calls out your name.

No response.

After removing his sneakers and putting on his house slippers, the hunter scans your kitchen and living room. The kitchen island and coffee table are clean, and the couch is exactly the way you had left it the morning before you both left for work yesterday. While you did enjoy sleeping in, especially when either of you would stay the night at each other’s respective apartments and had nothing to do the next day, you were usually punctual. It was usually you who’d knock on his door first, only to be greeted by a drowsy Xavier who had just woken up.

Perhaps this was a shift.

Xavier, careful to quiet his steps, pads towards your bedroom. In this unique chain of events, he’d gently rouse you from your slumber, kiss your head, and make you a quick coffee before you get dressed and head out on your date with him. You deserved to relax, and the two of you wouldn’t let a little bit of lateness impede your plans for the day, especially when simply spending time in each other’s presence was enough.

He’s about to put his hand on the knob before the door suddenly bursts open and reveals a frantic you with messy hair and pillow marks on your face.

“What— Xavier!”

You look up, head shifting quickly from his casual getup to the ocean blue of his eyes.

“What time is it? I’m so sorry! I overslept because I got home late and—”

He hears you, but then the signals of his brain tune out your panicked rambling as the first thing he sees after your cute expression is your body enveloped in his white sweater, falling past your hips and reaching mid-thigh. The sheer largeness of it on your frame makes you look smaller than you already are, and his eyes flit over to the way the sleeves cover your hands. Stars, you look nothing short of comfy in his sweater, and he’s inches away from carrying you back to your bed so he could cuddle you for the rest of the morning… or the whole day, even.

Now he’s short-circuiting too.

“Xavier!”

You call his attention.

His brain static goes silent. Oh, was he caught in the act?

You look at him with a pout, expecting a response to your embarrassment over being late and unprepared, because you really did like being On Time, and he knows that, so why isn’t he saying anything? Was he mad? The pout shifts to a resigned frown, and he realizes that he has to rectify the misunderstanding so that you don’t end up thinking things that simply aren’t true, even if he finds you adorable, big sweater and embarrassment and all.

“Come on, just wait on the couch, I need to wash up and change my clothes.”

You’re about to step aside him and move to your bathroom when he suddenly picks you up in a princess carry, hearing your surprised “Huh?!” and depositing you onto the couch. He flops on top of you, head right on your chest where he can hear your heartbeat, and embraces you once again, nuzzling into your warmth.

“Xavi…” your voice takes on a softer tone as you watch him get comfortable. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to go out today.”

He hugs you tighter and burrows his head into your chest and the soft cotton. He smells his usual cologne on the sweater, and smiles at the thought of you falling asleep to his scent. “We will. You’re just too cute. I couldn’t resist.”

Warmth also floods into your cheeks at his response. You look down at your boyfriend, very much happy and comfy, then at your hands, hidden under the white sleeves. “Wait…” you realize. Right, it’s Xavier’s.

Your voice fills the air. “When I got home last night, I just took a shower and changed quickly. Your sweater and my pajamas were the first thing I saw in my closet drawer, so I just took those.”

He feels your hands brush his bangs away, probably to check if he was still awake. He nods. “I’m listening.” He looks up to gaze contentedly at you. “I’m glad you got home safe.”

“You’re also glad I didn’t return your sweater.” You point out.

Xavier hums affirmatively, pleased.

Looking for something to do with your hands, you poke his cheek, then switch to pinching and pulling at it lightly.

“This is what I get for my generosity?” he pouts, and you return your hand to the spot on his back before he can grab it. Xavier hears you chuckle, and well, you’re smiling now, too, so that’s a win in his book. He lets himself sink into the plush of your chest, of you and the couch, and there isn’t anywhere else he wants to be.

“It’s called cute aggression, Xav. Gigil,* if you will.” He adjusts himself upward so that he can slot his head into the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Mhm, is that so?”

Xavier continues cuddling you, listening to your breathing and heartbeat. You feel his arms wrap slightly tighter around your torso, and you resign yourself to running your fingers through his moonlight hair, playing with the strands, while your other free hand settles on his back. The noontime sun begins to stream in through your window, and his hair catches in the light. The two of you stay this way for a few more moments before your shoulder starts to feel numb, because as lovely as holding Xavier is, his height means that he is heavier than you are.

Your voice, again, fills his ears, soft and coaxing. “Xavi, this is really nice. But I want to go to the bookstore. and the park, and the noodle restaurant. Also, heavy.” Xavier acquiesces, always weak for your voice (a simp is what you had once called him), and shifts your positions, the two of you moving around on the couch so that you’re leaning on his chest this time, facing him and snug between his legs.

“Was there anything else you wanted to do today?” He tucks the stray strands of hair behind your ear, locking his ocean blue eyes with yours. “Well… I also wanted to play video games when we got home. Hmm... It Takes Two?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. You’re pretty, he thinks, in his clothes and bathed in sunlight and just doing whatever You does. “We can, but we have all the time in the world right here. You should relax.” He brings another stray lock of hair away from your face, and you sigh contentedly.“

Apart from the fact that I’ve kidnapped your sweater, what else is going on with you?”

“Me?”

He takes a moment to think. Was he acting strangely? Was it weird to be so lovestruck by your girlfriend? Notwithstanding the fact that you were wearing his clothes, he’d always find you cute. And do anything for you in a heartbeat. What did you notice? He would respond with something witty, try to recover some semblance of calm and collected Xavier, but the earnestness in his heart makes him honest, and he looks in your eyes again.

“I just missed you.”

“Silly, it was just a night.” “Still. Unless you didn’t miss the person you left behind.” He feels your hand smooth the parts of his hair you played with earlier, and you tilt your head up to kiss him. Upon feeling your lips on his, he returns the kiss. Xavier then moves his hand to your lower back, supporting you as you lean towards him again. Your hand rests on his shoulder while the other cups his face, bringing him closer to you. One kiss becomes two, and three, and you feel his tongue run across your lip before you move away, the two of you already gasping for air.

“Xavier,” He looks at you again, his guiding starlight and the reason he wakes up in the mornings. You feel his hand moving from your arm to your hand, thumb stroking the back of your palm, and you grin. You hope he knows how adored, how loved he makes you feel. “Dummy. Of course I missed you too.” Xavier gives a relaxed chuckle, and pulls you in again for a hug before kissing the top of your head.

Maybe this was devotion too. Sometimes, he doesn’t recognize himself, but if it’s someone that you’re still willing to love and miss— he’s perfectly fine with change.

And this was, a good start to the very good day Xavier and his girlfriend would have.

A/N: *Gigil: Filipino term for cute aggression. that's how i first understood cute aggression anyway so i decided to use my native language haha

“I’ll pull out now, okay?” You nod, and you smile at him, dazed, but very much relieved. 

A soft moan leaves your lips as he parts from you, shared release sticking to both your bodies and dripping to the towel you left on the bed. Your hand shifts to squeeze his, trying to ground yourself. God knows what time it is— after all the guests had left and had given their well-wishes, the two of you rushed to the hotel room, with matching rings on your fingers. The nearby late-night cafes near your suite had quieted down, and the few city lights from the window and your nightlamp cast their gentle light across your face.

You’re beautiful, he thinks. He lifts your hand to plant a kiss on your palm. It’s a stroke of luck written in the stars— to see every expression and version of you. He promised to find you in every lifetime, and he’s still in disbelief— you’re right here in front of him. Whether you’re breathless and blissed out, or composed and focused, you’re beautiful. Xavier doesn’t think he deserves the way you look at him— like he’s hung the moon and stars just for you. He would, had he the power to. For now, he can promise this: he’ll protect you, take care of you, and hold you close for as long as he can. The mark and the ring is a promise to make you happy for the rest of your time together. This time, he’s staying by your side.

His eyes sparkle with so much love that you’re taken aback for a moment. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. So instead of asking, you press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, and he chuckles, kissing back.

I don’t deserve this. And yet, you chose him.

“My pretty,” a kiss to your forehead. “Gorgeous,” another to your cheekbone. “Girl.” Right cheek. “My love.” A sweet kiss on your lips. “My star,” Another right on the tip of your nose. “My wife, so good for me.”

“Xavier…” you pull your lover in for a hug, wanting to remain near him. You sigh as you breathe in his scent. If this is what it’s like to be bonded— claimed for life— then you don’t want to let go.

He brings his hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek, and smiles. Because just as much as he loves to bring you to heaven, he’ll be your ground, take you down safely.

“I’ll get you water, okay? Then after that, I’ll draw us a bath, and get you clean. How does that sound?” The words settle into your mind, sinking, before you finally comprehend them and nod. He kisses your palm again before he gets up slowly and leaves for the kitchen.

A few minutes pass. As the fog begins to clear, the stickiness between your legs becomes much more apparent to you.

Ah… what a mess.

And Xavier… he’d come back, wouldn’t he? The air feels too cold, all of a sudden, and you feel a dull ache in your limbs. You stretch your arms a little, adjusting our position on the bed so you can sit up. But you know you couldn’t stand if you tried. Where is he? You want to hold him, and be held in return while your brain is still on its way down from the high you’ve experienced. The left side of your neck stings a little, and you hiss when you touch it briefly.

Right on time, your husband comes into your shared bedroom with a jug of cold water. A look of worry crosses his face, and he immediately moves closer to check on you.

“Are you… hurt? Was I too rough?”

You shake your head and cough before you start speaking. You really could use the water that Xavier brought. “It’s nothing… the mark just hurts a little, but I’m okay. My fault for touching it when it’s fresh.” Knowing how he gets, you give him a reassuring smile.

The frown remains.

“Xavi, I’m okay, I promise.”

To calm him down, you rub your nose lightly against his and release some of your scent pheromones. The familiar blend of vanilla and lavender is a a warm blanket over his worry, wrapping around it and letting him know you really are alright.

“I’ll get you some ointment later,” he quietly says. Sometimes you think he worries too much about you, but nonetheless, you appreciate his care. It’s cute, and very much Xavier, how he still looks out for you in times like these. Xavier then lifts the jug to your lips, and you take the cue, drinking from it. “Careful now, don’t drink too fast.” He lets go of the jug once you grip it yourself. As you drink, he gazes at you fondly, hand lifting to smooth your hair a little. You don’t need to look in the mirror to see that you’re wrecked, love bites all over you, but unbeknownst to you, you’re a picture of satisfaction. Xavier glances at the mirror, then back at you. So, so pretty. My mate. All mine. Does she know I’m all hers?

From the corner of his eye, he spots the mark he asked you to leave on him. It’s not going to last, an Omega doesn’t have the same canines an Alpha does. But it doesn’t matter. He wants you to know he’s all yours just as much as you’re his.

When you’re finished, you set the almost-empty jug on the side table. “Ready?” Xavier reaches out a hand to you and asks. Confused, your eyebrows knit together, wondering if he really did expect you to be able to walk after he essentially pummeled you into the bed.

“I mean, I can try walking— wait!”

Suddenly, his hand loops around your legs and torso, lifting you in a bridal carry, and the two of you laugh as he brings you to the bathroom.

“Idiot.” Your eyes crinkle as you tease him. “Making me think that I’d have to walk when you know I can’t.” Xavier smiles cheekily and sets you down on the edge of the bathtub before grabbing a washcloth, bringing it under the sink. “I’d never do anything of the sort. Now that I’m your husband, you should always presume kindness on my part,” he quips.

“Do you want me to clean you up or would you rather do it yourself?” Always mindful, always caring of your boundaries, even if he wants nothing more than to be close to you.

“I don’t mind. C’mere.”

He then brings the washcloth to your center, cleaning up the worst of the mess. He runs the rag gently, eyes growing just a shade darker as he cleans the evidence of your… previous activities. Cute.

“You’re trying not to laugh.”

“Am not.” You stifle another giggle.

“Mhm. Just as much as hotpot is served cold and you stop staying up late .”

The corners of your lips turn up in a grin Xavier knows all too well. “And the reason why I’m up late tonight is right in front of me!” At that, you squish his face, gently shaking his head. Even if his face is puffed up because of you, his blue eyes gleam with a joy that’s reserved for when he sees you happy.

After you let go of him, he swipes your inner thighs a few more times, then quickly turns to get the bath ready.

You watch him, pouring the bubble bath mix into the water. My alpha, you think. Xavier is all strong and aloof on the outside, when he’s out on missions with you. People at the Association marvel at his mysterious aura and skill in killing Wanderers. Whether or not he clocks in at HQ, you hear people talk about him, about how the Association’s poster boy is so handsome, but barely mingles, asking questions like “How hard does he train?” and “Does he have a partner?” They don’t even know about the off-the-clock trips he takes to the No-Hunt Zone. And now, said most feared hunter is married and mated to you, preparing a bubble bath, making sure the water isn’t too cold nor hot. He reminds you to take breaks, and invites you to read comic books and stargaze when you can’t sleep. Of course, you can’t forget about how he brings you pleasure and pain in equal measure, right where you want it, and takes you back to Earth after. The dim light of the bathroom and the sound of running water add to the lull of the scene. A warm, fuzzy feeling rises in your chest, and you gaze fondly at him. My mate. Does he know how lovely he is?

Absentmindedly, you reach out to trace the scratches on his back, as if to remind yourself that the man you’ve been thinking about is very much real and in front of you.

“Ow,” he shifts slightly. Oops. As an apology, you kiss the red marks softly. “Sorry…”

“It didn’t hurt that much.” “Still. I was just… lost in thought, or something.” He closes the tap, and the two of you get in the bathtub. You adjust to make room for him, backside facing his chest. In the water, his hands automatically wrap around your waist, and he kisses your bond mark again. The two of you ease back into the comfortable lull a shared night bath provides. It’s warm and quiet, the water on your skin refreshing. You sigh. All is right in the world.

“Are you okay?” Xavier pipes up.

“Mhm. Good. Very good, in fact.” You lean back on his shoulder as you soak, trying not to fall asleep as Xavier nuzzles into your neck.

After a while, he squeezes your hands to rouse you from your semi-nap. He adjusts and sits up, grabbing the shower head and shampoo to wash your hair. His hands are firm, yet they rub your scalp in a way that makes you shut your eyes in calm bliss. When he finishes, you turn around to take the showerhead from him.

“Could I… wash your hair too?”

Your partner’s eyes crinkle as he lets out an airy laugh, because of course you’d ask, never content with being the only one doted on in the relationship; it’s fair that you show him how much you love him as well. He hums as you lather the shampoo in his scalp, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure, and right here, he thinks, is home. Anywhere you are is where he’s happy, content — whether the two of you are in the regular life-or-death situations you subject yourselves to as Hunters or are out relishing time as normal people, passing by the park on the way home from a busy day, having dinner together— and now you’re bound together for the rest of your life.

“I love you,” he says softly, and leans his head back.

“Sappy.” You chuckle, and kiss the matching mark on his neck,

“Isn’t it normal for a husband to tell his wife that he loves her?” Oh. There it is, the pout and the puppy dog eyes you know so well.

You wash off the last of the suds from his silvery hair and acquiesce to your adorable husband. “Okay, okay. I love you too.”

The water’s gone cold already, and Xavier kisses your temple before he leaves the tub. You soak for a few more moments before he returns, dressed, carrying with him one of his shirts, your underwear, and pajamas. He carefully dries you off, making sure the towel is especially gentle around your bond mark, and dresses you before carrying you back to the bed. The towel you’ve used and the top bedsheet are in a pile somewhere in one of the suite’s closets, and his suit and your gown are folded somewhere on top of the luggage. He sets you gently on the plush bed, before pulling the covers over you and himself. On instinct, you snuggle into him, cozy.

“Xavier, thank you.”

He responds by pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head. “I should be thanking you.”

“If we keep this up, we’ll never stop.”

“Isn’t that why we got married?” He hums thoughtfully, this time another song, one he had played for you on the piano years ago, as he strokes your hair.

You pull yourself up, nuzzling and sniffing at his neck sleepily.

“I still smell like you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “Mhm, I just… want you near.”

Any more closer and Xavier is positive that you’ll merge yourself into him, but he remains silent, as maybe the idea doesn’t sound bad at all.

By a stroke of luck, the stars aligned to bring them together, him and his starlight. Your breathing slows as you begin to fall asleep.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You smile. “I love you too, Xavier.”

The two of you drift into the land of dreams.

A/N: this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever published. man. anyway stay hydrated friends. merry christmas :3