cait

From the moment he saw those two lines on the pregnancy test right until now, in your third trimester, as you waddled through the house, his hand supporting your lower back, he’d become the very definition of a helicopter husband. You couldn’t lift a finger in his presence and your self sufficient habits – like insisting on clambering up on a chair and changing the burnt out globes – were a thing of the past. Even after hours in surgery, Zayne would rush home every evening to make sure you had a hearty dinner, a warm bath and you were comfortably in bed by nine pm.

“I really am stuffed, I can’t have anymore.” You grumbled from your seat at the dining table while your husband stubbornly shovelled another helping of pasta into your plate.

“I packed it full of vegetables darling,” Zayne smiled gently, setting the plate down in front of you “good for you and the little one.”

“The little one and I are too full for more.” You frowned at him, pushing the plate away.

For the most part, you were a bit annoyed with the changes the pregnancy had brought to your life. Of course you were more than ecstatic to be having a baby, but the combination of Zayne’s hovering, your lack of independence and the unpredictable hormones, it was definitely getting to you in more ways than one. So you tended to be a bit snappy and stubborn with him, rejecting most of his coddling since you still wanted at least a semblance of normality in your rapidly changing life. You knew these moments wouldn’t last forever, but overall you were just overwhelmed by how suddenly you didn’t feel like you anymore.

“You’re sure?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“For the tenth time, yes.” You said sharply, standing up from the table.

“Alright, then I can come massage your le-“

“Just leave me alone.” You snapped at him.

His dark eyes watched quietly as you walked away and retreated to your shared bedroom. He sighed deeply, focusing his attention instead on cleaning up the table.

When he finally mustered up the courage to come to bed, he found you under the covers with your back to him. He slowly lifted the blanket and climbed in, careful not to make any noise in case you were already asleep. As if sensing his hesitance, you rolled over to face him, your tired face illuminated by the lamp on his nightstand. He couldn’t help the smile that crept up onto his face; he found you so beautiful even when you were being moody with him.

“I didn’t mean to be annoying earlier.” He said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“It’s okay, I was being a bit of a jerk.” You smiled sheepishly, despite your mind still racing.

“You deserve to be a jerk when I keep pestering you,” Zayne joined in on your quiet laughter, “but you have been noticeably upset lately.”

“Well… we just hit the seven month mark and… I’m feeling more useless than ever.”

“What?” He immediately sat up a bit, staring at you in disbelief, “you’re carrying a whole human being inside of you and you think you’re useless?”

“God, you know what I mean,” you groaned, shifting to sit up against the headboard as well, “of course i’m the happiest woman in the world right now knowing our baby is almost here but… throughout this entire experience I feel like I've lost a part of myself along the way.

“My whole thing was being the strong one, the independent one, the one everyone could rely on,” you bit your lip as you looked at him intently, “even with us, I was the one person where you could finally relax and be taken care of, the person who took you away from your demanding schedule and never ending list of responsibilities.

“And yet now, I’m just another responsibility… and I feel so useless…”

“Darling, look at me.” Zayne said calmly once he’d listened to your tearful rant.

You looked up to see him with a sad smile on his lips, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

“You are still the strongest person I know, and I’m even more in awe now knowing that while you’re going through this extremely difficult experience, you’re still thinking about everyone else,” he scooted closer, “besides the obvious, you haven’t changed a bit to me… you’re so amazing to me and after all you’ve done to look after me and everyone else you love, darling, you deserve this time to let me take over.

“Don’t ever think that you’re useless because what you’ve done your entire life and what you’re doing right now is just a perfect indication of how strong you are and I love you more and more each day,” he let go of your hand to cup the side of your face, “so for these last few months, please just let me baby the woman who’s carrying my baby.”

His final words made you giggle, cut off only by a soft and quick peck to your lips.

“Well you know what, I wouldn’t mind being a bit babied right now.” You admitted gently, once your giggles had subsided.

“Come here then.” He said gruffly, pulling you into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You peered closer, trying to get a look at the pajamas.

“These aren’t the ones I picked.” Sylus’ deep voice was as calm as ever, indicating that he wasn’t too bothered by the mishap.

With that lacklustre reaction you assumed it wasn’t anything major. Maybe the wrong colour? Maybe a pattern or print that went unnoticed when making the purchase? But then your husband finally peeled the garment out of its confines and all you saw was a blur of black mesh and red feathers. Your eyes instantly widened; that was definitely not what he ordered.

“What is that?” You blurted out in shock before you could stop yourself.

Sylus held up the material, now fully visible as a fancy, feathery and revealing robe, more fitting for an evil rich housewife from a 50s movie than the cunning and intimidating leader of a criminal organisation. Evidently less horrified by the error, Sylus let out an amused laugh and even held up the robe to his body to check the size.

“It should fit perfectly darling.” He teased.

“There must’ve been a mistake,” you went to shoot a glare towards Kieran and Luke but the two had long since bolted out of the room once they realised they’d probably messed up the order, “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Return it? Are you saying you don’t want to see me in something so sexy?” Sylus chuckled, standing up and throwing the robe over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sexy, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see you in it.” You sighed and, despite feeling a slight buzz of excitement at the prospect of seeing the rugged man in something so feminine, you followed him to the master bedroom.

You clicked the door shut behind you and Sylus was already discarding himself of his pajamas, leaving him in a pair of black boxer shorts as he slipped on the gown. You had to admit it to yourself, he looked breathtaking in that sultry robe. Then again, your husband could wear a trash can and your mouth would still be watering.

The dark, sheer material gave you a perfectly discreet view of his toned muscles and it didn’t help that the ribbon to tie the front shut was simply too small for him. With a satisfied grin, Sylus turned to face you with his hands on his hips, showing himself off in all his glory. You immediately took back your earlier words; it was sexy.

“Now if you wanted so badly to see me in something this daring you could’ve just asked, kitten.” His words strung out in that lazy but charming drawl that made you weak in the knees.

“I swear I didn’t order it on purpose, Kieran and Lu—“

“I’m only teasing darling,” Sylus chuckled darkly, his hands settling on your waist to draw you in closer, “but, judging by your reaction, I think we both agree that I shouldn’t return it?”

“You do look handsome, dear.” You finally admitted, melting into his arms like you always did.

His long fingers traced patterns on your lower back, tugging you closer until you collided with his bare chest. You instinctively pressed your hands against his broad shoulders, looking up into his eyes expectantly. The silent communication was all the motivation he needed to dip his head down and capture your lips in a tantalising kiss that sent your mind spiralling. After so many years together, it still amazed you how he could kiss your breath away, how the simplest of actions sent you into overdrive. And Sylus knew just the right buttons to push you over the edge at every single chance he got.

Time was lost on you. You didn’t even remember how long it took until your back was pressed against the silky maroon bedsheets, your silver haired lover hovering over you with a mischievous smirk on his lips. He didn’t bother undressing you fully — your nightgown hiked up towards your chest was enough for him. He peppered tender kisses all over your skin, a sharp contrast to his fingers working tirelessly between your legs. Your hands gripped the hem of your lacey nightie, soft pants leaving your lips and your pupils blown wide, fixated on your dutiful husband.

“We should order another robe for you so we can match, kitten,” Sylus said sweetly, his lips against your ear, despite what he was doing to you, “you’d look so so pretty hmm?”

“Mmm.” You answered in a daze, your hips squirming against the mattress as his fingers kept a slow, agonising pace.

Eventually you saw stars, his voice muffled and drowned out by the sheer pleasure. Your legs shook with your release, his name escaping you in the form of a soft whimper that made his heart swell with an inexplicable amount of affection. His skilled hand slowed his ministrations, letting you calm down before he finally eased back. He found you so beautiful like that, breathless and satisfied but always ready for more. He couldn’t help but bring his fingers to his lips, tasting the woman he loved more than anything while keeping his intense gaze on you.

After admiring you for a second longer, he settled himself between your thighs and dropped his head down for another loving kiss that spoke volumes of how much he loved and adored you. You tasted bitter essence of yourself on his lips, making you groan softly. His strong arms embraced you completely as his hips began to move slowly, careful not to overwhelm you. Somehow he always managed to be gentle and patient yet still filled all of your senses, your entire being engulfed by him and only him. You locked eyes with him, your arms draped around his neck as your heart hammered against your chest and the sweat clung to your forehead. That blessed robe was still on, the ridiculous feathers brushing against your fingertips as he picked up speed. You should’ve been laughing at how outrageous he looked, but you couldn’t when he was sending you to heaven and back.

“You’re close, kitten?” He asked gruffly, his movements becoming a bit sporadic.

“Yes…”

When you reached your second climax of the night, Sylus followed shortly after, letting out a deep groan that vibrated in your ears. He gently rested his exhausted body on top of yours, comfortably burying his face in your chest while his hands caressed your exposed sides.

“Can you take this thing off now?” You asked with no real conviction, tugging at the robe.

“If this is the effect it had on you, not a chance.”

RAFAYEL

in your relationship, you never had the opportunity to initiate any physical intimacy because rafayel always beat you to it. he was clingy, in an endearing way, that always left you flustered. oh how you wished to wipe that smug look off his face and for once have him be the one taken aback. the opportunities to catch him off guard didn’t come often, but you were ready to take any chance you got. so you planned your surprise for days on end; a cute new lingerie set and an array of his favourite scented candles that would surely make him melt.

but of course, your always observant boyfriend caught you out immediately and you watched in horror as he pulled the hidden lingerie out from under the bed.

“you can’t fool m—“

he cut himself off when he saw the smile on your face. it wasn’t your usual smile, he could instantly tell that you were genuinely upset. it was a look that he hated seeing on your pretty face.

“um actually cutie? could you go put this on for me?” he asked softly, holding the garment out to you.

the rosy blush that appeared on his cheeks was enough to flip your mood.

SYLUS

kieran and luke were like your little brothers and you loved cooking for them. they were the perfect blend of sweet and annoying, but unfortunately that evening they preferred to be the latter.

“i can do it!” kieran yelled.

“i’ll do it better!” luke countered before a lump of pizza dough went flying into the air.

at that point, the blank look on your face would’ve had anyone believing you had everything under control. you quietly busied yourself stirring the sauce on the stove, your expression serene as kieran and luke continued to bicker and make a mess of the kitchen.

when sylus strolled in, his sharp eyes immediately took notice of your distance demeanour and he knew you were becoming overstimulated.

“i just got new tires on the bike,” sylus exclaimed, grabbing the two boys’ attention instantly, “go break them in for me.”

“on it boss!” the duo said in unison before darting out of the kitchen.

sylus silently walked closer to you, pressing a kiss to your head before leaving you to cook in peace.

CALEB

it started off as a harmless joke. caleb would hide your things on the highest shelves from time to time, forcing you to either clamber up the kitchen counters or ask him for help. you usually laughed it off, knowing your boyfriend loved to play silly pranks on you. but, after a long, debilitating day at work, you weren’t in the mood.

your eyes stared at the jar of peanut butter taunting you from the upper cabinet and you had to hold back your frustration. half expecting to see you already climbing up to retrieve the jar, caleb stopped in his tracks. just from your still figure, your back facing him, he knew you were pissed.

he rushed into the kitchen and scooped you up into your arms. he held you up around your waist while he used his other hand to grab the peanut butter before you reached your breaking point.

A week into the trip and the most excitement you get is from looking up from your permanent spot on the veranda every night and seeing that guy; studying him, but never having the courage to go up to him. He's a friend of Tara's boyfriend - who had invited a whole band of rowdy men to join you all at the chalet - and seemingly the only other person not looking to get hammered every night. He usually keeps to himself, sharing awkward smiles and small talk with anyone who bothered to try. A few of your girl friends tried chatting him up but he always seemed blank and oblivious to anyone’s advances. Tara's boyfriend insisted his friend - Xavier you recall his name is - is just shy, but it's pretty easy to mistake his demeanour for being rude. That’s one of the reasons you refuse to approach him; someone like you would rather fall off the face of the earth before you get embarrassed by some man. The other reason is simple; you may be shyer than Xavier claims to be.

You watch the unruly volleyball match reach its dramatic climax for a moment before looking back up at the balcony. Your stomach does a somersault when you see Xavier staring right back at you, those cold blue eyes appearing otherworldly. His expression is blank, as always, and you can’t decide whether he's angry or confused or both. You can’t even gauge how long you stare back at him before you eventually drop your gaze back down to the glass in your hand. Looking for a distraction, you take a big gulp of the drink and grimace. The alcohol burns through you, contrasting with the cold evening wind nipping at your skin - clearly more gin than tonic. You lift your head up adventurously and find Xavier still staring down at you, but this time he seems… amused? A small smile plays on his pale pink lips, not quite reaching his eyes as he eventually turns his attention back to the stars.

You can’t seem to look away, stuck to his presence like a moth to a fly, until you notice him touch his nose carefully. He inspects his long, slender fingers for a moment before dropping to the floor in a heap. You jump to your feet in shock, looking around to see if anyone else noticed him collapse, but your surroundings remain completely unchanged. You feel your heart caught in your throat as you haul yourself into the villa and bustle up the stairs. The music is muffled in your ears, as though you’re underwater. Your body feels extremely hot, whether from the sudden rush of alcohol or panic, you’re not too sure. You swing the bedroom door open to find the lanky man still very much unconscious, his body slumped against the balcony railing and a drying streak of crimson blood coming out of his nose. You squat down and attempt to get him into a seated position, your heart hammering against your ribcage like an enraged beast. You’ve never been one to act well under pressure so poor Xavier has to deal with a series of scared pats to his face and a soft mantra of Wake Up, Wake Up before he finally comes to. His eyes eventually flutter open, lazy but still sharp as he takes in your face. Looking at them up close, you feel as though you can see the entire universe in them. A sky full of stars.

The moment is cut short when you hear a pair of unsteady footsteps approaching the room followed by Tara's voice.

“Y/n? You in here?”

You stand up abruptly and rush to meet her in the doorway. Hopefully even in her tipsy state, she’ll be able to be of some assistance to Xavier.

“Tara! Come in, Xavier just fainted!” You exclaim in your panicked state, watching as she strolls in and steadies herself against the wall.

“Xavier? What happened?” She slurs, her eyes scanning over the bedroom.

“He’s right h-”

You cut your own words off as you turn around and see that Xavier isn’t on the balcony where you had just left him. In fact, he's not anywhere in the bedroom.

“Nice try, I’m not that drunk.” Tara giggles before sauntering back downstairs, leaving you in a state of confusion.

You stand there for a moment in complete disbelief. You’re definitely not drunk enough to be hallucinating so where on earth did this boy disappear to? The answer to your silent question comes in the form of a small grunt behind the en suite bathroom door. You stay quiet, slowly hovering closer to the door. More shuffling, then a small, almost inaudible curse under his breath. I reach my hand out and carefully knock three times. There’s a defeaning silence that follows, as though he were holding his breath, before he knocks three times in return. You almost laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

“Xavier?” You say gently, his name so foreign on your lips.

He doesn’t respond so you take it upon yourself to just open the door, revealing his tall, imposing figure backed up against the basin. The sharpness in his eyes is completely gone. Instead, he looks like a white short haired cat caught in the middle of something they aren’t supposed to be doing. He zeroes in on me, startled, a soggy clump of toilet paper stuffed in his nose. His entire face and hair is damp as if he shoved his head right under the faucet.

He looks cute, and in any other case you would’ve fixated on that fact. But now, in this context, you need more answers than anything.

“Are you alright?” You ask without really thinking much of it. It seems like the appropriate thing to say after the man was just unconscious a few minutes ago.

“I’m fine,” Xavier responds in a hoarse but soothing voice, standing up to his full height, “you’re Y/n right?”

You’re a bit taken aback that he even remembered your name after the initial round of mandatory introductions several days ago. It’s not like you ever spoke to him, and you didn’t exactly consider yourself the kind of person that’s worth remembering.

“Yeah, I’m Y/n,” you reply awkwardly, watching him discard the tissue from his nose and dry his face with the hand towel hanging next to the sink, “do you um… black out like that often?”

You flinch as he lets out a small, amused laugh. It’s so subtle, almost under his breath, but you don’t miss it.

“I guess you could say that,” he explains, turning around to face you, “it’s happened a few times lately but I usually recover fine.”

“You recover fine? If it happens more than once, that doesn’t mean you’ve recovered at all,” you look at him in horror, your shyness replaced with bewilderment, “don’t you think you should see a doctor about this?”

“I don’t think a doctor will be of any assistance,” Xavier chuckles again, brushing past you as he exits the bathroom, “I’m fine really, you can go back down to the party.”

You study him for a moment as he strolls to the bed in the middle of the room, taking a seat on the edge. His legs are lazily spread apart and he leans back on his palms, watching you right back as you exit the bathroom after him. He doesn’t look as intimidating up close. His features are soft, a small nose and mouth overshadowed by those crystal blue eyes. Something about him draws you in that your feet refuse to carry you back to the safety of your lounger on the deck.

“Why did you hide yourself in the bathroom?” You ask curiously, slowly pacing around the room. His eyes follow your every move and it makes your muscles tense.

“I wasn’t hiding.” He lies calmly, making you shake your head.

“Yes you were.” You argued stubbornly.

“Fine I… I didn’t want anyone else to worry about me,” he responds convincingly, “they’re all having fun, I don’t want to bother them with nothing.”

“Having a nosebleed and passing out isn’t nothing.” You mumble, holding back the eye roll.

“Thanks,” he says, a hint of amusement still laced in his tone, “it’s nice that someone came to check on me.”

“It’s no problem.” You answer automatically, even though the whole situation is leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed.

There’s a long pause between the two of you. Complete silence save for the muffled music coming from downstairs and loud shrieks and chatter from our friends.

“Do you want to have a drink?” He asks suddenly, breaking the awkward tension.

“Huh?” You respond before mentally face palming.

He stands up, his demeanour calm and comforting. “Do you want to have a drink? With me?”

“Um… yeah sure.” You nod, timidly following him out of the room and padding down the stairs.

The music grows louder as you approach the messy kitchen. The pool has been abandoned and most of your friends have turned the living room into a makeshift dance floor.

“What’s your drink of choice?” Xavier asks politely, standing at the island and inspecting through the many bottles scattered around the marble countertop.

“What’s yours?” You ask in return, sitting up on one of the barstools, “I like anything that tastes nice.”

“I’ve never come across alcohol that tastes nice,” he smiles, shaking his head as he opts for pouring two glasses of whiskey and lemonade, “I don’t really have a preference, meaning I don’t like anything.”

“That’s a good answer,” you find yourself laughing softly, “I don’t like the feeling of being drunk or tipsy.”

“You don’t like not being in control? Or you’re scared you might embarrass yourself?” Xavier peers at you through his lashes, sliding a glass across the counter to you.

“A bit of both,” you hum thoughtfully, “and why don’t you like it?”

“If I drink too much I might just die.”

He says it so nonchalantly that you barely register anything. You sip the whiskey before frowning at him.

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”

“It’s not dramatic, it’s the truth,” he shrugs, “if I have too much to drink, I might collapse like earlier but never wake up.”

“You’re so morbid.” You laugh gently.

“Apologies, I don’t know how to act around pretty girls.”

You almost choke on your drink as you catch sight of his playful smirk. You can’t even believe that this is the same guy that was so blank and standoffish towards everyone else in the house. It makes you a bit self conscious that you’re even able to have a conversation with him that’s lasting more than ten minutes. And for him to call you pretty? He must be drunk - which explains why he passed out and why he’s being so bold. Even if you didn’t witness him drink anything else tonight, it’s what you have to tell yourself. For your own sanity.

“I hate whiskey.” You say shyly, trying to change the topic.

“Yeah me too.” He agrees as you clink your glasses together.

—

Three glasses of whiskey put you to bed earlier than you had hoped. Your only triumph last night was knowing Xavier fell asleep much faster than you, albeit during your very interesting dissertation on the Madagascar trilogy. Another thing of note; you fell asleep in his bed and that is a huge deal for someone who shudders at the mere thought of sitting next to a strange man.

But Xavier is different, in a good and bad way. Good because he’s clearly about to make this vacation a lot more bearable. It’s comforting to have at least one person on the same page as you and not have to completely dissociate on your own. Bad because he’s too comfortable. Despite his detached personality overall, you feel so at peace talking to him, as if you’d been good friends for a long time.

Like right now - if on any other occasion you had woken up in an unfamiliar bed with a blonde haired blue eyed man just watching you as you slept, you would be terrified. You’d probably scream and bolt out of his bed before he could explain himself. But as the sun peeks through the blinds and your face scrunches in a tired frown, your eyes flutter open and your first reaction is to smile at him.

“Good morning.” Xavier says groggily, despite looking like he’s been awake for a while. His morning voice is even more crisp and quiet, if that’s even possible.

“Good morning,” you reply gently, already feeling a pounding headache come over you, “sorry I just invaded your space, I don’t usually do that.”

“That’s alright,” he huffs out a small laugh, sitting up against the pillows, “I enjoyed your company last night.”

“I did too,” you respond genuinely before you find yourself just rambling on without thinking, “if i’m being honest I didn’t really want to come on this vacation you know? It’s awkward being around so many people but still feeling isolated.”

“I know, you said that last night.” Xavier gives you a playful smirk.

“I did?”

“Yes, along with something about how I should never call you pretty again because you’ll start planning our wedding.” Xavier drones on so monotonously as if he’s reciting a grade school speech and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

“I was joking of course,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting up straight and letting the blanket pool around your waist, “I’m staying away from whiskey for the rest of this trip.”

“So it’s true then, that you avoid letting loose, partying, drinking because you’re scared of how people will perceive you,” Xavier yawns as though he isn’t just reading you like an open book, “now you’re feeling bad about last night because you didn’t have full control of how you acted.”

“Your point is?” Your voice is small and your eyes refuse to meet his. It’s way too early for a therapy session with a guy you just officially met the night prior.

“For the remainder of this trip, if we’re going to be each other's company…” Xavier scoots a bit closer, “I don’t want you to worry about what I think of you, and likewise I want to be genuine with you.”

“You’re saying this like it’s some kind of pact.” You lift your head finally to look at him, his expression completely unreadable.

“I don’t know you that well, but I see a lot of myself in you,” Xavier gnaws on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully before sighing, “my whole life, I’ve felt too awkward or afraid to be my authentic self, even in crowds of people who know me, people who are meant to be my friends, I’ve never let myself out of hiding.”

“So what you’re saying is… for this vacation we should just let loose for once?” You tilt your head curiously.

“I’m not asking you to take your clothes off and start dancing on tables,” Xavier chuckles in amusement, “but I think for the next two weeks we can just be our genuine selves, no judgement.”

“So I won’t judge you and you won’t judge me?” You unconsciously smile at the somewhat childish agreement.

“Promise?” Xavier holds out a graceful pinky finger at you.

“Promise.” You agree, locking your pinky with his.

“Alright, starting now, tell me something you’re too embarrassed to tell everyone else.” Xavier stares at you intently and suddenly you feel under pressure for an interesting fact from your otherwise mundane existence.

“Um… well I love music, like to dance and sing along but I feel awkward and stiff in front of other people because you know like it’s more fun in a group of friends but I feel self conscious if I dance too hard or sing too loud so I just end up stiff and…” You trail off when you catch his small smile and realise how you’d been rambling.

“Hmm i don’t think this is just about singing, you’re too scared to be loud figuratively and literally.” Xavier pulls the covers off and stretches his arms above his head, arching his broad back covered by an oversized hoodie.

“Your turn.”

“My turn?” He looks towards you, his eyes still a bit sleepy.

“Yeah, tell me something you’re embarrassed to say to the others.”

“Oh that’s easy,” he gets up from the bed and yawns softly, “I’m actually not from this planet.”

It takes a good minute for his words to settle in your brain, and another minute for your brain to decide if he’s attempting a joke or not. Your initial reaction is to laugh it off, frowning at him in confusion.

“If that’s supposed to be a joke then I don’t get it.”

“It’s not a joke,” he responds immediately, strolling to the bathroom, “if we’re being our authentic selves then… I should let you know something that no one else knows.”

“Are you insane?” You ask abruptly without even noting how sharp your tone is.

If Xavier notices your attitude, he doesn’t show it. He just blinks slowly and opens the bathroom door.

“We said no judgement right?”

“Yeah?” You stand up from the bed almost automatically, your heart sinking for some reason.

“Then let me show you something.”

Your feet answer him before your mind can and you walk towards the en suite where he’s waiting.

“Why are we in the bathroom?” You stand a good few feet away from him, not that you’re particularly worried he’ll do something to harm you, but more so because he doesn’t seem to be joking around.

Does this guy seriously think he’s an alien?

“Well you don’t seem to believe that I’m not from this planet so I guess I have to prove it to you.” He says calmly before grabbing the hem of his oversized and starting to pull it up over his head.

“Hey! Hey!” You immediately wave your hands out to stop him before you opt for turning around and closing your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hear him chuckle quietly from behind you.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” You ask in an accusatory manner, “you may as well be an alien because a normal person wouldn’t just start stripping naked in front of someone they just met.”

“Plenty of normal people hook up with complete strangers,” Xavier comments rather tiredly, “and besides, I’m not naked.”

“So you are trying to hook up with me?”

“No I’m not.”

You stand there for a few seconds, stupidly staring at the gray tiled walls before pivoting back around to look at him. He isn’t naked, as promised, but he’s discarded his shirt and you get a full view of his lean, pale torso and defined arms. However, you’re more distracted by the strange markings adorning his ribcage, running all the way down to his waist. They’re simple, dark scales, all neatly arranged in descending sizes with the longest one tracing over his hip bones. They look like tattoos – an interesting artistic choice but you’re not sure what this has to do with him claiming to be an alien.

“What am I looking at?” You ask curiously.

“These markings are genetic to my kind,” Xavier explains, his voice composed as if he’s informing you of some boring aspect of his life, “we’re native to a planet called Philos, from a different galaxy that you humans haven’t begun to discover yet.”

“How long are you gonna keep this up? Anyone can get that tattooed on themselves.” You fold your arms, growing increasingly thwarted with this little charade. Not that you’re angry with him, but this joke or whatever it is isn’t amusing in the slightest.

Xavier sighs, like he’s the one that’s meant to be frustrated in this situation. Without another word, he stalks over to you and grabs hold of your wrist, pressing your palm against his bare chest. His skin is ice cold and clammy, as if he’s breaking out in a cold sweat, but it’s completely dry. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the slow thump of his heart beneath his chest. Once again, you’re not sure how this is supposed to convince you of anything, but it does leave you flustered and unable to fathom what’s happening.

“Look at me.” Xavier’s quiet and serene voice echoes through the bathroom. The rest of the villa seems still and quiet; most of your friends are probably still passed out after last night’s activities.

“I am looking.”

“I mean look at me properly… please.” His voice cracks a bit, a hint of vulnerability showing through his usual aloof behaviour. He seems desperate and you can’t understand why.

Your eyes fall onto his face, taking in his features that you’ve been gawking at this entire trip so far. His soft pink lips, his dainty, pointed nose and those eyes. Those otherworldly blue eyes that are staring right back at you, glowing like they’re filled with stars. You feel everything that I consumed the night before come up and settle in my chest. Can he really be telling the truth? No, that’s just absurd. There’s no such thing as aliens and they sure as hell don’t just show up on earth in the form of a handsome young man.

And just as you’re about to yank your arm away and tell him you don’t find this joke funny – he starts to glow. Not completely, just where those markings are littered on his torso. A light emits from them, his hand suddenly warm against yours. He closes his eyes, concentrating on something before your whole body starts to vibrate. You instinctively start to panic at the sensation until it’s gone rather quickly and instead you feel a tug on your arm. For a split second there’s nothing but darkness just sucking you in until then you’re in an endless white room.

The only thing grounding you is Xavier’s arm on yours, like an anchor. You catch your breath and look up at him fearfully, trying to make sense of it all.

“What- where are we?” You ask frantically, tense under his gaze but you refuse to move your arm away for fear of floating away.

“This is… the edge.” Xavier explains vaguely, pulling you a bit closer.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s like the edge between my galaxy and yours,” he smiles awkwardly, “I obviously can’t just teleport to my home planet but… for you to believe me I’ve brought you to this somewhat halfway point, where our galaxies meet.”

“What happens at this… halfway point?” You frown at him.

“Wandering souls from both our galaxies settle down here, probably tethered to something or someone on either side,” he explains, a dreamy look in his eyes, “my kind are genetically designed to travel to the fourth dimension, but not for too long, usually only in our dreams… I’ve heard some humans can do it as well?”

“Um I personally haven’t- uh Xavier? I can’t really wrap my head around all this.”

“I understand…” He smiles sadly before sighing and closing his eyes again.

In a split second you feel those vibrations again, the feeling of being sucked into a vacuum making you shut your eyes before you’re safely back in the bathroom and everything is exactly as you left it. Your whole body grows cold as you finally pull your arm away from him. In a startled state, you sit down on the edge of the bathtub, your eyes fixated on the floor as you try to understand the reality of this situation and simultaneously try not to throw up all over the fluffy bath mat.

“Please don’t turn me in.” Xavier says in a small voice, all his usual serenity and confidence dropped right down the drain, “I’ve gone for over 200 years in hiding and I can’t get poked and probed now.”

“You- 200 years?” You lifted your head in shock.

“I… I arrived here by accident, an expedition gone wrong 200 years ago earth time,” he says, his back against the shower door and his head hung low, “I’ve laid low all this time and… I’m trusting you with this because you seem nice and as sad as it sounds, I could use a friend.”

“Xavier… you’re 200 years old?” You stand up from the tub.

“I’m 214.” He clarifies, peering up at you through his long bangs. There’s a deeper emotion to his words that prompts your next question.

“And how long is the lifespan of your kind?” You ask carefully.

“215.” He answers so sharply and now his desperation makes sense.

This is why he really trusts you with all of this. For all he knows, you might be the last person he gets to share this secret with.

“Why are you crying?” He asks after a beat of stunned silence.

You reach your hand up to touch your cheek and, sure as day, it’s damp. You don’t know why you’re tearing up either. Maybe it’s the way he explains all of this - so calm and accepting yet desperate for something, anything. Over two hundred years on this earth and soon it’d all be over. How does one even come to terms with that? You have no choice in your heart but to believe his story and empathise with him.

“Sorry I… I’m sorry to hear all of this,” you eventually respond, your voice trying to stay neutral despite your sudden display of emotions, “it must be really difficult for you.”

“You humans are such empathetic creatures.” He tilts his head to the side, studying you for a bit.

“Not all of us.”

“Oh trust me, I know that,” he stifles a small laugh, shaking his head, “that’s why it’s taken me so long to come out with my big secret.”

“I can’t be the only person you’ve told.”

“But you are,” he insists, “for the most part, I’m coming clean because I’m not sure how much time I have left you know… and then the other part of me wants to trust you, I feel like you’re special.”

“I’m not special.” You counter abruptly.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Whenever I say things to single you out you just shut me down,” he stares intently, “do you not feel important?”

“Wow, all these years on earth really taught you how to be direct and up front.”

“Apologies, when somethings on my mind I just like to say it,” Xavier smiles sheepishly, “but if it’s any consolation, I truly mean it when I say you feel special… I want you to see me for me, in the same way I want to see all of you.”

You swallow dryly at his words, fidgeting with your fingers absently. You’re in uncharted waters here. No one’s ever said anything like that to you before, especially with that look in his eyes, as though you’re the only person in existence. You want to keep his secret. You want to get to know him and his life - or lives - as crazy as it may seem. You want to bring down your walls and let him accept you as you are in the same way you’re willing to take him in. For once you don’t want to sit on the edge and dip my feet into the shallow waters. You want to dive in head first.

After an awkward pause, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Wanna go for a swim?”

—

Xavier is an excellent swimmer with a carily precise form and intense knowledge about different strokes. He tells you about how he was an amateur league swimmer a few decades ago in France and that’s only the second most outrageous thing you’ve heard today. He’s wearing a long sleeved black rash guard and swimming trunks that barely hide his perfect physique. A part of you internally gushes over the fact that you were trusted enough to see the alien markings that adorned his torso.

“I’m more of a doggy paddle in the shallow end kinda gal.” You joke, letting yourself float in the middle of the pool while Xavier glides past you in a breathtaking backstroke.

“But you can swim right?” He asks in amusement before he began floating flat on his back as well, his eyes closed.

“Yeah I can swim, you don’t have to worry about saving me.”

“I wouldn’t mind having to save you, I took a CPR course.” He says nonchalantly.

“I feel like there’s probably nothing you haven’t done.”

“Hmm I haven’t gotten married or had kids or owned a house or-“

“Okay I get it,” you laugh gently, “but those are like mundane human things, your lives seem much more exciting.”

He doesn’t answer, his eyes still closed as he allows the water to lull him side to side. The world around you is still peaceful, only the occasional chirping of a little bird disturbing the quiet. You look towards him before guiding your body up to float closer to him. You’re side by side, the warm summer sun contrasting with the cool water.

“I haven’t fallen in love.” He says in a soft voice, so delicate that you barely hear him with the water calmly sloshing against your ears.

“Me neither.” You reply.

“You haven’t had a partner?” He asks.

“A few casual things here and there but nothing of note,” you brush it off, “what about you?”

“Well, the same,” he huffs out a small chuckle, “my excuse is my secret, I could never let anyone get too close for fear of them finding me out, what’s your excuse?”

“I may as well be an alien with the way I don’t let people in.” You join in on his laughter.

“I hope you let me in,” he turns his head to look at you, a distant grin on his face, “your world seems like a beautiful place.”

The house starts to stir with activity, everyone else waking up with their regular hangovers while you and Xavier get out of the pool. You wrap yourself in a fluffy towel, shivering a bit despite the smouldering sun shining down on you, the 10AM glow making Xavier’s hair look almost yellow. He notices you staring and smiles shyly.

“You sure do like to stare a lot.”

“You’re one to talk,” you roll your eyes, “and forgive me, it’s not everyday I get to befriend an extraterrestrial being.”

“Let’s go for a walk?” Xavier asks with a small yawn, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

You two leave the backyard through the little white cantilever gate and stroll onto the pathway that leads to the beach. The weather is warm enough with a perfectly gentle breeze to keep you cool. Xavier hops down the small bank before helping you down as well, his hand on your waist. He keeps it there as he leads you off the path and towards a rock pool hidden by the lush greenery.

“Did you know this place is here?” You ask him curiously.

“Yeah, I wandered off a few times when no one was looking,” Xavier chuckles, eventually moving his hand away, “except you, you’re always looking.”

“Oh so you have a big head? Because I’m not always looking.” You roll your eyes even though you know you’re lying.

“I thought we said there’s no judgement here? If you want to keep looking I won’t stop you.” He grins playfully before tugging you into the little pool, drenching you and your towel in the process.

“Xavier!” You shriek once you hurriedly paddled to the surface of the icy water, wiping the strands of damp hair away from your face.

Xavier just can’t help the shit eating grin on his face as he shakes the water from his hair, his hands still holding onto the small of your back. Despite your irritation, you don’t have the heart to fully put him down for his playfulness.

“Was it so hard to just ask me to get in the water?” You ask breathlessly in faux annoyance.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He shrugs before gently tucking away the wet hair still clinging to your forehead.

You quickly return the gesture, slicking his ashy bangs away from his face and making him laugh softly.

“How do I look?” He ponders, tilting his head to the side.

“Like a… wet puppy.”

“I was hoping for handsome but I’ll take that.” He shakes his head. His breath fans over your collarbone and suddenly you become aware of how close the two of you are.

“Well you are handsome, I don’t think I need to say that.” You admit as you hesitantly reach your hands up to rest on his broad shoulders, the material of his rash guard sticky against your fingertips.

“Even if you think it’s not necessary to say,” he hovers a bit closer, if that’s even possible, “I want to hear it from you.”

His nose is inches from yours, his piercing eyes darting all over your face. The cold water is barely noticeable as your entire body heats up under his gaze, flushed with desire and adrenaline. His lips are curled into the slightest smirk, but somehow there’s nothing malicious about it. Even so, it’s enough to give him exactly what he wants.

“You’re handsome.” You whisper, a voice so small that you wonder if he can even hear you over the cries of the seagulls or the gentle wind rustling the trees.

“And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on in all these years on this blessed planet.” He replies firmly and his declaration is so serious it makes your heart do a flip.

“I’m pretty su-“

“No, don’t even try to deny it,” he presses his calloused index finger to your lips, “if there’s one thing you know about me by now, it's that I’m blunt and I mean what I say.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t know how to take compliments and… attention like this.” You say awkwardly, turning your head away in embarrassment.

“Then let me stop talking and just show you.” He whispers before you feel his hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at him.

You can barely register anything before his soft lips are pressed against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, explorative as he tests the waters. You tentatively close your eyes and melt into his sweet embrace, leaving your mind hazy but content. After a few moments, his tongue nudges against your lips and you part them immediately, letting him deepen the kiss. Your hands lock behind his neck while his fingers dance down to your bare thighs, gripping onto them as he hoists you up under the water. You wrap your legs around his waist, falling deeper and deeper into the feel of his mouth against yours, the faint smell of his perfume fizzled out by the seawater, the taste of him that was like no one you ever kissed before.

You drop back down to earth when you feel his skilled fingers tugging on the strings of your bikini top and you freeze. You slowly pull away from the kiss and he instantly stops his wandering hands, looking at you for permission to take this further.

“Um… we might be going a bit fast…” You finally say, feeling yourself cringing at your own words.

This is it. This is the part where he realises you’re boring and insignificant and he’s wasted this whole day when he should be spending the last moments of his life with someone amazing who’ll give him all the exciting experiences he de-

“You’re right, sorry if I was rushing you,” Xavier smiles calmly, his hands moving down to simply hold you around my waist, keeping you close to his warmth, “I got carried away because I’m really starting to like you, you know?”

“Wait what?”

“What?”

“You like me? Like that?”

“Of course, why else would I kiss you?” He pouts adorably.

“I just… I like you too I guess.”

“You guess??” Now he looks appalled.

“Oh God sorry I didn’t mean it like that.” You can’t hold back your laughter as you hide your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know what? You should just kiss me again so I forget you ever said that.”

And so you do.

—

The remaining days of your vacation pass by in a blur of stolen kisses, shy touches and gentle conversations away from the regular hustle and bustle. While your friends are making the most of the final leg of this trip, you and Xavier grow closer and closer until it’s clear as day that you care deeply about this man and he’s managed to break down all the walls you so carefully built around yourself.

And then the inevitable happens.

It’s the last night of your trip and he’s standing next to you on the balcony of his room. You’re pressed against the railing, hyper aware of his arm around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. The proximity alone is enough to send sparks flying through your veins.

“You’re sure it’s tonight?” You ask warily, unconsciously gripping the railing a bit tighter.

“I can’t say what time but I… I can feel my body shutting down,” Xavier explains solemnly but with barely any fear for what is to come, “it’s had enough really, I’m sure it’ll happen soon.”

“Do you… do you know what’ll happen to you?” You turn around in his arms to study his face but his expression is as passive as ever.

“I’m not too sure, I know I won’t just collapse in a heap and die,” he jokes, biting back a laugh when he notices you’re not amused, “knowing my genetic makeup I’ll probably just dissolve into thin air, my particles floating back to my planet maybe or somewhere else, maybe drifting between space and time.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Not really,” he finally smiles genuinely and reaches out to caress your face, “these two weeks with you have been so fulfilling… you’re the first real connection I’ve made in all these years and now that I’ve experienced loving someone… I can go happily wherever it may be… I have no reason to be scared.”

“You love me?” You tilt your head.

“I might as well… if these are my last minutes or hours on earth I would love to spend them loving you.” He whispers before capturing your lips into a desperate kiss, the force making both of you stumble back into the room.

His hands are everywhere all at once, engulfing you and swallowing you whole. This time you don’t hesitate, you don’t hold back, you don’t shy away for fear of being judged. For once, you want to be seen because you know Xavier appreciates everything that you are. A nervous, awkward and insecure mess — he doesn’t leave any room for doubt with the way he holds you with such reverence. His eyes stare down at you in awe as our clothes disappear one by one, layer by layer, discarded on the carpeted floor. You let out a weak gasp as his cold hand dips between your legs, checking your readiness.

“You can be as loud as you like.” He whispers, placing a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

His movements are gentle and loving, leaving no spot of skin unloved. He worships your being, knowing this would be the only time he has you like this. Slowly and sensually, he enters you and it feels as though a dome has been placed over the both of you, filled with warmth and serenity that you provided for each other.

You see him standing on that balcony, his gaze hard and longing for his home. An outcast just trying to survive in a world that isn’t his. You couldn’t be more different and similar at the same time. Even though you have to say goodbye to him, the way he makes you feel will live on with you forever. You won’t hide yourself anymore. You won’t force yourself into corners. You won’t sell yourself short anymore because in the 200 years of Xavier’s existence, he chose to love you in his last days.

When your mind descends back to reality, you’re a moaning mess, clinging onto him until you both finish. Xavier lays himself on top of you, careful not to crush you but trying to get as close as possible. There’s a deep silence, broken only by your short breaths and the rustle of the bedsheets. After a while, Xavier lifts his head to give you a satisfied smile. He leans in and nuzzles his nose against yours before rolling onto his back.

“You were wonderful.” He comments calmly, reaching down to hold onto your hand. And despite everything that had just transpired, that simple touch sent my heart racing.

“So were you,” you smile, “and not just in bed I mean… for this entire time, I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company as much as yours.”

“I actually have something for you… just a letter I wrote,” Xavier traces his thumb over the back of your hand, “but I’d rather you read it when I’m… gone.”

“Let’s not talk about that now,” you insist, rolling over to cuddle against his side, “let’s just enjoy this moment.”

—

He’s gone in the morning, without a trace left behind. Perhaps he did dissolve into nothing, his soul drifting to his home planet or somewhere further away. Maybe there’s a heaven for aliens? Maybe none of this was real? When your eyes flutter open and you feel the space in the bed next to you cold and empty, you dare to dream that his lost soul is in that halfway point he showed you before, tethered to you forever.

You stretch your tired limbs, your heart heavy as you tug yourself out of the bed and throw your clothes on. You wander over to the desk in the corner of the room, your eyes fixated on the letter he had left for you. Part of you doesn’t even want to read it, another part of you wants to believe that this entire trip was a long, intense lucid dream. With conflicting emotions, you grab the piece of paper and unfold it.

dear y/n

despite being someone that has read a copious amount of books in my lifetime, somehow it’s still difficult for me to express anything with words. isn't it funny how even after two hundred years pretending to be something i’m not, i still fear saying something wrong? i’m sure if there’s anyone who can understand that feeling, it’s you.

i think it’s best i’m straightforward, like i always am. these days with you were the perfect way to spend my last moments. i hope you don’t think that i was just using you. what i feel for you is genuine and it hurts me deeply that we didn’t have more time together. it’s a bit cruel that the star i was looking for all this time only appeared when it was too late. but it also just makes the time we had so much more special.

i don’t know where i’m going. i don’t know what’ll happen to me after this. i’m sorry that i have to leave you so soon, but if our connection is what i hope it is, i’ll still be with you from the other side. in that space between my galaxy and yours, i will watch over you. i will always see you.

with love, xavier.

You clutch the letter to your chest, barely registering the tears brimming in your eyes. Your thoughts drift back to that first night, when Xavier hid in the bathroom, shielding himself like you always did. Without thinking much about it, you reach your hand up and knock on the desk three times.

Perhaps it’s your imagination, just an audible hallucination playing tricks on you, but you swear you hear three little knocks back.

RAFAYEL

“It’s starting, cutie!” Rafayel called out from his seat on the sofa, his feet resting on the ottoman and a fluffy blanket draped over him.

“I’m coming!” You exclaimed back from the kitchen.

You bustled into the living room with a large bowl of popcorn in your arms as you plopped down next to him and nestled yourself under the blanket as well. Just in time for your arrival, the television screen started broadcasting the intro to the newest trashy reality dating show that the two of you had been hooked onto.

Through shots of an expensive villa, unreal beaches and young singles prancing around in swimsuits, Rafayel casually handed you a mug of hot chocolate before diving his hand into the buttery popcorn.

“Do you think that guy is finally gonna get over that girl and play the game properly?” You asked.

“Nope, he’s just like me if you were in that villa,” Rafayel grinned playfully, feeding you a handful of popcorn, “I would throw the whole game away for you.”

SYLUS

You sat comfortably on the bathroom counter, adjusting the sticky sheet mask on Sylus’ face as the man pressed his palms against the edge of the ceramic sink and let you do as you pleased. He hummed in satisfaction as you patted his face, smoothing out all the edges before pulling away.

“What’s next, kitten?” Your boyfriend asked, stepping away to stretch his arms up above his head.

“I wanted to do my nails,” you hopped off the counter and strolled out of the en suite towards your shared bedroom, “wanna do yours too?”

“Sure, but last time you just painted them black, how about something cuter today?” He sauntered in after you, settling down on the bed as you pulled out your extensive nail care kit.

“Mmm I was going to do purple for myself,” you sifted through your various nail polish colours while he placed his hand in your lap, patiently waiting for you to paint his nails, “let’s match.”

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

CALEB

You shrieked as your boyfriend came up behind you, sending the flour into the air and cascading onto the both of you like snow in Winter. You immediately whipped around to lightly smack him with your wooden spoon while he just laughed in amusement.

“Sorry but you were so in the zone, you weren’t paying attention to me.” Caleb explained playfully, dusting off his apron despite most of the flour being stuck in his hair and dotting his face.

“You’re the one who said the flour to egg ratio has to be perfect,” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, “so God forbid I was just busy following instructions.”

“You’re so cute when you’re focused.” Caleb cooed before wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your powdered nose.

“At this rate, these cupcakes won’t be done until midnight.” You set your hands on your hips.

“Good thing you’re off work tomorrow!”