#lorefiles

Like, when he asks, “Who else were you expecting to see?” later on. That’s not mere curiosity, not with that vulnerable and soft tone.

And I think I finally understand why. It’s about the jealously that is not jealousy. At least it’s more than that. The way I see it, at least.

People like to joke that Xavier is jealous of himself. Of Lumière (and I sometimes joke about that, too. Affectionately). And sure, in a way, he is. And yes, it figures since he is a jealous person.

But that’s not what this is. That’s never what it was. This isn’t a man competing with himself. This isn’t a man competing with himself. It’s a man afraid of being unseen beneath the myth - the fear of being loved only as a symbol, never as himself.

He’s not comparing himself to a person. He’s comparing himself to a version of himself that’s easier to love.

The mythical version. The perfect one. The one he had to become.

• Lumiere is the myth. Xavier is the man.

• Lumiere is polished and constructed. Xavier is flawed and real.

• Lumiere is the story people tell. Xavier is the truth that remains: the cost, the ache, the man who has kept going for so long.

MC makes him put on the Lumiere costume and you can see his discomfort. Because that’s the opposite of what he wants.

So when he asks, “Who do you like more?”

It’s not about pride. It’s a quiet, terrified question that implies: “Would you still love me if I wasn’t everything you hoped for?”

And when she dodges the answer - when she keeps teasing, keeps pushing - it hurts. I feel it in my chest. Because that silence? That’s the thing he fears most. That she might choose the dream over the man who broke himself to build it. That scene has always unsettled me.

Because there is so much beneath the surface. How he holds himself together, calm even when he’s unraveling. How he asks for so little but gives so much. And in that moment - when he’s so clearly begging to be seen - she doesn’t give him what he needs.

I understand what MC tries here. She wants to get him to talk. But I couldn’t relate to her here. That’s no hate towards MC, by the way. And I believe they left that scene with an open ending for a reason. Still, I would’ve answered. Without hesitation.

⸻

MC calls it luck. She says, “Lumiere saved me again. I must be the luckiest person alive.”

And maybe, at first, he smiles. Maybe he lets her say it. Lets her believe the myth still matters more than the man beneath it. Because that’s the MC from 14 years ago talking, in a way. (And even though she knows that it’s him now.)

But when he reaches out to wipe the dirt from her face, he’s not correcting her.

He’s thanking her. Quietly. Softly. Almost too gently to notice.

“You might just feel lucky… But for me, it’s a wonderful blessing.”

Because for Xavier - not Lumiere, not the symbol, not the mask - this isn’t about theatrics. It’s about knowing and feeling how close he came to losing her. How tightly he has to hold back his panic just to speak without breaking. How desperately he clings to presence when words would only ruin it.

He tells her, “I only know that if I had been even a second later, I would’ve lost you. Forever.”

The weight of that confession reveals everything he’s been holding back. Because Xavier has been terrified, is terrified, and yet he doesn’t make that moment about himself. Of course not. He puts that existential fear aside, for later, and only wants to make sure MC is alright. He is there, giving her space but also not leaving. In that moment he’s still the strong Lumiere who has saved the day and - like always - he’s Xavier. With everything there is to him.

He’s there.

That’s also part of his love language: showing up in silence. Caring through action. Staying, even when he’s still unsure if he’s allowed to be himself.

When MC asks him to put on the Lumiere mask in the dressing room, he tells her “No thanks” which shows that, with her, he wants to be himself, not Lumiere.

He then asks her, “Are you hoping he’ll show up?” (he’s jealous, yes, but it’s rooted deeper than that) and goes impossibly silent when she doesn’t say “no”. Because what he has wanted to hear was something like, “No, I’d rather stay here with you.” He sighs, shakes his head, his expression sad and maybe a little frustrated.

Then, when he fake-muses about Lumiere and if he wants to let go of his identity, Xavier is naturally talking about himself. He, half-mockingly, half-self-deprecatingly, says, “Even if he does exist, he might have given up on that identity. Maybe he’d rather be a normal citizen who goes for a walk under the sun every day.”

He’s telling her what he actually wants. “Sun” should not just be taken literally here - because he wants to be out in the open, in his own light. So of course Xavier wonders.

If she’d still choose him. Not just as Lumiere. Not as the prince. Not as the performer or protector or the ruthless man he can be. Him as a whole.

Xavier - the man who would do anything for her and for his home. Philos but also Earth since she is there. Even if it might cost him the chance to simply be loved. Because he knows what the future will look like if he fails. No light left.

In this moment, Xavier doesn’t ask for recognition or validation although he craves it. He doesn’t correct MC when she still thanks Lumiere. But that’s what aches most - because the only thing he wants is to be seen as Xavier. With his resilience and strength but also with his fears and trauma. And still be chosen.