he was right. 

it wasn’t as simple as it seemed to be, being a florist. 

there were other factors—details you failed to pay attention to. things you never noticed when you were at your grandmother’s, too young to pay attention to anything beyond color and scent.  

he teaches you the ropes. tells you to watch closely while he handles invoices, tracks orders, navigates shipments. 

then there’s the physical labor. hours dethroning roses, hauling crates of varying species inside, rushing them to refrigeration before they wilt. 

some mornings, you’re up at six. heading to the farmer’s market to pick up specialty orders jeremiah had placed the night before. 

and lastly, there’s the customer service part of the job. 

assisting an older woman who searches for orchids to leave at her daughter’s grave. bowing politely as a man picks up an arrangement for his wife, who’d just given birth.

smile and greet anyone who walks in. the same old.

like today. 

the door opens and the bell up front pulls your attention away from the daffodils you’re fixing in a vase. 

a young man steps inside. he looks no older than you. ash-blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes, tall and broad-shouldered. 

jeremiah, who emerges from the fridge behind you, brightens instantly. 

you say nothing, returning to the sight in front of you. daffodils aside, there is now a pile of wilted leaves that need to be tossed. 

then your boss’s voice cuts through the shop, familiar and steady, he introduces you 

“one of my closest friends and a long time partner,” he declares. 

a glance tells you everything else. it looks like he suffers from some form of sleep deprivation. the dark circles under his eyes are prominent and you watch as he turns away, a yawn overtaking him.

you offer a smile. polite and practiced. 

sluggishly, he tells you his name. 

“i’m xavier.” 

you tell him yours, and he nods.

"nice to make your acquaintance." his voice is light, almost soothing. 

a few seconds pass before jeremiah pulls him toward his office, leaving you there, alone and questioning. 

he doesn't really spend much time in the shop at first. 

but after that day, he starts stopping by at least once a week. always walking straight into jeremiah’s office to discuss god knows what for nearly an hour.

and when they finally emerge, xavier sometimes gives you a small wave. like today as you wipe down the counter with a towel, cleaning away the scraps from a proposal bouquet made earlier. 

you wave back before he exits through the front.

“goodbye.”

but you say it too quietly. he probably didn’t hear it over the door’s chiming bell. 

he never does look back, so you return to unpacking a new shipment of flowers, asking jeremiah what he'll be having for lunch today.

two weeks pass pass, and you notice how often xavier appears now. 

you've learned he’s a hunter for the hunter’s association, the ones tasked with protecting linkon’s citizens from wanderer attacks and unstable meta flux. professionally trained to be fast and relentless. 

knowing this, it’s almost hard to picture someone as calm and as perpetually tired as xavier to be doing work like that. the life of a hunter seems tedious, a career that doesn’t fit xavier, but jeremiah says otherwise. even tells you he’s one of the best in the fields. 

you nod along. “yeah, i bet.” 

you pretend to believe it. 

especially because xavier walks through the doors in that exact moment. 

a month passes, and now, he stops by multiple times a day. 

he visits in the morning before his shift, bringing three cups of coffee: one for you, one for jeremiah, and one for himself.

other times, he arrives late in the afternoon, right after he spent the day fighting wanderers and filing reports, bringing you half a dozen macaroons from the dessert shop next door. 

it’s sweet. 

even kinder that he thinks of you. attempts to win your favor by bringing you goods, ones that you’re unable to refuse. 

and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was trying to be your friend. 

at first, he doesn’t seem to mind how reserved you are.

you greeted him, yes. answered when he asked you a question? of course. offered him a wave when he gave you one first? duh

it doesn’t take long for him to realize you don’t talk unless invited, and for a while. it seemed like the only person gifted by the sound of your voice—your laughter even—was jeremiah.

that is, until he finds common ground.

he asks jeremiah what you ordered from the cafe across the street. what your thoughts on chocolate filled croissants were. 

he brings up the weather, loud enough for you to hear. glances at you when he mentions the latest wanderer attacks that happened too close to the villa, leaving him bruised and exhausted. attempts to ask you if you believe lumiere was still alive. 

confused, you stop in your tracks and ask him who the hell lumiere was.

your question alone causes jeremiah to double over in laughter so bad, he falls. 

you don’t even seem bewildered. instead, you remain unbothered. 

xavier, on the other hand, is embarrassed.

he tries to explain that lumiere was a legendary hunter from years ago, and you nod, satisfied with an answer you could care less for, already walking away to your station. 

xavier, watching as you leave, is called from his friend who still sits on the floor, continuously wiping away tears.

“okay, it wasn’t that funny.” he snaps. 

jeremiah outstretches his arm, assuming xavier was in the mood to help him off the ground. 

but after what happened? he rolls his eyes and slaps it away. 

one point for jeremiah. 

after today’s meeting and mission report, he lingers. watches you work from across the shop, pretends to listen to whatever jeremiah was showing him on the screen. 

finally, he finds the courage to saunter towards your station. 

in fascination, his eyes remain attentive to the flowers you rip apart and put back together. you’re entwining them in wires, gluing pieces together, and lastly, wrapping your finished product in colored paper. 

he compliments your work. tells you how much better you are at creating arrangements than jeremiah—someone who’s been doing this far longer than you have. and he sees it. the slight tug from the corner of your mouth, the smile you try to hide.

you shake your head, stifling a laugh as jeremiah, who’s just heard everything, glares at xavier from across the room.

“absolutely not. no. jeremiah is much better at this than i am. i’m still a beginner compared to him.” 

xavier raises a brow, cupping his hand around his mouth like he’s a seven year old child sharing a secret. 

“i know he’s right there, but you don’t have to act humble,” xavier says, a hint of teasing in his tone. “you’re leagues ahead.” 

he’s graced with sweet giggles, the ones you’re trying so hard to suppress, but fail to do so.

jeremiah, for whatever reason, decides he doesn’t have to deal with the likes of xavier after closing time.

“okay, that’s enough from you. out of my shop, jokester. let’s go,” jeremiah appears from behind, already steering him towards the entrance. 

“what? hey. c’mon jeremiah.” xavier protests, and your snickering dissolved into full on laughter as you watch their little squabble unfold. 

“help me!” xavier whispers-shouts, but you do nothing except hide your grin with one hand, and wave at him with the other. 

“bye bye, xavier. see you tomorrow!” you call after him as your boss shuts the door behind him, harshly flipping the sign from opened to closed. 

when jeremiah turns, you’re met with a mischievous, playful smile on his face.

one point for xavier. 

you two grow closer.

and now, when xavier stops by, he doesn’t come for jeremiah. he comes for you. 

he finds out quickly and unapologetically that he really likes talking to you. likes the way you rage when he surprisingly beats you at a game of kitty cards. roll your eyes at his terrible flirting and even worse pick up lines. 

even today, as you attempt to brush him off.

you complain about him being too much of a distraction, enough so that your boss might have to intervene. 

he knows you’re joking. you were just being your usual, sarcastic self. but still, xavier glances at jeremiah, who’s sitting in a chair across the room, preoccupied by the phone in his hand, presumably trying to beat a level of his dumb game. 

you continue.

“you’re affecting my work, mr. hunter. my work ethic will start dwindling, all my bouquets will get bad reviews, and i’ll be fired, living off the streets, asking myself where it all went wrong.” 

you theatrically fling yourself atop the counter, burying your head in the crook of your arms, disappearing from view. 

when you hear no response from him, you steal a glance from beneath your sleeves, just in time to catch him fighting a smile. 

“dramatic as always. if you really got fired—which you wouldn’t—but if we’re talking about hypotheticals, and you somehow lost all your money and apartment, i wouldn’t let you to sleep on the streets of linkon.” 

“oh really. and where would i go? where would you take me?” 

“easy,” he picks up the loose petal of a carnation that’s fallen from your apron, admiring the shade of magenta diligently. “i’d take you home to come live with me.” 

oh. 

oh. 

you turn away, hoping it’s enough to stop him from noticing the blush that threatens to creep up your neck and ears. 

a few seconds pass, and he doesn’t even think to realize what he said. the implications of it.  

blue eyes look up from the petal, handing it back to you like it held any significance. 

without missing a beat, you throw it towards the scrap pile of petals and stems. 

how you'd come back from that? you didn't know. 

so you deflect, try not to think too much of it, and resume that playful banter—the familiar teasing.  

“oh my sweet prince. my savior. thank you, how could a peasant like me ever repay you?” 

you raise your cuffed hands near your face in a mockery of a damsel in distress, yet when you let out a chuckle, it’s too airy, too forced. you hope he doesn’t notice. 

luckily, he doesn’t. 

“mocking your savior, are we now?” 

you stick your tongue out and settle behind the counter once more and move on to your next task: stripping the thorns from the pile of freshly dyed lavender roses in an effort to calm the butterflies in your stomach. 

you question why he willingly spends hours there on the weekends, on his days off too. especially when all he does is lounge around, bringing up all sorts of things to talk about with you. 

you admit, his company—either calm or chaotic, you’re not sure which you’ll get—is nice. 

you like xavier. 

once a stranger, he fills your days with laughter and conversations. he’s now a constant. 

you two share many things in common, and you find his back and forth with jeremiah hilarious. not that you’d ever admit it to his face.

and sometimes, the compliments and praise he often throws your way are enough to make your ears run hot and cheeks twinge pink. 

but that developing piece of information will never be anybody’s business but your own. 

on a late saturday afternoon your ringer echoes throughout the hall of your apartment, and in a jumbled hurry, you race across the living room to try and see who it was calling you. 

it’s a number you don’t recognize, so you toss your phone back onto the couch. you had thought it was your sister. she normally called around this time on a saturday as a weekly check-in.

the only other possibility could’ve been the elderly woman downstairs who sometimes invited you out for coffee and desserts, but you remember having her number saved, so it wasn’t her either. 

walking back to your room, you hear your phone ring again, and you return to pick it up, only to realize it’s the same number from seconds before. 

hesitating, you try and think of anyone with a number similar to the one on display. 

you come up with nothing. so a scam, maybe? marketing? 

you ignore it once more. 

and just as it ceases, it rings again, filling the living room with its loud and insistent chiming.  

it’s the same number. 

in defeat, you drag your thumb across the screen, lifting the phone to your ear. 

“hello?” the voice on the other end says, and you’re taken aback by how familiar it sounds. 

“hi?” you answer. 

what if you were wrong? what if this really was a stranger? 

but when a sigh full of relief is heard, you’re sure it’s him. 

“xavier?” 

“uh yeah. it’s me. hi.” 

“hi. again.” you sink onto the couch. 

it’s a surprise to say the least, but your mind immediately goes to think of how he got your number. it’s not like he had asked for it—you don’t recall ever giving it to him either.

“what’s up?” you ask. 

the only logical explanation was that jeremiah must’ve given it to him.

“nothing.” 

right? 

“nothing?” you repeat. “you called me for nothing?” 

there’s a sharp inhale, and then, another voice in the background—one you know too well. one that seals your little theory. it’s jeremiah. 

“just ask her if she wants to come. it’s not a big deal.” 

there’s laughter. one that didn't belong to either of them. it was too high-pitched and feminine to be theirs. still, you pay it no mind. 

“right. um.” he clears his throat. “do you wanna come and watch the fireworks? there’s a celebration happening downtown, and if you’re not doing anything, you should join us. it’s me, jeremiah, and another friend of ours.” 

you don’t know what to say. 

mostly because you’re not sure what those simple words do to you—why your mouth suddenly feels dry, why your palms start to sweat. 

and why xavier was inviting you, of all people. 

you fall silent, thought weighing heavily on your mind. until he clears his throat again, louder this time. it’s enough to pull you out of your self-inflicted trance. 

“oh. yeah.” you scramble. “i wasn’t doing anything special tonight. maybe just laundry and a movie, but that was it. so, yeah. i can go.”

you wince. just complete and senseless blabber. 

idiot. why would he need to know you were doing laundry? 

“okay, cool. do you want us to pick you up or-” 

in an instant, you’re already halfway towards your room, diving into your closet. 

“no, no need. it’s okay i can meet you there. i’ll be there in half an hour.” 

you pray he doesn’t hear the shuffle of clothes hitting the floor, or the slamming of drawers as you try to search for your favorite pair of jeans. 

“yeah, take your time. the fireworks don’t start until nine. so, we’ll be waiting. just...call or text this number if you can’t find us.” he pauses for a second. “it’s mine, by the way.” 

you stop. a smile he can’t see already forming on your lips. 

“this is the xavier shen’s number? you’re telling me i should save the most famous hunter in the association’s number?” 

“okay. now you’re just being annoying. i’m taking it back.” 

“i’m joking. i’m joking. okay. i’ll be there soon.” 

the moment the call ends, your fingers dance across the screen, typing xavier into a contact that had been empty seconds before.

when you arrive, you find three people settled on a blanket amid the crowd. 

there’s a woman sitting beside jeremiah, and xavier on her other side, noticeably detached from what the others are talking about. 

you approach slowly, lingering off to the side as you usher a shy, “hello.” 

xavier stands immediately, brushing away bits of grass he must’ve been plucking earlier from boredom.

“hey. you made it.” the corner of his lips tugs upward.  

“yeah. i said i was. did you think i wasn’t?” 

off to the side, a throat clears. it’s abrupt enough to pop whatever bubble you and xavier created. 

“oh. right.” xavier steps aside. enough to give you a clear view of the woman on the blanket. “this is isabella. a close friend of jeremiah and i.” 

she’s pretty. golden hair and green eyes. she doesn’t look like anyone you’ve met before. 

she’s wearing a heavy coat, beige and filled with faux fur—something suitable for a linkon winter night. 

the laugh that you heard from earlier must’ve belonged to her. 

the woman corrects him. “bella. my name’s isabella, but i prefer bella.” 

you nod in understanding, reaching to shake her hand, and she smiles politely. 

“it’s nice to put a face to the name. i’ve heard a lot about you from both of them. seems you give both of these boys gray hairs,” she grins. “in their twenties, no less.” 

you stifle a laugh, eyes darting between jeremiah—whose hand rests comfortably on her knee—and xavier, who rubs the back of his neck, gaze fixed firmly on the ground. 

“forget what i said earlier,” xavier mutters. “she’s just a close friend of jeremiah. not mine.” 

bella rolls her eyes in annoyance, and jeremiah just scoffs. 

“wow.” you say, fully prepared to milk this moment, that is, until both bella and jeremiah announced needing to get away from xavier. 

in reality, they just left to grab some refreshments. 

and suddenly, you’re left alone with him. 

you lower yourself onto the blanket, patting the spot beside you, hoping he’d understand the notion. he does, seeing the way he joins you.

“thank you for inviting me tonight. now i’m excited to see some fireworks.” 

“did i save you from a night of laundry and reruns on tv?” he asks.

you pretend to think about it long and hard. 

“why of course, my savior. you did.” 

time passes, and you two watch as the children ahead play with sparklers, waiting for the fireworks to start, which wouldn’t happen for another hour or so. 

comfortable silence between you people watch, observing the families and couples that drift by. 

after a few minutes, xavier breaks that silence. 

“do you wanna see something?” 

you follow his voice, blue eyes already on you. 

then, they flicker downwards to the palm of his hands, and your eyes are met with a little bunny made of what you think is a trick of the light. light in physical form?

you gasp before you can stop yourself. 

the manifestation in his hand hops around, even twitching its ears, and you’re tempted to reach out and grab it for yourself. 

“give me your hand.” a smirk on his face before the bunny hops from him to you. 

you giggle at the sensation, amazed how such a cute little thing could feel so real. 

“my evol.” he says simply, as the little creature continues running between him and you. enchanted, you try catching it, follow the trail of light and dust it leaves in its wake. 

when you finally catch it in your hands again, you realize the little bunny is just like the boy next to you. 

playful and unexpectedly gentle. 

when the two eventually return, it doesn’t last long until xavier is standing again, arm extended in your direction, reaching out like he was waiting for you to take it. 

“c’mon.” 

a brow shoots up, confused and lost. “where are we going?” 

“for a walk, before the fireworks start.”  

“no.” you mumble, mouth now full of the popcorn jeremiah had so graciously offered you seconds before. 

“huh?”

he wasn’t expecting you to flat out say no. it takes him aback.

“fireworks are starting soon. don’t wanna miss the show. isn’t that right, guys?” you glance towards jeremiah and bella, who are lost in their own world, entranced by the phone in bella’s hand, playing some sort of first person shooting game. 

dang it. 

when you turn back, xavier is pouting—ocean eyes wide and pleading. 

reluctantly, you cave. 

not even bothering to tell the other you were leaving, seeing the way they're engrossed in something trivial, you walk alongside xavier to an area where the festival goers lessened in numbers. 

“ever been to a show like this before?” he asks. 

“not since i was, maybe ten or eleven? it’s been a long while,” you reply. “you?” 

he nods. 

“we do this every year with a few other friends. but this year it was just us three i suppose.” 

“and me,” you add. “i guess poor little xavier couldn’t stand being a third wheel?” 

“i guess not.” 

there’s a pause. and his gaze lingers on yours—something softer glinting behind his eyes. a sparkle you could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. 

you try to ignore it.

“well then.” you say, lightly. “i guess we can third wheel together.” 

a faint chuckle. that same trace of tenderness in his eye. 

suddenly, without warning, he takes hold of your hand. 

“wanna see something?” 

“is it another bunny?” you ask innocently.

“not quite. but, close your eyes and hold on tight.” 

his arm snakes around your waist, firm and steady. before you can say anything else, a flash of light swallows your vision. 

you’re pressed against his chest, your face buried deep enough that his cologne floods your senses. 

dizzy and a bit dazed, it takes a moment for you to adjust, and the next thing you know, you’re trying to distance yourself from him. 

“xavier, what the hell?” but you shove at him too hard, causing you to be thrown off balance, and you nearly fall—until his grip is secured around your arm, stopping you in time.

“fiesty,” he says. “calm down will you?” 

“no!” 

you rip your arm free once your footing steadies, spinning sharply on your heel. but one step too far sends you teetering again. this time, towards the edge. 

if it weren’t for his quick reflexes, you would’ve fallen. could’ve even possibly broken a bone considering the distance between you and the ground. 

people below move, unaware you’re just above them, dangling if not for the boy whose hand is gripping your wrist tight enough to bruise. 

you’re on a damn roof not far from the festival and nowhere near where you left jeremiah and his girl friend. 

he pulls you back in, has you safely nestled in his arms stepping back to the center of the roof and farther away from the ledge.

this time, when you shove at his chest, there’s no looming threat of death hovering over you. 

“are you fucking crazy?” you snap. 

he snickers, somehow amused by your outrage. 

“calm down. it’s better up here. we get a premium view.” 

“i don’t care about the view. what the hell was that?” 

he doesn't answer, only keeping his stupid grin plastered. 

“you evol users are all the same. using your powers with no regard for those who aren’t born with any.” you mumble to yourself, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh, knowing it was only going to make you angrier. 

instead, he glances at his phone. seven minutes until nine. the fireworks would be starting soon. 

placing the phone into his back pocket, he says nothing as he takes your hand, again. 

you eye him curiously, hesitating in case he decided to use his little teleportation trick again. 

“no, i’m not gonna pull that again. i promise.” 

trusting him, you give in, allowing him to guide you. that is, until he walks you to where you landed the first time. right at the ledge. 

you look at him wildly. 

“nuh uh.”you back away slowly, slipping your fingers from where they’re interlocked with his. “i’m not sitting there. i have a fear of heights and it’s your fault i almost just died.”

“but i saved you before you could fall?” 

“who teleports a person on a ledge?” 

he stops on your callout, and he looks away sheepishly. 

got him. 

“okay, fine.” 

in two strides, he’s at your side again. 

“we can watch the fireworks here, in the middle. safe and sound.”

“but aren't jeremiah and bella be waiting for us?” 

“i think they’ll be okay.” 

a thought passes.

xavier was acting different. 

different than usual. bolder. flirtatious. more than he usually is, at least. more serious than those previous times at the shop when you knew he was joking. but tonight? 

you purse your lips, eyes landing on the moon overhead to keep the beating of your heart steady. 

his scent, familiar and comforting, surrounds you. his grip around your waist even tighter, and you don’t even think to move from it. you’re not opposed to it. 

but before your tendency to overthink could continue, the first firework goes off, then another. one by one, they across the night sky, lighting everything up around you. 

it takes your attention away—your conflicting feelings already fading—as you’re enamoured with every new development in front of you.

it really has been a long time since you’ve experienced this. 

when a big one is about to go off, you turn toward xavier’s direction, completely surprised to find him already staring at you, as if he wasn’t paying attention to the show at all. 

“the main attraction is up there,” you point with your left hand and guide his jaw with your right, forcing him to look up towards the sky. 

but even with your interference, his eyes don’t leave yours. 

“it’s okay. i think i like this view better.” 

he gently removes your hand from his chin, returning it to where it belongs, fingers interlocking like it’s something he’d done a thousand times before. 

like you two were actually together, and this was the most natural thing in the world. 

utterly shameless. you think, trying to do anything in your power to stop the blush from becoming noticeable.

but he sees it, and he softly laughs into your hair, pulling you in for a hug. 

you try and escape it, try and create some space, but when he doesn’t nudge, you accept it. 

“still mad about earlier?” he mumbles. 

“yes.”

you weren’t. 

“guess i’m just gonna have to make it up to you then.” 

he gently sways you to the rhythm of nothing but the sound of fireworks, the world fading in nothing but you and him. 

you give in. you let your heart, for this one moment, stay and believe that whatever this is, was happening and it was real. 

you know what this is, but you won’t admit it. don’t want to. 

because a part of you thinks it’s too good to be true. 

and because that part of you has learned your lesson one too many times. 

and you were right. 

because a few days following that night, after you two had spent every waking moment texting, he comes in with a girl. 

beautiful with brown eyes and brown hair tied up in a ponytail. she’s wearing an outfit similar to the one xavier wears after returning from his missions. 

just from a quick glance, the medallions she sports shine bright from the lights above, telling you everything you need to know. she’s a grade A hunter. high level. best of the best. just like xavier.

and today, as he enters with her at his side, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. not when you raised your hand to wave like it was second nature. a habit recycled from the days he visited jeremiah’s shop. 

in this case, though, you can’t blame him for ignoring you. not when his mind (and yours) is occupied at the sight of the woman’s injuries. bandages wrapped tightly around both arms. bright red blood seeping its way through the tiny openings. cuts, long dried, scattered across her neck. however, the one on her cheek looks like it runs deep. 

fresh bruises the size of softballs can also be seen on her left shin and right thigh. and despite how painful the beating she took may seem, her expression is rather annoyed. not at all in tremendous discomfort like any other human would be, considering the blood loss she must’ve suffered too. 

xavier, on the other hand? 

there’s urgency in his eyes and a crease in his brow. 

he’s upset. upset at her for reasons you can only assume.

you watch as he beelines straight into jeremiah’s office. 

he hadn't paid you any mind, but the injured hunter did. 

she stands a few feet away from jeremiah’s office. body stopped more so at the center of the store. her eyes scanning the shop in wonder, drinking in all of the out of season flowers that litter every corner of your workplace. 

her gaze suddenly lands on you from where you stand behind a bucket of yellow carnations you had meant to remove from their packaging and place them in the refrigerator for preservation. 

she catches you slightly off guard, but you offer her a polite smile and a simple, “are you okay?” 

she returns a smile just as kind. 

“i’m okay. just a little beaten but nothing i can’t handle.” the way her body is relaxed despite her injuries, the warmth she exudes through her eyes… it oddly reminds you of xavier. 

“my partner on the other hand, well. let’s just say he’s acting a bit...dramatic.” 

reminds you of how he looked at you when he took his place by your side. 

“yeah,” you stiffen a nod. “i would know.” 

her eyes widen at that last part, and you pause, not registering you had muttered those last few words aloud. 

“oh. no, what i meant was-” but you don’t get to finish that sentence. 

not when the little moment between you two is broken as xavier’s voice, sharp and edged with something you can’t decipher, calls out to her, causing her to break away from you first. 

but before she steps any further into the direction of the office, she grants you another smile. light and sincere. 

“thank you for asking, by the way.” 

it’s all she’s able to say before the door is slammed shut behind her. 

he stops coming in after that. 

that’s a lie. 

he still comes in, it’s just not as often. 

what was once four to six days a week has now dwindled to a mere day. sometimes none at all.

and like before, he only comes in to speak to jeremiah. it’s always brief, not lasting more than an hour. 

he doesn’t ignore you, gods, no, he doesn’t. because that would’ve broken you. 

he still pauses to wave at you as he arrives and when he’s about to leave. still stops briefly to compliment your handcrafted works. the one he knows you’ve spent hours on. 

he knows how carefully you’ve construed them with delicate fingers and great determination, because he spent those hours keeping you company, invading your space while you did so. 

not so much now. 

he just doesn’t talk to you like before. he doesn’t sit at your side and spew the old rapport that had you giggling, falling over in laughter. or gives you the kind of compliments that had your face running hot, heart beating rapidly, quietly envisioning a future where the two of you are more than this. 

more than friends.

and it’s a nice thought. a dreamlike scenario. 

but that illusion shatters—completely breaks. there’s a strain that wasn’t there before. a wall built without you even realizing it. 

you choose to ignore it. choose to let it go. 

because a part of you believes that when he’s ready to talk to you. really talk to you like before, you’re sure he will.

and you’ll be waiting. 

more weeks pass and you revert to your quiet self again.

you speak only when spoken to, only laugh when a joke uttered by jeremiah or a customer is funny enough to elicit a reaction from you.

and busy as ever, jeremiah now has some other business, departing from the shop more often and leaving you to handle the majority of orders.

so you mention to him in passing. why not hire another florist to lighten the load? it was almost springtime anyway, you're sure the influx of customers wanting bouquets and floral arrangements will rise again.

he takes it into consideration, eventually agrees, and tells you he’ll put up another help wanted sign. 

surprisingly, it only takes a few days, and you're introduced to someone new.

brown hair and charming light brown eyes. he’s tall. polite. a recent college graduate just a year younger than you, and very attractive. 

jeremiah, basing everything on seniority, tells you he’d be working under you, helping with whatever was needed to maintain the shop’s workload, all while you prioritized the incoming customers’ arrangements. 

at first, you paid him no mind. you had only spoken to him when giving instructing him on the ins and outs of everything. basic, straight forward instructions to keep business flowing. 

but he’s a talker. you knew it from the second he opened his mouth. 

he yaps to you during long shifts, tries to speak to you by bringing up pointless topics. announces loudly when the rain outside is not letting up, or asks you nonsensical questions, like what your favorite brand of ramen is, or who your most listened to idol group was. 

at first, your answers were blunt and clipped. you didn’t feel like feeding into his senseless blabber.

but then there were the late nights where the sun had set hours past six, and the rain droplets pattered against the window pane, and the wind howled with vengeance. 

like tonight. 

“it’s really coming down tonight, huh?” he sits by the window, hand underneath his jaw. he looks unimpressed. 

you say nothing, eyeing him for a split second before ignoring him like always. you focus instead on putting away the last batch of peonies into the fridge. 

finally, when the clock on the wall reads six p.m., you grab your bag from your cubicle, preparing to open up your umbrella, and pray the light sweater you chose to wear this morning is enough to keep you warm from here to the subway station. 

but when he sees you, notices the way you’re ready to head out with little to no protection against the cold, does he stop you. 

“you’re not going out like that, are you?” 

you don’t look at him. not when you’re adjusting the strap of your bag. 

“s’not like i’m gonna stay here and wait long enough for the storm to go away. i’ve got cats to feed.” 

“it’s nearing hurricane one levels of destruction out there, and your priorities are to feed your cats?” 

your eyes narrow. “well, yeah.” 

you phrase it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

he purses his lips.  

“unbelievable.”

you choose not to acknowledge him, already reaching for the handle, bracing yourself for the hurling winds outside. 

“hey. hey, okay wait. before you plan a suicide, just wait another thirty minutes. weather app says it’ll ease soon.” 

in an attempt to stop you, his hand lands on your wrist, and you rip it away, as if his touch alone burned you. 

not even the glare you gave him could wipe that oddly nervous looking smile off his face. 

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. but honestly, it’s bad out there. you should really wait.” 

utterly relentless. 

the scowl on your face is not lost on him. 

“or if you’re really that desperate to get home, i’ll walk you. that way, if you get blown away, i can save you.” 

so dumb. stupid, even. 

but he insists, going as far as to offer you his jacket. 

“you’ll get sick.” 

you refuse it. 

that is, until you opened the door wide enough that a gust sweeps through the whole building. the cold combined with icy rainwater, has you questioning your decision. maybe it really wasn’t the time for stubbornness. 

“here.” 

he doesn’t even give you a chance to repeat the word “no”. not when he gently takes the nearly opened umbrella from your hand, leaning it against the wall, and wraps the jacket around you before you could protest any further. 

“dummy. won’t you get cold?”

he’s already standing by the door, key in hand, ready to lock the shop from the outside. 

“don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine.” 

and all you can do is accept his words and pretend to believe him. 

the next morning, he calls off. something about catching the cold. at least, that’s what jeremiah tells you. 

idiot. 

when he returns, still feigning a cough, but much better than before, he resumes with his endless questions. brings up new ways to get you to speak to him. 

this time, you let him. you answer his questions. you tell him your favorite brand of ramen is the one found in the korean market a few blocks away. 

you don’t have a favorite idol group because you don’t listen to that genre of music. your tastes are rather, unknown. 

he asks about your cats, and you ask how arranging the hydrangeas is going. 

and every time, he somehow matches your energy. especially when it comes to your sarcastic quips. 

in a strange, twisted way, it reminds you of how things were with xavier before that day. 

still, you shake the thought away before it could form into something bigger, and incidentally, you find yourself opening up more around this man—this damien. 

without asking or even mentioning, he brings you a lavender haze latte from the little destiny cafe across the street. 

you don’t argue with him when he insists on walking you to the train station after the shop closes for the day. 

he gets bolder, and what was once stupid jokes and ridiculous what-if scenarios is now shameless flirtation. 

just like xavier.

“you did your hair pretty today. not that it isn’t always pretty. was it for me?” 

“no.” 

“your eyes are shining brighter than usual. inject yourself with starlight?” 

“what does that even mean?” 

“if i’d have to pick between surviving off the sun or you, i’d pick you a thousand times over?” 

you choke on the drink in your hand. “now that’s just stupid.” 

there’s a part of you that doesn’t particularly like it, and maybe that part of you was still holding out for xavier. the part that can’t help but reminisce how he made your heart skip a beat, how he somehow left a smile permanently etched on your face, and how no one since has quite measure up. 

your heart, a fragile thing, still remembers how he held you hand in a intimate embrace, guided you in gentle sways as the fireworks overhead casted shadows across his face. 

or when he took your hands in his, eyebrows knitting at the calluses left by your labor, walking away only to return a minute later with hand lotion, massaging your palms in soothing circles until you drifted off into sleep against his shoulder. 

or when he brought you coffee in the morning, or an onigiri for lunch, sitting at your station, patiently waiting for you to finish off a phone call from a customer so he could talk to you—so he could ask about your day and you about his. 

but you’d be lying if you said you hated it when damien made the butterflies in your stomach twist in that nauseating way. the same way they did with xavier, the same way people alluded it to be a “sign”. 

so you let it continue. partly because you want to see where it goes. 

and partly because that piece of your that held on to xavier was already fading. 

just as he disappeared, xavier returns. 

it’s not too sudden. 

he still made his rounds, still visited when he needed to. 

noticed when he came in one day and saw how close you and damien had been sitting near each other. 

he pretended that the roots of his jealousy weren't taking place when he saw how that man’s gaze lingered on you when your focus was centered on the abundance of baby’s breath in your hands. 

he pushes it all aside, turning toward jeremiah who was standing just outside his office, but his eyes don’t leave the two of you. every movement, every glance, it seems to draw him in. 

jeremiah notes his friend's behavior.

“i’m glad she has someone to talk to again." he's beside xavier now, wiping his hands with a damp towel. "sometime after the incident—after we found out your alter ego had been compromised and on the verge of being revealed if macie hadn’t stepped in—she sort of, reverted back to who she was before you.” 

xavier’s eyes land back on you as your laughter reverberates the walls of the shop. 

“is that so?” 

jeremiah nods.

“i think,” his closest friend turns towards him, expression solemn. “i think it’s better if you don’t involve her in our world, your majesty. it’s better if you keep her in the dark. better to keep her safe than sorry, knowing that we don’t have long until...” 

xavier blinks thrice before ocean eyes meet yours, and you smile, giving him a small wave. jeremiah’s words no longer register in his ears. 

it’s the same wave you always give him. 

however, it doesn’t last long. not when the man beside you brings a single flower to your nose, causing you to redirect your attention back to him and nudge him with your elbow, hard just to get back at him. 

you look happy. content. 

maybe that’s what destroys him more. 

“yeah. i guess you’re right, jeremiah.” 

jeremiah’s warning doesn’t stop him from attempting to reconnect with you, though. doesn’t keep him from stopping by more often, just like he had before. 

he idly hangs around after his meetings with jeremiah have finished. ignores the way his heart pangs with jealousy from seeing you and that man’s proximity. the light-hearted banter and teasing that once belonged to you and him. 

and it certainly doesn’t stop him from bringing you coffee in the early hours of the morning, when the dew still sticks to the plant leaves displayed outside the shop. 

xavier is there before he is, but even then, jeremiah had told him he wasn’t scheduled to come in today anyway. 

xavier takes the opportunity, despite the voice in the back of his head—the one that sounded too much like his friend's—reminding him about letting you in his world. the world that belongs to lumiere. the danger his enemies posed, those who knew of his identity and targeted anyone he was close to in order to gain the upper hand. whether it was intel or a chance to aim for the bounty on his head. 

it already happened with macie, a skilled hunter with martial prowess, and it still resulted in her sustaining various injuries. 

he couldn’t imagine what would happen if they targeted you.  

but being apart from you was even worse. 

you’re aware of the glances he still gives you when he visits. the way his gaze lingers, flickering between you and damien longer than it should. 

but it doesn’t change anything. he’s still xavier. and you’re still you. 

good friends. 

that’s the lie you tell yourself, at least. 

maybe now, you were just friends, considering how long it’s been since you’ve properly spoken. since things felt easy. 

so when he walks up to you, coffee in hand, and says your name, soft and full of sentiment you haven't been familiar with for a while, it catches you a bit off guard. 

and what confuses you even more is how early he is. so much earlier than usual. 

today is thursday, which means you’d have to walk to the market for jeremiah’s order of hydrangeas, except damien wasn’t here to assist you. 

“i don’t mind joining you.” xavier says beside you. “whatever you need, i can help.” 

it’s as if he could read your mind—knew your exact dilemma before you voiced it. 

“how did you-” 

he doesn’t let you finish, pointing to the calendar on the wall. there, pick up flower order is circled in bright red. 

of course. 

“but don’t you have work today?” you ask. 

his answer is immediate. “nope. using up some of those vacation days.” 

“you’ll be free all day?” you squint at him. “is this your plan to bug me until jeremiah fires me for good?” 

despite the time apart, it’s easy. falling back into the same rhythm. keep the same teasing cadence. it was always easy with xavier. 

he blinks, then shakes his head. 

“why do you seem so sure jeremiah wants to fire you? he loves you here.” 

you laugh. 

“i know, i know. i just wanna make you feel guilty. but it didn’t work.” 

it feels the same. like you two hadn't been separated for months.

you pause. 

“well, if damien’s not here, are you willing to step in as his replacement with absolutely no pay?” 

he almost grimaces at the mention of that name, but catches himself. pretends it doesn’t bother him. 

so instead, he nods. 

“then mr. shen.” you grin. “say goodbye to your career as a hunter!” 

you grab his wrist, dragging him outside where the clouds cast a gloomy overcast, and the smell of petrichor lingers, threatening rain. 

he regrets it immediately. 

because here he is, walking seven blocks from the flower shop, carrying two heavy cases, arms aching, vision partially blocked, and reliant on you, following your instructions and direction. waiting for you to tell him if he’s about to crash into poles—or people.  

“left.” you call out cheerfully. “okay, stop. there’s a crosswalk.” 

meanwhile, you walk freely beside him, empty-handed, smiling like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

you had taken a photo of him earlier, even teased him about sending it to jeremiah. except, he doesn’t even protest. 

with you at his side, he finds nothing to complain about. it’s comfortable, achingly so. 

it’s just like before. when it was just you and him. 

so he lets you laugh and lets you take pictures. allows himself to look ridiculous if it keeps that smile on your face.  

because if this is what it takes, then it’s worth it. 

nearing the shop, the weight in his chest has settled into something quieter.

it’s the space between your footsteps and the way you stop when you notice him struggling. joking that missing one day of hunter training was already depleting his natural strength, and he just offers you a slight smile. 

taking a case from his hand, you continue walking ahead of him. 

“we’re like, a block away. but if you’re still tired, i’m sure jeremiah wouldn’t mind you sleeping on the couch in his office.” you huff as you bring the crate towards your chest, placing your arms underneath. “then for lunch, we can try that new sushi spot next to destiny cafe.” 

maybe it’s because he’s been distant, but he realizes how the time away has nearly sharpened what he took for granted. 

it’s the unspoken, unresolved knowledge that he doesn’t have forever here. in this timeline. on this planet. 

but whatever it is, it sits on him heavy and unmovable. 

he likes it here...by your side. and he’ll try spending every day standing at your side for as long as he can. 

he wants more than the pieces you offer him so freely. more than the conversations and the quiet laughter. more than what you’ve already given him. 

he wants to be part of your little world and to belong in it. 

yet, the thought of damien lingers. that voice of reason who haunts him, echoing the same line.

he may be the better option for you. being with him would keep you from danger, and you’d get to live a life that doesn't require to look over your shoulder every time you step outside.

but still, he wants to turn a blind eye to it. has to.

because he likes you. he really does. 

he doesn’t know how he’ll say it, doesn’t know when. 

but one thought remains, clear and constant. 

stay. choose her. 

while yes, the morning spent with xavier was nice, and it only served to remind you of what you once shared, the warmth and nostalgia, the laughter and smiles, it wasn’t the same as before. 

those walls, the ones you thought he built, but turned out to be your own, were still standing high and impenetrable. 

today taught you of what you’ve grown past, and what you accepted a long time ago.

you still care for xavier, probably in a way your body and mind will never allow you to forget. that part of yourself will never change, but maybe a relationship—something more than friendship with xavier—wasn’t ideal. 

once upon a time, you thought it could’ve been, but then...

it’s better this way. you think to yourself, watching as xavier walk ahead of you, pausing when he realizes you are no longer there beside him. 

he smiles, that tender smile that once made your heart skip beats and the butterflies in your stomach fly astray. 

now, it’s just a delicate appreciation. a part of yourself that will always love xavier as a friend. 

after that day, things, for the most part, returned to normal. 

xavier visits every day now, stays in the idle hours of the morning when you open shop. would leave minutes before damien was scheduled to come in. 

he texts you at night before bed, and sometimes—rarely—calls you. 

on those nights, you always somehow drift off to sleep before hanging up, and wake up to a dozen texts from him, telling you how many secrets you spilled with your sleep talking. 

bullshit. 

today was one of those days where damien was off. had told you it was his niece’s school dance recital, and he promised her he’d be there to support. 

coincidentally, it was another day xavier requested off from work. 

he’s here beside you, plucking the leaves of the forget-me-nots that surround your station, following your orders when you had asked him to assist you. 

he’s uncharacteristically quiet, seemingly concentrated, but you notice how intense his brows pinch together. 

it worries you. 

dropping the tools in your hands and removing your gloves, you walk over to him. 

“hey, hunter. what’s got you so troubled?” 

looking up at the sound of your voice, it's as if his worries fade. he no longer looks upset, replaced instantly with a smile. the same one he always gives you. 

“what? worried about me?” there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone that’s not lost on you. 

“well i was, but never mind, continue on with your unpaid manual labor.” 

more time passes, and everything remains as it is. 

every now and then, a customer walks in, and you leave xavier to attend them. 

in the middle of a story—one about your older brother traversing into the deepspace tunnel for an exam—a phone call comes in, and you’re forced to leave him on a cliffhanger as you leave to answer. 

minutes pass, and you return from writing in a new order, finding xavier fiddling with the hydrangeas you had put into a vase earlier that morning. 

the moment, gentle and intimate, causes something in your heart to stir. 

before he notices the silence that’s overtaken the building, you take a minute to walk into the fridge, scanning around you, trying to remember where you had placed the yellow roses earlier. 

it takes you another minute to find the best, most breathtaking one to gift him. 

satisfied, you walk out, drifting off to where he sits. 

flower in hand, you stretch your arm in his direction, clearing your throat in an attempt to pull him from continuing to count the petals of another rose. 

“i come with a gift.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

he blinks at you in surprise, adjusting his focus to the flower in front of him.

"i'm sure jeremiah won't mind if i gift you a free flower, and if he does, then he can take it out of my paycheck."

xavier’s eyes flicker between you and the flower, and he’s blinded by the brightness of your smile.

he chuckles softly, "thank you."

taking it, he admires it. the pretty rose. 

delicate and stunning. just like you. 

"it's no problem, xavier.” you shy away from him and take a step back. “we're friends after all."

he looks at you, a bit confused, making sure he heard you right. 

but before you could question his baffled expression, your attention is taken by the chime of a bell from the front of the shop, revealing a familiar figure. 

damien steps inside, and your eyes fall on his niece, who clings tightly to his arm. 

xavier lowers his gaze to the rose in his hand—and still, he sees it. how quickly your expression softens at the sight of him. 

“this is the lovely lady who made your pretty flowers.” 

you grin, then look away, cheeks already flushed from mere appraisal. 

it causes something in xavier's chest to lurch.

you’re already moving away from him and to the little girl instead. 

crouching down, you compliment her recital dress. your voice gentle and warm.

“wow, you must be the famous miley.” you pat her head gently, but she shies away, hiding herself further behind damien. “your uncle talks so much about you. he tells me you’re the best dancer in the whole school.”

it seems she wasn’t used to that kind of attention. 

but xavier watches. observes all three of you, together.

comes to the conclusion that this man is now part of your life as much as you’re in his.

and in this moment, he's the one feeling like the intruder, witnessing something so intimate. 

the sight and thought alone makes him sick. 

he remains seated where you left him, but he can't continue to watch the scene in front of him unfold. so he forces himself to admire the flower in his hand as a distraction—use it as an anchor of sorts. 

then, suddenly, jeremiah appears beside him.  

xavier grips the stem tighter than necessary, like it's a lifeline.

because it was. it came from you, after all. 

he already knows why jeremiah is here, and he understands. there’s no softening for what's about to come. 

"you know,” jeremiah says lightly, “in flower language, yellow roses symbolize friendship." 

friendship. 

your words echo back to him. 

“we’re friends after all.” 

you had given him a yellow rose.

not a red rose. not a pink one. not even a tulip.

yellow.

friends.

it’s almost funny. 

you managed to tell him everything by barely saying anything at all.

how you placed him exactly where he belonged before he ever had the chance to chase for more. 

right. 

you and xavier were always meant to be just friends.

⏾

a/n: happy belated new years guys!!! i offer the usual angst and heartbreak as a treat. hopefully here’s to many more! and off topic, but this song is so very special and dear to me, just like xavier (haha)

He nods again, so you get to work preparing dinner. You’ve learned how to gut and clean fish expertly, so you manage to do it with the small fish that you had caught earlier, while he sits and watches you. Once you have them cooking on the fire, he lays out the packed food that you have – cheese, bread and some sort of jam or marmalade. You’re not too sure what it’s made of, but it’s sweet, and it’s a small luxury that you’re able to enjoy. 

The two of you go about your tasks in comfortable silence – that’s something that you like about Xavier. You can sit with him without saying anything, and neither of you feel like you have the need to fill the silence. You know there’s power in that silence and stillness. It spoke multitudes about him as a leader. Xavier’s strength is abiding and quiet. He believes in letting people’s merits speak through their actions. When he had asked you to give up your life in Philos to join his team of Backtrackers, you only hesitated for a few seconds before giving him your answer. You’d follow him to the ends of the universe.

You’ve admired him since your days at the academy. From small smiles and soft greetings when passing each other by to deep conversations about the countless stars in the sky during dark nights – you consider him not only as a leader, but also as a friend. Your heart stirs as you contemplate your relationship with him. You think you love him as more than a friend, but you know his heart is set on her. He would never look at you the same way. So you bury your feelings and love him in the best way that you can – by staying at his side. 

You and Xavier eat in the same way as you prepared the food – silently. Even though he usually doesn’t say much, he has said even less these last few days. You’re starting to grow worried about him, as you had noted in your journal earlier. Both of you finish eating and he starts cleaning up, packing away any scraps and the things you used to cook. You get to work on the tea. You had picked some chrysanthemum blossoms growing nearby and had decided that they would make a good brew. You pour water into a kettle and settle it on the fire. Soon, it starts boiling, and you pour it out into two cups you had set out earlier. 

You hand one to Xavier and he takes it from you as he sits down next to you.

“What’s this?” he asks, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a tentative sip from it, then blows on it  before taking a few more. He hums appreciatively. “It’s good.”

“Chrysanthemums,” you tell him, drinking from your own. “I found some flowers growing over there and thought they’d make a nice tea.”

He nods, then holds the cup in both of his hands, staring at the fire. You do the same, but instead of the fire, you look at him. Then, you look up to the sky, squinting. “There aren’t many stars out tonight,” you mutter. “Can’t see anything. Too cloudy.”

He continues to sip on his tea, not saying anything. You groan inwardly before deciding to speak up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, setting your cup down on the ground beside you. “You’ve been quiet, Xavier. Too quiet. What’s on your mind?”

“I think we need to stay another day,” he says, looking into his cup. 

You blink at him. “But… there’s a storm coming. And we’re almost out of supplies. We need to regroup with the others.”

He looks up at you, his expression stern. You haven’t seen that from him in a while. You challenge his stare, maintaining eye contact with him.

“I know. But I’m making this decision. There might be something in that metaflux storm that could be useful.”

You gape at him, then close your mouth again. You grit your teeth before responding. “I think it would be dangerous and irresponsible to stay. It’s just the two of us. We don’t know what we’ll be up against.”

He stands abruptly, and you flinch, almost spilling your tea on yourself. He glowers down at you, his bright blue eyes cold and steely. “And who are you to speak to me in that way? Did you forget who I am?” He leans down, his eyes boring into yours. “I am your crown prince.”

He’s never spoken to you in this way before. Not once has he ever pulled rank on you or addressed you in a way where he didn’t consider you as an equal. You know he’s stressed, you know he’s desperate, you know he’s running low on hope. But Philos knows you’re not going to let him spiral.

You stand as well, squaring up to him, meeting his gaze. You dig your heels into the ground, your stance firm. “My apologies, your Highness,” you say, your tone low. “I thought you were just Xavier.”

You see Xavier clench his jaw, his eyes narrowing. You don’t break eye contact. He then sighs, resigned, shaking his head. You think you’ve won the argument, but what he says next renders you speechless.

“Fine. You go ahead and regroup with the others back in the city. I’ll stay.”

You want to tell him he’s crazy, that he’s not thinking straight. You want to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but instead, you just stare at him, your brain scrambling to find a way to respond. He doesn’t give you the chance. He sets his cup of tea down near the fire, then turns away from you, heading back into his own tent. You can’t do anything but watch helplessly as he leaves you by the fire, still holding on to your tea. You let out a trembling sigh before picking up the cup he left, pouring what’s left of both your teas, with their blossoms, into the soil.

—

“Dammit, Xavier,” you mutter, fighting your way through the brush. You hack at it with your small blade, trying to make your way back to camp. 

You had left Xavier earlier that morning, following his orders. He still hadn’t come out of his tent when you had finished packing everything down, leaving him with just his essentials. You had already been travelling for about an hour, before you felt a sinking feeling settle in your stomach. It was partly due to the anxiety and guilt you were feeling knowing that you had just left Xavier to fend for himself during a metaflux storm. But mostly it’s because you felt the storm coming – your senses were on high alert, your body gearing up for a fight. You couldn’t stand it any longer, so you decided to defy what he had told you to do, and make your way back to him. 

As you get closer to camp, the feeling becomes more intense. You know it’s going to be a wild storm. You’re almost there, when you hear the familiar sounds of Xavier using his blade to battle Wanderers. The air is thick with metaflux, and you hope you can reach him before a protofield forms. You drop your pack and start sprinting, ignoring the branches and leaves hitting you in all directions. You’re weaponless – you don’t have your own blade with you. You know you’ll have to fight with your own fists. Your concern for him overpowers the insecurity of being unarmed. 

You break through the brush just to see him holding a protocore between his fingers. He studies it carefully, his eyes squinting in concentration. He’s completely oblivious to the Wanderer starting to spawn behind him. It’s huge – you’ve never encountered one like it. You don’t even know how to class it. Your boots pound against the ground as you run towards them, your heart hammering against your ribcage. 

“Xavier!” you scream, trying to get his attention. His head whips towards you, his eyes wide. The Wanderer raises its… hand? Tail? Appendage? It prepares its attack, and you just manage to put yourself between it and Xavier as it strikes. You don’t have time to deflect or counter. It swings sideways in a wide arch, hitting you instead of him, its intended target. The wind is knocked out of you as your feet leave the ground. The momentum carries you across the clearing, and you hit a nearby tree with a sickening thud, before slumping down to the ground, motionless.

Xavier drops the protocore he’s holding and strikes at the Wanderer with his blade. It screeches, while he continues to attack it, his blows barely delivering any damage. He grips his blade tightly before taking a deep breath. He prepares his Evol, pushing it out into the blade. He goes in for a final attack, striking at the Wanderer’s core. The Wanderer shrieks before dissipating into a mist of light particles. Its protocore falls to the ground, but he ignores it.

Before the Wanderer has even completely disappeared, he drops his blade and rushes to you. He falls to his knees and scoops you up into his arms carefully. He brings his cheek to your nose, then presses it to your chest. You aren’t breathing. He can’t hear your heartbeat. His arms wrap around you tightly, his chest pressing against yours.

“Please, please, please,” he pleads, murmuring your name softly. “Please come back to me.”

His Evol flows out of him, and he wills it into your body, hoping the energy will wake you. But you stay limp in his arms. “Please,” he repeats, his voice breaking. “You can’t leave me like this.”

Light envelops you and him as he continues to pour out his Evol into you, but you aren’t responding to it. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing you to wake up, to take a breath, to give any indication that you’re alive. He feels himself faltering, his energy wavering. And then, he senses it. A slight change in the flow of his energy. He continues, forcing more out, until you take a gasping breath, before letting out a strangled cough.

“Xavier…” you croak. “You’re… crushing… me…”

He releases his grip on you and he holds you out at arm’s length. His Evol dies down, the light slowly diminishing. You blink at him, reaching out with your hand to stroke his cheek.

“You’re crying,” you whisper, astonished. His eyes are glistening, and his cheeks are wet. “Why?”

“I thought I lost you,” he admits. He holds your wrist and places your palm against his cheek. “I thought you were gone.” He releases your hand and holds you close to himself again. “You defied my orders,” he chides, still embracing you. 

You return his embrace, burying your face into the crook of his neck, knowing that this will probably be the only instance of this ever happening. You close your eyes and relish in it, feeling a twang of envy for his beloved, knowing that he has probably held her like this countless times.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

—

You would later end up being wrong. It’s been decades since you distanced yourself from Xavier and the rest of the Backtrackers. Xavier was ridden with guilt, knowing that it was because of him that you were almost killed. He would treat you as if you were fragile, as if you were something to be protected, as if you couldn’t take care of yourself. Missions and expeditions became difficult with him constantly stepping in for you, and you felt like you were being suffocated. You couldn’t bear seeing what the guilt had turned him into, so you made a decision that breaks your heart to this day. You decide to free yourself from him, and free him from you.

You leave the group silently one night, no note, no indication of where you were going. You disappeared, like a ghost, taking all your things with you, leaving only your logs of research behind. You made sure that they wouldn’t be able to track you. You travelled and explored the world, still with Xavier’s initial goal in mind. You worked in libraries, schools, research centers, anywhere you could further your studies, trying to find the answers that haunted him. You hoped that someday, you could meet again, and proudly hand over the things he has spent years seeking. 

You kept tabs on them at first. At some point, you think Xavier and Jeremiah were the only Backtrackers left. You started hearing rumours about some masked vigilante named Lumiere, and you would chuckle to yourself – he reminded you of Xavier. Eventually, you stopped tracking them, not because you didn’t care anymore, but because you ended up missing them. Missing him. So you left them alone, hoping that you’ll be able to find them and face them again one day, when you’re ready for it.

A couple of decades have passed. You’ve aged only a little bit – one of the advantages of being from Philos. You have temporarily retired from your life of research, and have decided to settle down for a short while, maybe for a few years or so. You are now living in Linkon City, the proud owner of a newly opened cafe, right in the heart of the city center. You found that you could learn a lot by listening in on conversations exchanged over a warm drink. It’s another way to do reconnaissance and research. Plus, you have always loved making tea. Over the years, in your spare time, you would try to come up with unique and delicious brews and blends. You’ve decided to turn your hobby into a business, and it warms your heart to see people enjoying your concoctions.

It’s a sunny afternoon – the cafe has been relatively quiet, save for a few students that have been camped out at your tables for most of the day, studying. They bring in good money as they keep coming back up to the counter to buy refills of whatever they’re drinking, be it coffee or tea. You’re rearranging cups behind the counter when you hear the bell at the door ring, indicating that a customer has entered.

“Welcome!” you call to them, without even seeing them yet. You rush up to the counter again, getting your tablet ready to take their order.

“Hello,” a voice calls back. It sounds eerily familiar. You look up from the tablet to greet the customer that has reached the counter.

It’s her. She’s wearing a Hunter’s uniform, and she smiles at you with that same smile that she had, back at the academy. You blink at her, and you feel like your heart has stopped beating in your chest. There’s someone standing behind her, also wearing a Hunter’s uniform, but your focus is on her. Is it her? It can’t be her. But she has the same smile. The same eyes. The same gentle voice. You have to remind yourself to speak before she starts to get concerned.

“Welcome,” you repeat, trying to blink your surprise away and keep your voice steady. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Mm,” she says, placing a finger on her chin. She doesn’t seem to recognize or know who you are. “I think I’ll get an oolong milk tea.”

“Hot or iced?” you ask, your hand shaking as you put her order in.

“Iced please. What about you, Xavier?”

Your head whips up from the tablet to see a pair of bright blue eyes staring at you. The person behind her has stepped up to the counter, and he leans over, giving you a subtle smile. You fight to keep your face expressionless, but your heart is racing, your palms are sweating. You wipe them quickly on your apron, hoping that he doesn’t take note of it.

“I’ll have a chrysanthemum tea, please,” he requests softly, never breaking his gaze with you.

“Xavier, I don’t think that’s on the menu,” she tells him, a scolding tone to her voice.

“It’s okay,” you quip, looking away from him, punching the order into your tablet. “It’s not, but I have a special blend of it in my personal stash. I can make you a cup, no problem.” 

The receipt finishes printing and you tear it from the printer and hand it to her. She takes it with another warm smile. “Wow, thank you, that’s so kind of you to do. Are you sure it’s no trouble?”

You mirror her smile with one of your own. “No worries. I always have it ready, just in case a special friend visits.”

You nod at both of them, unable to meet Xavier’s eyes again, but you know he’s staring at you. You call one of your staff to take over from you at the counter before turning around and heading back into the cafe’s office. 

“That’s so nice,” you hear her say, her voice filled with wonder. “You got special treatment! Are you actually friends with the owner, and you just haven’t told me?”

You hear Xavier chuckle, amused. You pause as you reach past the doorway to the back of the cafe, knowing they can’t see you anymore. You strain your ears as you listen to the last bits of their conversation, your throat feeling tight, tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes. 

Suddenly, you heard some commotion in the hallway outside the door. With a loud crash, four people dressed all in black burst into the room. 

“Who the hell are you people?” The lead captor seethed. Only the sound of punches and grunts from guards was heard in response. 

“We’re here to take back what is ours.” One of the masked men demanded. He lifted his mask partially and looked down at you. He gave you a wink, and you smiled at the familiar face. 

“Go ahead, I don’t need them anymore.” The lead captor said. This made the masked man’s eyebrows furrow.

“You’re letting them go willingly?” Jeremiah questioned, confused. 

“Sure, they already gave me everything I needed.” The lead captor smiled. Jeremiah looked over at you. 

“What does he mean?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you later. Let’s just get Xavier out of here.” You insisted pushing him off. 

“No, what is he talking about?” He argued back. You sighed, getting ready to disappoint them. 

“I…might have told them the location of our secret base in this kingdom,” you say quickly. You can see his face drop. “But it was all to get Xavier’s memories back!” You said defending yourself. 

“Well, did you get them back?” He asked pointedly.

“No…” You confessed. He put his hand on his face and grumbled. 

“We’ll talk about this later. For now, let’s just get you and Xavier out of here.” He said. 

“What are you guys talking about? I’m not going anywhere. I live here!” Xavier argued.

“Really, Xavier? Where’s your house, huh? Where do you live?” You countered. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about it. You could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I live in this castle. I’m a part of the royal guard.” He argued back. You grunted in frustration. He’s more gone than you thought. 

“Jeremiah, help me!” You shouted.

“Xavier, it’s me, Jeremiah. You remember me, don’t you?” He asks. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t know any of you people.” Xavier insisted.

“You two, grab him and cuff him so he doesn’t run away. We’ll sort out his memory issues when we get back to our kingdom.” Jeremiah said. Two of his men grabbed Xavier. 

“What are you doing?” Xavier shouted, struggling in their grasp. “Help! I’m being kidnapped!” He looked toward your captors for help, but they only stood still and watched. It hurt your heart to see Xavier in this state, bound by another set of restraints, but you reminded yourself it was for his own good this time. Jeremiah looked over the thin piece of fabric across your chest that was protecting your modesty and averted his eyes quickly. 

“Here, take my shirt,” he said, taking it off and handing it to you. 

“Thank you,” you said, pulling it on. It was loose and baggy on you, and it stuck to your wounds.

You were led out of the castle and started the journey home. It wasn’t easy. Xavier kept trying to break free of the men’s hold. And when he was successful he would run back. Eventually, he calmed down enough for a rope to be tied to his cuffs so that he didn’t have to be held. 

Nights were the worst. Xavier wouldn’t sleep and had to be put to sleep using a somnolence spell. Every time you would wake up screaming, you would turn over expecting to find comfort in the one you loved, but all you found was cold and empty ground. You’d try to calm him down by stroking his hair every time he woke up screaming, but he would just push you away saying that you should mind your own business. 

Once back in your own kingdom, you kept to the countryside and avoided major cities if possible. The kingdom didn’t need to see its members in this kind of shape. After stares from the staff inside the palace, you were taken straight to the healer’s quarters. 

“I don’t want to go, I want to get cleaned up by myself.” You said, which was code for you crying and isolating in your room. 

“You need to get your wounds treated, at least,” Jeremiah said. You looked down at your bloodied shirt and forgot about your burns and other wounds. Yes, they hurt, but it was nothing compared to the emotional pain you felt. 

“Why? Would it be so bad if they got infected?” You asked 

“Yes, it would be. Now, walk to the healer's quarters with me or I will have you carried there just like Xavier was.” You sigh with a groan but comply.

“It could be worse,” he says a few minutes into the walk. 

“How? How could anything be worse than this?” You snapped. 

“You could be dead, or have all of your memories erased,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’d rather be dead than live this nightmare.” You gripped.  

You both got to the healer’s quarters, and a kind, young woman greeted you with a smile. Although your heart dropped when you heard shouting coming from the room next to you. Undoubtedly, that being Xavier. A healer walked out of the room and her eyes lit up when she saw you. 

“Perfect! Could you come in here and help us calm him down?” She asked. 

“I mean, I can try, but I don’t know how successful I’ll be.” You said. 

“Please, any help is appreciated.” She begged. You both walked into the room where a healer was trying to put some salve on Xavier’s burn wounds. 

“Don’t put that stuff on me! I don’t know what that is!” He argued, struggling in his binds. 

“Sir, it’s salve to help your wounds heal. It’s safe.” The healer kindly reminded him. He saw you walk into the room and, suddenly, his attention was focused on you. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, frustrated. Your heart hurt at his harsh pointed words, but you know he didn’t mean them. He was just scared. 

“I’m here because you’re giving these ladies a hard time.” You scolded, putting your hands on your hips. 

“They're trying to put mystery stuff on me!” He argued.

“It’s stuff to help your wounds heal! You don’t want them to get infected, do you?” you argued back. For some reason, it worked. He let the young healer apply the salve with a sulk. 

“Miss, can we take a look at your wounds as well?” One of the healers came up behind you, startling you. 

“I’m fine,” You replied. Jeremiah gave you a stern look, “ok, fine,” you sigh. You started to take off your shirt. 

“What are you doing? You can’t do that in here!” Xavier shouted.

“Why not?” You asked. 

“Because I can’t see you without a shirt!” He yells. A small smile spread across your face. Even though his memories got erased, he’s still a gentleman. 

“I’ll go into the other room.” You said. 

“Ok, good.” He said. 

You followed the healer into the room next door. She filled a basin with water and grabbed a cloth from the cabinet while you sat on the exam bench. She diped the cloth in water and dabbed it on each of your wounds. Cleaning off any dirt and debris that got into it from the journey home. You hissed at the contact with your skin. You tried reaching for Xavier’s hand instinctively.

“Sorry!” She apologized quickly. 

“It’s ok,” you grunted. She opened a tin of salve and applied it to your wounds. After she finished, she bandaged you up. She wrapped gauze around your torso and bandaged your arms. You felt like you were wearing a corset with how tightly they were wrapped. Thanking her, you put Jeremiah’s dirty shirt back on and walked back into the hallway. You stop outside Xavier’s room for a second, debating whether you should go back in or not. You still heard him shouting and fighting. You were about to reach for the doorknob before Jeremiah stopped you. 

“Go, get some new clothes. I’ll deal with him.” He said. You gave him a small smile and started the journey to your room. 

***

Once Xavier’s wounds were treated and bandaged, he was taken to one of the holding cells in the top part of the dungeon and bound to a chair while they tried to work on his mind. It pained you to see Xavier like this, but it was for his own good. 

“Why am I here? Why can’t I go back to my own kingdom?” He shouted, struggling in his chair. 

“Xavier, you live here with me.” You pleaded. 

“Why would I live with you? I don’t even know you.” He said. The memory makers were busy trying to recreate memories for him so that he would at least believe he was from this kingdom. After a while, they finally walked over quietly, calmly. The memory maker held out a dish with glowing orbs inside it. 

“What’s that?” You asked. 

“These are memories made by us. They are fragile and highly sensitive.” 

“Xavier Shen, you live in this kingdom.” The memory maker said and lifted one bright yellow orb with his fingers. He touched it to Xavier’s temple allowing it to absorb. A mind controller whispered in his ear, reinforcing what the memory maker said. You could see the gears starting to turn in his head, the cognitive dissonance causing him great confusion. 

“I…don’t…know…what you mean,” Xavier says, eyes closed, brows knitted in confusion. 

“You live in this kingdom. You are a part of the kingdom’s spy fleet,” the memory maker said, floating another yellow orb out of the dish. He pressed it to Xavier’s temple again, allowing it to absorb. The mind controller whispered in his ear again. You could see he was really trying to fight it. The mind controller continued to whisper in his ear.

“I’m a part of…” he trailed off. It sounded like they were making good progress. After a few minutes, Xavier’s face started to relax. His eyes unscrewed and he looked down at the ground.

“Xavier! Xavier, look at me!” You called, trying to run up to him. Jeremiah held you back.

“Xavier Shen!” The memory maker called. Xavier looked up at him. “From what kingdom do you hail?” 

“I hail from this kingdom.” Xavier said. You smiled. 

“And what is your role here in this kingdom?” The memory maker inquired. 

“I’m a spy for this kingdom. I gather intelligence from other kingdoms and relay it to the king.” Xavier replied. You smiled even more. Hope bubbled up inside of you. 

“I think our work here is done.” The memory maker said. Xavier is let out of his binds and sits there. The memory maker and mind controller walked away. You ran up to him. 

“Xavier, baby, it's me. Do you remember me?” You asked hopefully, holding his cheeks in your hands. Those sapphire eyes that you loved with all your heart looked up at you. 

“I’m told that you’re my partner, but that’s all I know,” He says hesitantly. “What was your name again?” He asked, gently taking your hands away from his face. That sudden bubble of hope just popped. 

“I thought you brought his memories back?” You shouted at the two men behind you. 

“We convinced him that he belonged to this kingdom,” The memory maker said, “but that’s all we could do.”

“You built those memories! Why can’t you make more with me?” You shouted. 

“Memory making is a very delicate process, implanting them is even more delicate. You can’t overwhelm the mind or else,” 

“Or else what?” You shouted 

“Or else you risk severing them from reality.” He said, more firmly this time. “You're going to have to make new ones with him yourself.” 

“Make…new ones?” You stammered, voice cracking. 

“Yes,” the memory maker said. “Try showing him around the palace, around the usual places that you go.” You sighed. 

“If I do that, then will he get his memories back?” You asked.

“Probably not, it will take a miracle to get his memories back.” The memory maker said. You looked back at Xavier walking over and capturing Jeremiah in a hug. 

31 days. 31 days in captivity. It was supposed to be a regular recon mission. Get in, get the info, and get out. What you didn’t account for is getting caught. They’ve been grilling you, torturing you, to get information out of you, but you’ve stood strong. It hasn’t been easy, in fact, it’s been the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but with Xavier by your side you could do anything. Did I forget to mention that your captors have magical powers? Well, they do.

Water boarding wasn’t just your face shoved in a bucket of water, no, they literally put a bubble of water just big enough to encapsulate your head. This way you could see everything happening around you. You could see Xavier fighting his restraints to get to you. You could see their sadistic smiles as they watched you, almost, drown in the equivalent of a puddle of water. But they wouldn’t be that merciful.

They would take turns brandishing you and him with red hot irons heated with the fire produced from their bare hands. Branding you with the kingdom’s crest, among other things. Reminding you of who you crossed.

They also had their fair share of regular punches and blows to the face and rest of the body. What was worse is that they made each of you watch the other one being tortured. You’d be screaming at them to stop when there torturing xavier, but they’d just look at you with that same sadistic smile and start to torture him even worse.

The worst of it was the psychological torture. They would get inside your head. You’d be asleep, trapped inside your head trying to run away from the nightmares that they created. While awake they would extract precious memories from your mind and crush them. Taking them away and destroying them. Your first date with Xavier? Gone. First kiss with him? Gone. Those times you spent just messing around chasing each other around the castle for fun with him inevitably catching you? Gone.

Then there were the voices. Nobody’s mouth in the room would be moving but their voices were all you could hear. The voices that preyed upon every vulnerability and insecurity you had. “You’re not good enough,” they say “weak, spineless,” “do you really think that your little partner here cares about you? That he cares about what happens to you?”

“He does!” You shouted in agony. Xavier could see the pain on your face, but had no idea what was going on up there and that’s what he hated the most. He could see you writhing in your chair, trying to get your hands free so you could cover your ears to at least try and drown them out. By the end of it you didn’t even know who you were anymore.

The only thing saving you from complete destruction was the little bit of mental fortification training you had. It didn’t protect everything but it did protect a small portion of important stuff in your long term memory. Xavier only had half the amount of training you did and you hoped that was enough to fight against them.

One agonizing day, Xavier thrashed about in his chair. You could tell that the voices were in his head, torturing him.

“Ah! Shut up!” His broken voice shouted, eyes squeezed shut.

“Xavier, baby, listen to me. Listen to my voice.” You said trying to give him something to latch on to.

“I’m trying, it’s too much!” He grunted.

“You can do this! You can fight against them! I know you’re strong enough!” You encouraged him. Suddenly, he went limp in his chair.

“Xavier!” You shouted. One of your captors walked over and put a finger to his temple. A bright light came out from it and they held it there for a moment before letting it go, both of you watching it dissipate into the air of the room.

When Xavier woke up, those blue sapphire eyes that were always trained on you, watching you with such intense need to have and protect, were blank. Another captor came over and whispered into his ear and suddenly, those eyes that looked at you with so much love and adoration, turned cold. He was released from the shackles on his chair and he stood up.

He started to walk over to you slowly, calculated. He arrived at your chair and leaned down, placing a hand on the chair behind you while his face is inches from yours. Inspecting, observing.

“Do I know you?” He asked suspiciously. The question made your stomach drop. Sure you’re battered and bruised but he should still recognize you.

“Xavier, It’s me,” You said. He still had that confused yet suspicious look on his face. “It’s me, your partner,” you frantically continued.

“That doesn’t sound familiar.” He said, standing up, eyes still burning into yours.

“Xavier, please! It's me!” You shouted, “the love of your life, your shining star!” tears started to stream down your face. “What did you do to him?” You shouted angrily to your captors.

“We finally broke through his mental shield and removed each and every memory of you. Not only that, we replaced them with someone else’s memories too. Now he thinks he belongs here.” They said with that same sadistic smile.

“What am I doing? And—“ he touched one of his branding that were still healing and winced, “what is this here?”

“Xavier, baby, you’re here with me. We came from our kingdom together to get information, remember?” You said, still struggling against your restraints.

“I live here, in this kingdom. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said still looking at you confused.

“Try all you want, but his memories of you and his life are gone.” Your captors chuckled at your feeble attempts at reorienting him. They take Xavier away and you’re left in the room alone. Sobbing, you’re thrown back into your cell.

A few more days of torture go by. You’re trying to stay strong because that’s what Xavier would want you to do, but you can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker. One day, you finally break.

“If I give you what you want, will you bring my star back?” you rasped. Your captors smiled.

“Ah, so you've finally come around,” the leader of them said, "what do you think? Should we bring him back?” He asked rhetorically, looking over to the other captors in the room.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” You pleaded.

“Anything?” He smirked.

“Anything! Just bring him back!” You sobbed.

“Tell me where your base is located? I know you have one in our kingdom.”

You steeled yourself and gave them the information they wanted. The guards brought Xavier back into the room and the binds on your chair were unlocked. Your legs were a little shaky but you were still able to run over to Xavier. You try to envelop him in a hug but he pushes you away.

“Xavier, baby, it’s me.” You pleaded, trying to jog his memory again.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know who you are.” He said a little frustrated this time.

“I gave you what you wanted, now bring his memories back!” You demanded

“Oh honey, that’s not how that works. They're gone. I can’t bring them back even if I tried.” The main man chuckled. You could feel all the blood rush out of your face. .

“You son of a…” you trail off not finishing that sentence, you ran over to them but the guards stopped you before you could get any closer. “you said you would give him his memories back!” You shouted angrily struggling in their grasp.

Your feet start to move on their own, and you start to run towards the van, guided by the arm that is wrapped around your shoulders. One of the passenger doors slides open, and you’re ushered inside. The door shuts behind you loudly, and your mind is still reeling when a familiar voice shouts at the driver.

“Go, go, go! Drive!”

The driver starts to speed off, but not before another egg hits the van, smashing against the window closest to you.

“Loser! Stay away from Xavier!” 

The voices start to fade away, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” the familiar voice instructs. Xavier takes your chin in his hand and pulls it towards him. His usually bright eyes are clouded with concern, his hand trembling as he cups your face with it.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, his voice wavering. His fingers gingerly brush against your cheek, picking off the bits of eggshell that are still sticking to your skin.

“Xavier, I’m fine,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady.  “I’m more shocked at the fact that they decided to throw eggs. Those cost, like, a fortune,” you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“This is my fault,” he murmurs, fingers still lingering on your face. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know how they knew you were going to be there.”

Xavier had just finished recording a music show stage, and it was your first time watching him record live. He was worried about fans finding out about you, but you had insisted that you would be as discreet as possible, and promised not to draw attention to yourself. You had watched in awe as he completed recording in only two takes. He had seemed to be oozing charisma out of every pore, and his fans were eating it up. He had thanked the audience shortly after finishing, and had walked off backstage to deafening cheers. 

You had no regrets – watching him perform like that made your heart swell with pride. He gave his fans a stellar performance, and you felt privileged just experiencing it. You thought that it had all gone smoothly, and that you were out of the woods by the time the recording had finished and most of the fans had vacated the studio without so much as looking at you – to them, you were just part of the crowd. You were nervous, considering the rumors circulating online about you and Xavier, but you were thankful that none of them actually knew your true identity. That’s all you thought you were – just a rumor. The ambush at the back of the building was a rude awakening, and now you realize how careful you have to really be.

“Everything okay back there?” Xavier’s manager quips from the front passenger seat. He was the one that had hauled you into the van, away from the violent clutches of the mob of fans. He was the one you were meeting to make sure that you would safely make it to Xavier.

“Yeah, thanks, bro,” Xavier replies, his hand falling from your face. He grips your hand tightly, as if afraid that you’d slip away from him. “Just take us back to my place, please.”

His eyes are focused on the road, but his hand is still clutching yours, fingers digging into your skin.

—

“Ouch!” you hiss, wincing as Xavier wipes at your cheek. “Can you be more gentle?”

“Quit being a baby,” he teases, clicking his tongue. “I thought you said you were fine.”

You roll your eyes, but let him continue to dab at your cheek. You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub in his bathroom while he tends to your injury. An open first aid kit and an ice pack are laid out on top of a towel, on the tiles of the bathroom floor. 

“You’re bleeding,” he whispers, his fingers noticeably working more lightly.

There is a small cut from where the egg had hit you, but you’re more concerned about the bruise that has begun to form. Your cheek has also started to swell, and even blinking is beginning to prove to be painful. 

Xavier notices your eyes watering, and his hands fall away from your face. His brow furrows, and his jaw clenches and unclenches. He looks at you helplessly, unable to say anything. You can only imagine the guilt he’s feeling, so you reach for his hands, and give them a soft squeeze.

“Hey,” you say gently. “We knew this might happen. We just have to be more careful. But we’ll work through it, right?”

He casts his gaze downwards, unable to meet your eyes. You chew the inside of your cheek before you decide to reach for the ice pack on the floor next to him. You press it against your face, but then pull away from it immediately.

“Ugh! It’s so cold!”

This breaks him out of whatever headspace he’s in, and he chuckles, taking the ice pack from you. He wraps it in a face towel before placing it back on your cheek.

“Silly,” he mutters, blinking at you, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. 

He lifts his other hand and rests it against your uninjured cheek. You hold his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the inside of it. You meet his eyes and notice how clouded they are again, his unsaid thoughts and feelings swirling around behind them. 

“Let’s order in some food after I take a shower, yeah?” you suggest, and he nods slowly. “How about some dumplings? Or fried chicken?”

—

It’s been a week since you and Xavier had properly talked to or seen each other. He had been uncharacteristically distant – short texts and phone calls, with him always apologizing about having to go somewhere or do something important. 

You shrug it off, knowing he’s wrapping up promotions for his new single. Neither of you have brought up the incident since it had happened. You haven’t seen any posts on any forums talking about it – you were sure that someone from the group of fans would have at least mentioned it. You were dreading it, bracing yourself for all the online hate you were sure you were going to get. But there’s nothing – just radio silence. You shudder as you think of all the work Xavier’s team had put in to keep it under wraps.

With that behind you, you’re excited to finally get Xavier all to yourself after he finishes his promotions period. You let him focus on his work, not minding the distance between the two of you for now, considering that you’ll be able to spend time with him again once the week is over.

Your heart races when he finally texts you, asking to meet up.

> Hey. My place? Maybe around 8 PM. 

Your phone is in your hands as soon as the notification ding finishes, and you immediately start to reply, unable to stop your fingers from typing.

< Sure. Do you want me to bring anything? What do you want to eat?

You watch as he types out his reply, watching the speech bubble appear, then disappear and then reappear. It takes him about a minute to finish his text.

> Nah, don’t worry about it. Just come over.

—

Xavier meets you at the door to his apartment, but doesn’t invite you in. Instead, he closes the door behind him, and you notice that he already has his shoes on. There are dark circles under his eyes – it looks like he hasn’t slept properly for the last few days. He looks at you briefly, but then breaks eye contact.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says, his voice quiet. 

You nod, a little confused, but then follow him towards the elevators. He stays silent as you ride them down to the lobby, 

“Xavier, what’s wrong?” you titter anxiously, rubbing your hands together. “You’re making me a little nervous.”

He gives you a brief smile before turning back to look at the elevator doors. “Let’s just get outdoors. I need some fresh air.”

You walk out into the lobby, then to the entrance of the apartment complex with him. You continue to follow him as he heads outside, out onto the street. The night is quiet, and the street is empty – in that moment, you’re not afraid to be seen with him. 

On your usual late night walks, Xavier would walk while holding your hand, and would swing it occasionally as he chats with you. Tonight, he keeps his hands tucked away in the pocket of his hoodie, his shoulders hunched up.

You continue to walk for a couple of minutes, but then you sigh, exasperated. You’re about to address him again, when he speaks abruptly.

“Let’s break up.”

He says it so simply, without any emotion. Your feet stop moving, and you feel your entire body tense up.

“W-what?”

“Let’s break up,” he repeats, his voice flat. He finally looks at you, his face unreadable. You feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Xavier,” you start, your voice shaking. “If this is about what happened–look, I’m… I’m fine with–”

“You think this is about you?” Xavier’s voice is now dripping with disdain. “This is about my fans. It’s always been about them.” He tilts his head, and glares at you slightly. You feel your stomach sink, and your throat starts to feel tight. “You mean nothing to me. This last week has made me realize that.”

The contempt in his gaze makes you want to break eye contact, but you hold it for as long as you can. Tears start to roll down your cheeks, but you attempt to blink them away. He breaks away first, clicking his tongue.

“So is this it, Xavier?” you ask, barely able to contain a sob. “Is it over? Just like this?”

He now has his eyes trained at the sky, staring at nothing in particular. His replies to you in a cold, almost exasperated tone.

“We’re done. Go home. I don’t want to see you any more.”

You take a few deep breaths before turning away from him. You start walking away, not caring if he’s still standing where he is or if he went back to his apartment. You had taken a taxi to his place, but you can’t muster up the energy to call one to go home. So you continue walking, your feet shuffling forward on autopilot. You don’t know how long it takes you, but you eventually make it back to your apartment building. You continue to move in a trance, making your way up to your apartment, getting inside, then promptly getting into bed and pulling up the sheets around you. A wave of emotions washes over you as soon as you lay down, and you sob into your pillow, crying yourself out until you fall into a dreamless slumber.

You hadn’t noticed that Xavier had waited a few minutes before following you as you walked away, careful not to be seen by you. He watched as you made your way home on foot, making sure you were crossing the road safely, without any incident. He watched as you would occasionally pause, sniffle, wipe at your face with the sleeve of your sweater before continuing on your journey home. He watched as you reached the entrance of your apartment building, entered your code incorrectly, shook your head, and then took two more attempts before you finally got it right. He continued to watch as you turned the lights on in your apartment from outside your window, watched as you shuffled around mindlessly in the living area before finally turning the lights off and retiring to your room.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered into the night. “Forget about me. This is for the best.”