Xavier

You step forward smoothly, intercepting it midair like it was always meant for your hand. God, you’re good. You turn, a smile already playing on your lips.

“You ladies alright?” Xavier blinks. Once. Twice. He glances over his shoulder. Then to the side. Then back at you, brows knitting together just slightly. “…Who are you talking to?”

Your stomach drops. Oh no. “Oh—uh—” you let out a small laugh, waving your hand like it’s nothing, like you didn’t just flirt with empty air. “No one. Just—thought—never mind.”

He’s still looking at you. “Are you alright?” he asks, straightening a bit. “Didn’t you just get back from that mission? You hit your head or something?” Oh my god. You nod too quickly. “Yep. Totally fine. Just—brain lag. Happens.” Abort. Abort mission.

You give him a quick, tight smile and turn on your heel, shoulders slumping the second your back is to him. Behind you, Tara watches the whole thing unravel like a slow-motion train wreck, hand dragging down her face. “…I’m going to kill him,” she mutters.

Xavier doesn’t move for a second. His hand comes up to his mouth, thumb brushing his lip as he very deliberately looks away. But not before the corner of his mouth lifts. Just a little. “…Idiot,” he murmurs under his breath. His heart is beating way too fast for someone who just stood still the entire time.

He replays it. The way you stepped in. The way you caught it. The way you smiled at him... and yeah, he got it. Too late. He exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “You ladies alright?” he repeats quietly to himself. A soft huff of a laugh escapes him before he can stop it.

Across the room, Tara grabs your arm. “He LIKES you,” she hisses. You bury your face in your hands. “No, he thinks I have a concussion.”

“He is stupid,” Tara corrects. “That man would watch you rob a bank and ask if you needed help carrying the money.” You groan.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room. Xavier finally pushes himself off the wall. He’s now walking toward you.

His perspective:

Xavier clocks you the second you walk in. Not in an obvious way. He doesn’t turn his head, doesn’t straighten up, doesn’t do anything that would give him away. But his attention shifts. You’re here. That’s enough to anchor him for the rest of the night.

He tells himself he’s just observing the room. Standard habit. Situational awareness. Nothing to do with how his gaze keeps drifting back to you between conversations he’s not really listening to.

Nothing to do with the way he notes who stands too close to you. Who makes you laugh. Whether you look tired. You don’t. You look— He stops that thought before it finishes.

Then Tara moves. He notices that too. A flick of her wrist. Something arcs toward him. Xavier doesn’t flinch. He could catch it. Easily.

But before he even decides, you’re there. His eyes sharpen, just a fraction. You caught it. There’s a flicker of something in his chest. Pride? Maybe. Or— No. Doesn’t matter. Then you turn to him. Smile already in place like you planned this.

“You ladies alright?” There’s a pause. A very real one. Because Xavier’s brain just… stalls. Ladies? He glances to the side. Nothing. Behind him. Still nothing. Back to you.

You’re looking directly at him. Smiling. Waiting. Oh... Oh. Something in his chest kicks. You’re flirting with him. You. Flirting. With him. And it’s— God. It’s smooth.

So naturally, he fumbles it. “…Who are you talking to?” The words are out before he can stop them. He watches it happen in real time. And immediately— regret. He knows. He knows what you were doing. He just reacted too slow.

You laugh it off. You always recover fast. “Just—thought—never mind.” You’re already stepping back. Putting space between you and him. And Xavier hates that.

“…Are you alright?” he asks. “Didn’t you just get back from that mission?” It’s a weak recovery. He knows it. You know it. Everyone within a five-meter radius probably knows it. But it’s the only thing he can reach for without giving himself away.

You leave. Just like that. Smile tight. Shoulders not quite as straight. Gone. Silence settles around him, though the room is still loud.

Xavier doesn’t move. He exhales slowly, gaze dropping to the object still in your hand, no, was in your hand.

He replays it. Frame by frame. Your timing. Your expression. The line— “You ladies alright?” God.

His hand comes up, pressing lightly against his mouth as he looks away. A smile threatens. He kills it, but fails. The corner of his lips lifts anyway. “…Idiot,” he mutters. Himself. Obviously. Because he liked it. More than he should.

You stepped into his space like it was nothing. Like it was natural. Like he was yours to approach. Across the room, he spots you again. Tara’s talking. You’re hiding your face. Embarrassed. Because of him.

His jaw tightens slightly. Yeah. No. He’s not letting it end like that.

Xavier pushes off the wall. Straightens. Adjusts his sleeve, stalling for half a second, just to get his expression back under control. By the time he starts walking toward you again, he’s composed. When he stops in front of you, there’s the faintest hint of something in his eyes.