Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Xavier’s icey blue eyes squint at the bright LED sign in front of him, “It’s too early for this,” he grumbles noticing the growing crowd around the entrance of the school. After much trial and error Xavier finally found himself enrolled at the most prestigious Linkon Academy.

A familiar squeal catches his attention, turning his head he sees his closest friend, Tara running towards him, “I knew you could do it!” she beams as she gives the blonde a hug, “here you were saying that you’d live the rest of your days with your rich parents,” she giggles, “like a prince.” 

Xavier rolls his eyes, “Just because I’m the son of some big shots doesn’t make me a prince,” he glances down at his watch, “We still have over an hour before the orientation starts.” 

Tara loops her arms around Xavier’s, “We don’t get access to our dorms until tomorrow either,” she looks around at the crowd, “maybe we can sneak past them and explore campus a bit?” 

With a sigh Xavier agrees, “It's better than just standing out here I guess.” 

Braving the crowd, the two stick to the edge. They squeeze past the mingling bodies and push themselves out on the other side. On the other side of the large walls that surround the academy was a beautiful landscape. Many flowers line the pavement with large trees spaced out on the grass. In the middle of the courtyard is a giant fountain.

Xavier breathes in the fresh air, feeling a sense of calm wash over him as he takes in the tranquil view. The early morning light filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the vibrant flowers. Tara, too excited to savor the moment of calm, skips forward before turning to face Xavier with a wide smile.

“This will be our life for the next four years,” she takes a dramatic deep breath in, “and its beautiful!” she screams, waving her arms as she runs around the fountain. 

Xavier chuckles softly watching her run around. He shakes his head, amused but secretly enjoying the scene. Its a hard thing to deny that Tara’s enthusiasm lifts the ever-so-stoic boy’s mood up. Despite the buzzing crowd behind them, Xavier finds himself quite enjoying this change. 

“Slow down Tara,” he calls, unable to hide his smile, “You’re going to fall in!”

Tara immediately stops, giving Xavier a look, “What if thats the plan,” she calls back before jogging back over to him, “Xavier we are actually here! The Linkon Academy– the place anyone who's anyone graduated from!”

“Yes it’s nice,” his reply lacked the same enthusiasm, “but let's not get swept away by it.”

Tara rolls her eyes, “Yes, Mr.Buzz-kill as you wish,” she sighs, “always too cool for anything!” 

Xavier raises an eyebrow at the sudden change of mood, “I’m not ‘too-cool’ I just don't want to get lost in this whole ‘prestige’ thing. You know how people can get Tara.”  

“Yeah I know,” Tara replies, her voice softening as she rocked back and forth on her toes, “But we’re not like everyone else Xavi,” she grabs Xavier’s  hands, “this is our chance to live for ourselves . No more stupid networking parties or those silly family dinners,” she takes a step back to motion to the space around them, “this is our experience!” 

Xavier looks at Tara, her eyes bright with excitement, and for a moment he feels himself sharing the same feeling. He knows exactly what she means– they are different from the rest of the people at Linkon Academy. His entire life has always been lived based on the expectations of others– whether it be his parents or the pressure of the people around him who never let him forget just what type of family he was born into. But Tara? She was right, she never cared about the endless chess game of the social climb and saw this place as a chance at freedom that the two of them had never had. 

Still- Xavier couldn’t help but to be cautious, “I get what you're saying,” his voice wavering with uncertainty, “But, we still can’t pretend as though this isn’t another test,” Xavier looks at the entrance, “We are nothing but pawns to their game after all.”  

Tara's smile falters for a moment, and she steps closer, her expression softening as she looks at him with an understanding that only a true friend could have. "I get it, Xavier. I really do," she says gently, her voice carrying an unexpected weight. "But maybe we’re not just pawns. Maybe we can change the game."

Xavier scoffs lightly, still not fully convinced. “Change the game? Tara, these people—this place—it's been around for ages. You can’t just walk in and expect to rewrite the rules.”

Tara tilts her head, her eyes unwavering. “I’m not saying we have to rewrite it, Xavi. But we can definitely make our own path. Do things our way,” She takes a step back and gestures around the courtyard, the flowers, the trees, the fountain, "I don’t want to be just another face in the crowd. I want to take all of this— this experience—and make it ours. And you know what? I think we can ."

Xavier looks at her, the doubt still heavy on his shoulders, but something in her words feels... right. There was always a part of him that resented being a piece in someone else's game, trapped in the expectations of his family, his reputation. But Tara was offering something different—a chance to truly live without being confined by others’ definitions of success.

He sighs, his eyes drifting back to the grand buildings of Linkon Academy, their towering walls both imposing and majestic. “Maybe you're right,” he admits, his voice quieter now. 

Tara steps closer, her tone softer but still full of resolve. “I know it’s not easy, Xavi. I never said it would be. But we don’t have to do it alone. We’ve got each other, right? If anyone can figure it out, it’s us. We’ve already survived all the crazy stuff in our lives, this is just one more chapter. We can make it whatever we want it to be.”

For the first time, Xavier feels the weight of his words lifting. Tara’s unshakeable belief in both of them seems to carve away some of the doubt that had been festering inside him. Maybe the world didn’t have to define who he was. Maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a space for himself here—on his own terms.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. "I guess you’ve got a point, Tara," he says, the smallest of smiles starting to tug at his lips. "Maybe we can make it ours, after all."

Tara’s face lights up, a wide grin spreading across her features. “That’s what I like to hear!” She throws an arm around his shoulder, pulling him toward the center of the courtyard. "Now, let’s make the most of it. First step: let's find some trouble to get into. After all, what’s college without a little bit of mischief?"

Xavier laughs, shaking his head. "You never change, do you?"

“Nope,” Tara replies with a wink, “and you wouldn’t want me to.”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Xavier feels a genuine spark of excitement—maybe the game wasn’t as rigid as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to play by anyone else’s rules. With Tara by his side, it didn’t feel like the world was against him. It felt like there was a chance to create something new, something theirs.

"Alright," Xavier says, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the last of his doubts. "Let’s go see what this place has to offer."

And as they walk through the courtyard together, the golden sunlight reflecting off the water of the fountain, Xavier starts to believe that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something real.

….

Before the pair knew it, it was already time for the orientation. They had spent the morning exploring the general campus, wandering through the beautiful grounds and soaking in the atmosphere, but not bothering to enter any of the buildings. The vibrant flowers, towering trees, and peaceful fountain had been enough to keep them distracted.

As they walked side by side, Xavier glanced over at Tara, noticing how she seemed to glow with excitement. Even though they hadn’t set foot inside any classrooms or dorms yet, she was already fully immersed in the idea of this new chapter of their lives.

“We should probably head to the orientation now,” Xavier said, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Tara nodded but didn't seem in a rush. “Yeah, but can we take the long way? I’m not quite ready to dive into all the formal stuff just yet.”

Xavier smirked, a hint of amusement crossing his face. “You mean you want to avoid all the official stuff for a little longer?”

“Exactly,” she said, pulling him toward a quieter path that led around the edge of the campus. “Let’s just enjoy the calm before we have to deal with all the speeches, introductions, and whatever else they’re going to throw at us.”

Xavier laughed softly. “I can’t argue with that.”

They followed the signs to one of the large sports fields, where a stage stood at the edge with two large screens on either side, displaying the podium in the center. As they approached, Xavier hesitated, spotting the massive crowd that filled the entire field. His heart sank. He never liked crowds—too many faces, too many distractions, too much potential for trouble.

Tara noticed his hesitation and squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “Come on, we’ll be fine.”

But Xavier’s eyes didn’t leave the sea of people. The noise of chatter, the movement, it all made him feel a bit suffocated. "I hate crowds," he muttered under his breath, though he didn’t need to say it for Tara to understand.

“Welcome to Linkon Academy!” A man at the podium, the headmaster, shouted over the microphone, his voice booming across the field.

Tara gently tugged Xavier toward the edge of the crowd, giving him some space to breathe, not wanting to push his boundaries too much. “This is it,” she smiled at him, her excitement palpable despite the looming crowd. “Once we get the keys to our dorms, we can say goodbye to all the responsibilities that were shoved on us. No more family dinners, no more networking events. Just us. Living our lives.”

Xavier glanced at her, his usual guarded expression still in place, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hope, maybe, or the tiniest spark of relief. He didn’t say anything at first, but Tara could tell that his nerves were still swirling underneath his composed exterior.

She squeezed his hand tighter, her voice soft but determined. “You’ve got this, Xavi. We’ve got this. I won’t let you get swallowed up by it all.”

Media training had made Xavier almost impossible to read to an outsider’s perspective, but Tara knew him better than anyone. She knew that he was holding back, his internal world at odds with the calm facade he wore. And if he couldn’t free himself from the weight of his family’s expectations, from the pressure of it all, she would make sure she had enough fun for both of them.

"Thanks, Tara,” he muttered, the weight of his thoughts temporarily lifting as she gently guided him toward a quieter corner of the field.

Besides them sat a smaller group of guys, each of them not looking at the stage but rather the cards in between them. The silver haired one glanced up at Xavier and let out a low whistle, “We got some good eye-candy this year.” 

Xavier raises an eyebrow and looks over at Tara who is immersed in the speech before looking down at the group, “Pardon?”

Red eyes meet his, “You heard?” he asked, not bothered by the attention.

“I mean you weren’t exactly quiet about it Sylus,” another guy said, putting all of his cards on the floor, “I win!” 

The rest of the group groaned in exaggerated frustration, some rolling their eyes while the card player smiles smugly. Xavier blinks at the interaction, it was odd to say the least. He looks back at Tara and allows himself to smile slightly, it was never quiet around Tara afterall. She somehow attracted situations like this. 

Tara finally turns over to look at the group, “What happened?” 

Xavier shrugged, “Something about being eye-candy?” 

Tara’s lips curled into a playful grin. “Well, not like we can help it now, can we?”

Sylus chuckled, unfazed, and stood up, brushing some of the dust off his pants. His movements were smooth, almost too practiced, and Xavier found himself a little on edge. As Sylus extended his hand, his voice was as smooth as his demeanor. “Welcome to Linkon Academy, Pretty Boy.”

Xavier hesitated for just a moment, his earlier discomfort resurfacing. The last thing he wanted was to get tangled up in some attention-grabbing freshman stunt, but he took Sylus’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Right,” he muttered. “I’m Xavier.” He nodded to Tara beside him. “This is my friend Tara.” He offered them one of his signature half-smiles, the kind he’d learned to perfect over the years. “Nice to meet you.”

Sylus let go of his hand with a casual flick, his ruby red eyes scanning Xavier with a lingering look that made Xavier feel uncomfortably like a subject under inspection. “I’m Sylus,” he said smoothly, “I’m a Junior.”

Xavier and Tara exchanged a quick glance, both aware of the subtle undertone of the interaction. There was something about Sylus that didn’t sit right with Xavier—he wasn’t just sizing them up; it felt like something else.

Before Xavier could say anything, Tara stepped forward, her tone light but sharp. “Why are you lurking around the freshmen?”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Tara’s boldness. “Lurking?” he repeated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re a direct one, aren’t you?”

Tara crossed her arms, her posture confident. “I’m just curious.”

The group of guys behind Sylus chuckled, but he remained unfazed, his eyes never leaving Tara as he responded, “Maybe I’m just getting a head start on making the freshmen feel welcome.”

Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly, not buying it. “Uh-huh,” he said. It’s too early for this , he thinks with a sigh.

Chapter Text

The orientation completed without any other issues. Both Tara and Xavier quickly excused themselves after the unfortunate meeting of Sylus, walking back towards the now empty gate. Xavier checks his watch, “It’s almost time for my shoot so I’ll be heading out,” he sighs, “I’m ready to be done with these stupid promotions.” 

Tara gives a knowing smile, “Last one for at least a couple months! Just think of the soon to be freedom.” 

Xavier laughs, shaking his head, “I think I’ll go crazy with the peace if I'm honest.” 

Tara shrugs, “You say that now but I just have this feeling that there might not be any peace,” she changes her stance to mimic Sylus, “I mean don’t you remember what happened early,” she holds back a giggle and adds, “Pretty Boy.” 

The blonde gives a look of disgust, “and that's my cue to leave.” 

Tara bursts into laughter, she smacks Xavier on the shoulder, “Aww don't be like that! Besides– maybe that creepy junior might be useful in the future,” she wiggles her eyebrows, “will this be the lucky man to break down your ice cold persona Mr.Xavier? The heir of the Philos Inc.?” 

Xavier glares, “You’re actually insane you know that?”

Before Tara has a chance to come up with another retort, a sleek black car pulls up to the street in front of the gate. The chauffeur steps out, standing by the back door, ready to escort Xavier.

Xavier raises his hand and gestures toward the car. “And that,” he says with a smile, “is my ride.”

Tara rolls her eyes dramatically, a fake pout on her lips. “So not fair,” she says, crossing her arms as she watches him stroll toward the car.

Xavier gives her a small wave over his shoulder, a cheeky grin still on his face. “See you later, Tara,” he calls out before sliding into the backseat.

As the car door shuts and the vehicle pulls away, Tara stands there, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh, “Now what to do?” 

The car ride was suffocating, the silence heavy and oppressive as the miles passed by. Xavier kept his icy blue eyes fixed on the window, watching the scenery blur in a rush of unfamiliar streets and buildings. He barely registered the passing landmarks, too consumed by the thoughts swirling in his mind.

His hands clenched into fists in his lap, his knuckles turning white. Every muscle in his body felt tense, his nerves threatening to bubble over. He had been trained for this his entire life-- to be the perfect heir to Philos Inc., to wear that polished mask of composure no matter the cost.

From a young age, Xavier had been immersed in a world of expectations. Networking events designed to secure shareholder favors. Countless magazine shoots. Endless brand sponsorships,all chosen by his mother and father, handpicked to align with whatever image they wanted to project. His first memories weren’t of playing outside or carefree childhood moments, but of being carefully sculpted into the face of Philos. The perfect, immaculate heir.

The weight of it all pressed down on him. There was no room for error, no space to be anything other than the perfect figurehead of the company. Every smile had to be flawless. Every word, measured. Every gesture, calculated. Xavier had been told since he was old enough to understand that Philos’s success depended on him. Philos Inc. was one of the largest companies in Linkon, standing proudly as a titan in the world of technology and innovation. It was second only to EVER, a massive military weaponry conglomerate. The legacy was monumental, and Xavier was the one expected to uphold it.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, his reflection in the window showing a face that he barely recognized anymore. A mask of confidence, even though he knew it was all a carefully crafted illusion. He wasn't allowed to have flaws, not with so much on the line. Not when the company’s future, its influence, and its reputation rested in his hands.

Xavier let out a long, controlled breath, trying to push away the gnawing sense of suffocation. He hated feeling trapped, but he knew there was no escaping this life. Not now, not ever even if Tara said otherwise. 

The thought of his best friend helped him calm down, “What brand is this for?” 

The chauffeur makes eye contact through the rearview mirror, “It is a partnership with EVER’s new clothing line, sir.” 

“Brilliant,” Xavier mutters, his eyebrows furrowing as he watches the scenery blur past. “Just how many things do they need to stick their claws in?”

The chauffeur doesn't respond right away, his eyes focused on the road. After a brief pause, he gives Xavier a short, respectful nod. "Does it displease you, sir?"

Xavier rests his head against the cool window, his hand still clenched around the edge of the seat. He lets out a low sigh, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and resignation. “Not at all. This is great publicity for Philos,” he says, his tone flat as he stares at the passing world outside.

The chauffeur glances at him briefly through the rearview mirror, his voice calm and unwavering, “The madam would be proud,” he replies, a hint of approval in his words. “Spoken like the true heir.”

Xavier doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he watches the streets blur into a seamless stream of concrete and lights. His lips press together in a tight line as the weight of the words lingers in the air.

“True heir,” he repeats quietly to himself. 

After a while, the car slows down, and Xavier feels the change in momentum. He glances up, his eyes narrowing as the massive building comes into view. The towering structure looms in front of them, its steel and glass exterior reflecting the sky. The logo of EVER, the military weaponry giant, is plastered prominently across the front, bold and unmistakable in its black and orange design.

Xavier’s expression tightens, the familiarity of the place doing little to ease the discomfort building in his chest. EVER—second only to Philos, yet a company that always seemed to represent everything Xavier wasn’t. While Philos prided itself on innovation and technology with an air of sophistication, EVER’s power was rooted in brute force and control. A different kind of empire, one that always made him uneasy, despite their mutual standing in the corporate world.

The chauffeur slows down even more, pulling the car to a stop at the entrance. The cold, industrial air outside filters through the windows.

Xavier straightens up slightly, his eyes still locked on the warehouse,  "Here we are," he mutters under his breath, the weight of the upcoming meeting settling over him.

The chauffeur steps out of the car, walking over to open Xavier’s door, “I’ll let the madam know you’ve made it,” he says with a slight bow as Xavier walks past him. 

“Alright,” Xavier replies. He looks up at the looming building and forces himself to walk up to the large glass doors. A worker silently walks out to open the door for him, keeping their gaze down. 

So suffocating, he thinks as he walks into the modern building. The sleek, modern interior of the space offers little warmth, all clean lines and cool surfaces, devoid of character. Every employee he passes wears the same stiff black uniform, their faces as uniform as their attire. No individuality. No color. Just the same dark hair, the same expressionless eyes, all exuding the same bleak, robotic professionalism.

He barely registers them as they greet him with the same lifeless phrase, their voices offering no real warmth, "Good afternoon, sir," one employee says, rising from behind the front desk as he approaches.

Xavier's lips twitch into his usual business smile, his eyes scanning the space around him, picking up every small detail, even if he couldn’t be bothered to care. “Good afternoon,” he responds smoothly, his voice controlled and polished. He checks his watch with a casual glance, then looks back at the employee, “I am here for the partnership shoot?”

The woman at the desk doesn’t miss a beat. Her fingers fly over the keyboard, her gaze fixed on her computer screen, and within moments, she hands him a badge hooked to an orange and black lanyard, “Nice to see you again, sir,” she says, offering a stiff but polite nod.

Xavier accepts the badge, his fingers briefly brushing against hers. He gives her another quick smile before adjusting his suit jacket. “Thank you,” he murmurs, before glancing at the elevators in the distance.

The employee gestures toward the line of elevators with a flick of her wrist. "The photoshoot is happening on the 10th floor," she informs him, her tone robotic but polite.

Xavier gives her a brief nod of acknowledgment. He walks toward the elevators, his footsteps echoing in the sterile silence of the building. The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and as he steps inside, he can’t shake the feeling that this place—the people, the energy—was as suffocating as ever. Another step toward yet another event, where his smile would have to be perfect and his presence as flawless as the expectations thrust upon him.

He presses the button for the 10th floor, his reflection staring back at him in the polished metal interior. His hand rests lightly on the rail as the elevator begins its ascent, the soft hum of machinery filling the silence. He lets out a quiet exhale, trying to push away the creeping feeling of claustrophobia that always seemed to follow him into these spaces.

As the elevator climbs, his thoughts drift back to the weight of the family name, the constant pressure to be more than just Xavier. He wasn’t allowed to be a person in his own right; he was the heir of Philos Inc. the face of an empire.

The elevator stops as it reaches the 10th floor, and the doors slide open. A wave of noise and movement greets him, the controlled chaos of a professional photoshoot in full swing. Bright lights flicker and flash, casting sharp shadows against the sleek, modern set. The team is already set up—stylists adjusting lighting, assistants running back and forth, photographers getting their equipment ready.

Xavier steps out of the elevator, the familiar weight of the badge around his neck reminding him of his role in this world. No room for mistakes, no room for hesitation. His movements are smooth, almost mechanical as he walks toward the designated area, his expression neutral, perfectly crafted for the occasion.

A photographer looks up from behind the camera, "Xavier! Over here," he calls.

Xavier walks over, adjusting his suit jacket, the orange and black lanyard swaying slightly with his steps. He meets the photographer’s gaze and offers a tight smile, one that could easily be mistaken for genuine warmth but is, in reality, a practiced piece of performance, “Good afternoon Tobias.” 

The photographer’s eyes light up, “So you remember my name after all!” he says, his tone full of amusement.

Xavier chuckles, the smile coming more easily now. “You helped me during the last collaboration last summer, of course I’d remember,” he replies, his voice warm but still carrying the polished edge that had been ingrained in him for years.

Tobias grins, clearly pleased. “You flatter me,” he says, though his playful tone is quickly replaced by a more professional one as he gives Xavier a once-over, his eyes scanning his frame. “You’ll be wearing the newest athleisure collection for this shoot,” he adds, the enthusiasm creeping back into his voice.

Xavier raises an eyebrow, his mind shifting gears as he processes the shift in wardrobe. "Athleisure?" he repeats, a hint of amusement crossing his features. He wasn't expecting to go from his usual tailored suits to something a little more... casual, but then again, who was he to question anything?

Tobias nods eagerly, already gesturing toward a rack of clothes off to the side. “Yeah, we’re debuting the line soon. It’s all about blending comfort with high-end style. You’re the perfect fit for it. Trust me, it’ll look good on you.”

“Well then,” Xavier says, running his fingers over the soft material, “Where should we start?”

Tobias grabs a sleek black tracksuit from the rack, holding it up with a proud grin. “This one!” he exclaims, like a kid showing off a new toy. The suit looked minimalist yet luxurious, a perfect balance between athletic ease and refined style.

Xavier’s eyes linger on it for a moment, “Alright,” he takes the outfit out of Tobias’s hand, “I’ll get changed then.” 

Once inside the changing room, Xavier pulls the clothes on, the fabric soft and comfortable against his skin. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he’s struck by how different he looks—more relaxed, yet still undeniably him . It’s a strange contrast to his usual look, but something about it feels strangely freeing.

After a moment, Xavier steps back into the main room, and Tobias's eyes widen, his grin spreading even further. “See?” he says, clearly pleased, “Told you it’d look good on you.”

“I never doubted your skill,” he responds smoothly, running his fingers through his blonde hair to push it out of his face. He straightens his posture, taking in the room’s bustling energy before looking back at Tobias. “Is there a specific mood we’re going for?”

Tobias glances around briefly, his eyes flickering over the set as he thinks. “We’re aiming for something a little more dynamic today,” he says, his voice picking up energy. “Think active, but with an effortless cool. You know, a vibe where it looks like you're ready for anything but still look sharp while doing it. We want to capture that balance between comfort and confidence.”

Xavier nods thoughtfully, considering the description, “Effortless cool,” he repeats, already visualizing the kinds of shots that would work. His instincts, honed from countless shoots, kicked in. “Sounds doable.”

Tobias chuckles, adjusting the camera settings. “You make it look easy, that’s why we have you here.”

Xavier gives a small chuckle, though there’s a hint of self-awareness behind his smile. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

As the photographer adjusts the lighting, Xavier falls effortlessly into place, slipping into that role he had perfected so many times before: poised, calm, collected. The ease with which he transforms into the ideal image is second nature. He couldn’t let anyone down- not now, not ever. He was the face of Philos Inc., and that title carried more weight than most people could understand. Every move, every smile, every look was part of the larger machine that had been meticulously built around him.

There was no room for error or laziness when it came to his public image. To slip, even for a moment, was to risk everything he had worked for. Xavier couldn't afford to be anything but flawless—everything he did was scrutinized.

The hours blur into one another as the shoot progresses. Tobias pushes him through various outfit changes, each one more fitting for the athleisure theme than the last. Stylists rush around, making quick adjustments to his hair, fixing the crease in his shirt, or dusting off a smudge from the lens. The rhythm of the shoot is almost hypnotic—clicks of the camera, soft murmurs of commands, and the steady hustle of assistants running to and fro.

Xavier remains steady, his posture unwavering, the perfect picture of focus and professionalism. He poses as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, moving seamlessly from one look to the next. The minutes stretch on, the hours passing faster than he realizes.

Before he knows it, the sun has dipped below the horizon. The artificial lights inside the studio flicker on, casting a warm glow over the set. The photographer calls for one final shot, and Xavier takes his place, ready to give the last few moments of the day the same energy he had given from the start. He’s tired, his body aching from the hours spent in front of the camera, but there’s no sign of it on his face. His mask is still in place, as it always is.

When the final click of the camera echoes in the room, Tobias lowers the camera and gives a satisfied nod. “That’s a wrap. You did great, Xavier,” he says with a smile, his tone full of appreciation.

Xavier straightens up, his shoulders releasing a quiet tension as he allows himself a breath. “Thanks,” he replies, offering a small, polite smile. It’s not as effortless as it was in the beginning, but it’s still there. He knows the work isn’t done yet, but for now, the shooting part of it is over.

“It's a shame you’ll be taking a break for college,” Tobias sighs, “my camera will miss you.” 

Xavier blinks, a small crack in his perfect mask, “I mean I must get my degree,” he coughs a bit unsure on how to continue, “I’m sure I’ll be back in the spotlight soon enough, I just need to focus on my studies!” 

Tobias raises an eyebrow, catching the slight shift in Xavier’s usual composure. There’s a brief pause, and then a chuckle escapes him, light and knowing. “Of course, of course,” he says, nodding, as if to reassure both himself and Xavier. “Can’t let that legacy slip away.”

Xavier shifts on his feet, adjusting his posture just a little too consciously, as if trying to recalibrate the air between them. His smile returns, but it's a little more guarded now, like a door closing on a brief moment of vulnerability, “Well I’ll be off then.” 

“Yes of course,” Tobais extends his hand, “It was nice working with you again Xavier.” 

Xavier shakes Tobais’s hand, “You as well,” he looks down to check his watch, “I must get going now though, I can’t wait to see how the photos come out.” 

“They’ll be my best ones yet,” Tobias says, waving Xavier off as he goes to the elevators, “Have fun at the academy!” 

Xavier’s eyes widened, shock apparent, “Thank you.” 

As Xavier steps into the elevator, the doors closing with a soft chime, he lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The weight of the day’s shoot lingers in his shoulders, but it’s the conversation with Tobias that gnaws at him. The mention of college, the idea of stepping away from the spotlight, even for a short while, felt strange. His life had been crafted around this image, this constant presence in the public eye. 

The elevator starts its descent, the rhythmic hum of the machinery offering a kind of solace as Xavier watches the numbers above the door flicker down. The world outside the elevator feels distant now, like it’s receding further with each floor.

Suddenly, the elevator stops on the 6th floor. Xavier straightens up, looking wearily at the door, who could possibly be here still?

As the doors open Xavier braces for the worst– but one man stepped onto the elevator, he was wearing a simple dark maroon hoodie with black ripped jeans. Violet eyes lock with his blue ones for what seemed like hours, “I didn’t realize Philos’s prince would still be here,” the man remarks. Xavier stares for a bit longer, forgetting to answer. The man raises an eyebrow, stepping to the side, “I didn’t realize he was mute either.” 

Suddenly snapping back to reality Xavier covers his face, shame boiling in his gut, “Apologies, I didn’t realize you’d be here either.” 

The man lets out a soft, almost amused laugh, his violet eyes never leaving Xavier's face. There’s something almost unnerving in the way he observes him, as though he's not just seeing Xavier, but studying him, dissecting every nuance. He leans casually against the elevator wall, his presence somehow making the confined space feel even smaller.

Xavier shifts uncomfortably, his hand still hovering near his face in that automatic gesture of self-protection. The silence between them grows thick, the air pressing in on him, and for a moment, he wonders if he’s just imagined the exchange. Maybe this guy doesn’t even know who he is. Maybe he’s just some random person—though the feeling in his gut tells him otherwise.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," the man says, his voice low and suddenly comforting, "Just wanted to poke some fun is all.” 

“Oh,” Xavier responds, his voice small. Nobody has been able to tear off his perfect mask like this before. He’s dealt with paparazzi, stalkers, antis– but nobody was this quick to make him feel so open . He felt like an open book, each word revealing another part of his imperfect self, his whole world felt at risk.  

“Caleb,” the man says with a smile, holding out his hand for a handshake.

Chapter Text

Xavier sighs, looking down at his phone. His contact list was very limited– only containing immediate family, important shareholders, and Tara. Yet, Caleb had somehow made his way onto Xavier’s contact list. 

“Caleb,” Xavier recalls, cheeks heating up at the embarrassing memory. Of course EVER’s heir would be there to catch him off guard. He hardly registered who he was really talking to until the end of their awkward introductions in that elevator. His stomach churns at the thought of the man having dirt on him now, seeing him in such an imperfect state. 

“We have arrived, sir,” The chauffeur says, stepping out to open Xavier’s door. 

Xavier quickly wipes the uneasy look from his face, straightening his posture as he steps out of the car. The cool air nips at his skin, but it does little to quell the anxiety that threatens to drag him onto the pavement beneath his feet. The thought of Caleb, of all people, having front-row seats to a version of Xavier that not even his parents see feels like a weight that grows heavier with each step. 

He glances at the sleek building before him, its glass façade reflecting the city's lights, but the gleam doesn’t do much to lift his spirits. Xavier steps forward, his mind still clouded with the encounter that seemed so trivial at the time but now feels like a lingering shadow.

As he strides past the chauffeur, he can’t help but replay the awkwardness in that elevator—how Caleb’s cool, collected demeanor contrasted with his own internal scramble. The quiet laughter Caleb had barely held back still echoes in his ears, a reminder of how easily Xavier had slipped up in front of someone he should’ve been impressing.

The door to the building opens and Xavier’s attention snaps back to the present. He forces a smile at the security guard who greets him.

It’s just another night, he repeats in his head over and over, trying anything to convince himself that everything is okay. But, no matter what he does on the way up to his apartment, Caleb’s name seems to ring the loudest in his mind.  

Xavier’s footsteps echo in the silent, polished hallways of the building as he rides the elevator up to his apartment. The soft hum of the elevator’s machinery does little to drown out the voice in his head—Caleb, Caleb, Caleb. It’s maddening, how the memory of that brief, unplanned interaction keeps resurfacing.

He stares at the elevator doors, trying to keep his thoughts in check. But the more he tries to push Caleb from his mind, the more vivid the image becomes. The way Caleb had looked at him, those sharp violet eyes seemingly reading right through him. How had Xavier let himself get so flustered? It was a fleeting moment, barely more than an awkward exchange between strangers, but Caleb’s presence still looms over him.

The elevator dings as it reaches his floor, and Xavier steps out, shaking off the creeping anxiety. He pulls out his keys and slides them into the lock, pushing the door open with a soft click.

As he steps inside his apartment, the weight of the world outside vanishes for a moment, replaced by the quiet hum of his living space. Still, the unsettling feeling in his gut doesn’t dissipate. The apartment feels too big, too empty, like he’s trying to fill a void that’s only getting larger.

He sets his phone down on the counter, staring at it for a long moment before picking it up again. The screen flickers, and there it is—Caleb’s name, sitting innocently in his contact list. The realization of how easily Caleb had slipped in there makes Xavier’s stomach turn.

“Here let me just give you my number! I’m sure we will be seeing each other more often soon anyways.” 

Xavier mutters a curse under his breath and tosses the phone aside, pacing the room in agitation. "Get it together, Xavier," he tells himself. "It’s just one person. One stupid encounter. One... embarrassing moment."

But somehow, Caleb’s presence feels larger than it should, like a shadow hanging over him, refusing to let go.

Determined to forget about this new abnormality, Xavier decides that It’ll be an early night for him. Afterall, he is moving into the dorms tomorrow– he was going to be busy. 

No other reason at all. 

The blonde’s gaze drifts over to his bed, the neatly arranged sheets looking oddly inviting after the tension that has been building all evening. He pulls his outerwear off, tossing it to the floor for only a second before going back to neatly fold it. He falls forward to lay on his bed, his feet hanging off the edge. 

“You don’t gotta worry, your secret is safe with me!” Xavier recalls his violet eyes. With a groan he turns over on his bed, covering his eyes with both of his hands, “This is so foolish of me. I didn’t even tell him a secret nor does he actually have anything on me that could damage my reputation. I need to stop,” he mutters to himself.

Xavier's mind keeps circling back to Caleb, to that moment in the elevator where he felt so out of place. It wasn’t just the awkwardness of the encounter that bothered him, though. It was the way Caleb had seen through his carefully constructed walls. There had been something in those violet eyes, a knowing, almost predatory gleam– that unsettled Xavier in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

With a deep sigh, Xavier rolls onto his side, staring at the dimly lit ceiling. The apartment feels almost suffocating now, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him as the hours tick by.

"Why does this matter so much?" he mutters aloud to no one in particular. "It's just Caleb.” 

The words do little to ease the frustration building in his chest. But something about the way Caleb had so easily slipped into his life, the way he seemed to dominate every thought, bothered him more than it should.

His fingers twitch against the smooth sheets, and Xavier can’t shake the feeling that he’s not being entirely honest with himself. Was it really just an awkward encounter, or was there something more there? Something he hadn’t been able to fully process yet?

The quiet hum of the apartment contrasts sharply with the storm swirling inside him, and Xavier takes a deep breath, sitting up to rub his eyes. He wasn’t this vulnerable. He wasn’t supposed to be, not in front of Caleb or anyone.

"Maybe I’m just overthinking it," Xavier mutters to himself, running a hand through his hair.

The thought of tomorrow, of the move, of the fresh start in the dorms does little to ease the nagging feeling in his gut. He had always been in control, always kept everything in its place. But Caleb’s presence– uninvited and insistent, was starting to feel like the one thing he couldn’t control. And that terrified him more than he was willing to admit.

The soft glow of his phone screen catches his eye again. Caleb’s name still sits there, a small reminder of that ridiculous elevator encounter. Xavier reaches for the phone, staring at the contact for a few long seconds before he finally taps on it, typing out a simple, almost resigned message.

“Hey Caleb, it’s Xavier. Sorry about earlier. I was just caught off guard, I hope my behavior didn’t offend you.”

He hesitates for a second before hitting send, and immediately, he feels an odd mix of relief and apprehension. Why did he feel this way? It wasn’t like Caleb’s response would change anything, but somehow, now that the words are out there, Xavier feels a little lighter– almost like he’s released a tiny bit of the pressure that had been building inside him all night.

Still, as he sets the phone down once more, the unease doesn't completely fade. Caleb’s name may have left his screen, but it still lingers in the space around him.

With a groan, Xavier pulls the sheets up over his head, trying once more to push the thoughts of Caleb away. The night was meant to be about rest, about preparing for the next couple years of freedom.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that the next chapter of this “freedom” had already started—whether he was ready or not.

Chapter Text

The beeping of Xavier’s alarm woke him up. He hardly got any sleep with the insistent thoughts that ran throughout his mind. He swings his legs off his bed and silently gets ready for the day. Today is the day he truly gains freedom– even if just for a couple months at a time. 

After he gets ready, his phone lights up with a message from Tara. He glances over the novel she sent, concluding she will meet him at their favorite cafe that is down the street from the academy. 

Xavier smiles to himself, the corners of his lips tugging upward despite the restless night. He grabs his jacket from the chair, his fingers brushing against the familiar fabric as he steps into his shoes. The thought of meeting Tara, especially at their usual spot, brings a sense of calm to the chaos of his mind.

He quickly runs through his mental checklist: wallet, keys, phone—yep, all accounted for. He pockets his phone, briefly glancing at the time. He’s a little behind, but he’s confident she won’t mind.

The streets are quiet this early in the morning, the sun still just a soft glow behind the clouds. The cool air nips at his face as he walks, his thoughts drifting from the day ahead to the last conversation he had with Tara. There’s something comforting about the way they’ve always been able to just be together, no pretenses, no expectations.

The cafe isn’t far, and as he rounds the corner, the familiar scent of fresh coffee and baked goods greets him. He spots her sitting by the window, looking down at her phone, her dark hair tucked behind one ear.

He approaches, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You’re early," he says, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

Tara looks up, her eyes lighting up with a soft smile. "Only by a few minutes," she teases, setting her phone down. "You look like you barely slept."

Xavier shrugs, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down, “Maybe because I may or may not have completely exposed myself yesterday after the photoshoot,” his eyebrows furrow at the memory, “Not to mention It was Caleb of all people.” 

The girl raises her eyebrow, intrigued, “Caleb as in EVER’s Caleb?” 

“Yep.” His response was weak. 

Tara’s eyes widen, the fangirl part of her threatening to pop out. She holds herself back realizing her best friend’s sour mood about the situation, “What did your pants fall down or something and he saw you?” 

Xavier’s ears turn red at the thought, “No! He didn’t see any inappropriate things,” he pauses, trying to figure out how to explain, “He just saw right through me and I panicked.” 

Tara’s expression turns more serious as she nods, “Sounds to me like you guys had a normal interaction but you weren’t prepared for any of it so you didn’t have a chance to pick which mental mask to wear,” she shushes Xavier when he opens his mouth to speak, “I highly doubt you actually did anything wrong.” 

Xavier stays quiet, listening closely, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the edge of the table. Tara’s words settle into his mind, and he finds himself considering them more deeply than he had before. It’s true– he hadn’t been prepared for Caleb’s approach, hadn’t anticipated how vulnerable he’d feel at that moment. Normally, Xavier was the one who controlled the narrative, the one who carefully chose the parts of himself he let people see. But that moment had caught him off guard. 

Tara clasps her hands, “Before we continue talking about that overthinking mind of yours how about we get our drinks? Maybe a little donut as a treat for our big day today!” 

Xavier snaps out of his thoughts at Tara's suggestion, her words pulling him back into the present. He looks at her, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. "A donut sounds perfect right now," he says, his voice lighter than it was moments ago.

Tara grins and stands up, motioning toward the counter. "Alright, we’ll get something sweet to balance out all this deep talk. You deserve it. Plus, I think a sugar rush might do your brain some good."

Xavier chuckles, following her to the counter. The soft chatter of the café and the hum of the espresso machine fill the air, the comforting buzz a reminder that sometimes, the simplest things are what is needed to reset.

As they reach the counter, Xavier spots the variety of pastries on display. His gaze lingers on a chocolate-glazed donut, its shiny surface gleaming under the café lights. "I think this is calling my name," he says with a raised eyebrow, pointing at the donut.

Tara laughs, already grabbing a box. "Oh, you're definitely going for the indulgent option. I respect it." She turns to the barista. "Two cappuccinos, please, and I’ll take a cinnamon sugar donut."

As they wait for their order, Xavier feels the weight of the earlier conversation slowly lift. Tara’s ability to steer their focus back to something simple, like donuts and coffee, is exactly what he needs right now.

"Alright," Tara says as she picks up their drinks and pastries. "Let’s get back to our table. We’ll deal with the overthinking later."

Xavier follows her back to their table, his fingers already wrapped around the warm handle of his coffee. He feels a sense of calm wash over him, the comfort of familiar routines and the knowledge that Tara’s got his back.

As they sit back down, Xavier takes a bite of his donut, the sweetness almost a relief. "You know," he says with a full mouth, "today is definitely going to be a better day. Not just because of the donut,” He pauses to give Tara a dramatic look, “because I’ve got you here with me."

Tara puts down her cup, “You’re actually nasty.” 

“You’re so mean,” Xavier frowns, “here I thought you’d like that line.” 

Tara rolls her eyes dramatically, though her lips twitch as if fighting a smile. “Please, that was so cheesy, I’m surprised the donut didn’t melt from the cringe.” She takes a sip of her cappuccino, clearly enjoying the moment of teasing him.

Xavier slumps a little, resting his chin in his hand. “You’re killing me here, Tara. I thought I was being all charming and smooth, and you go and destroy me with that .”

Tara grins wickedly, leaning back in her chair. “Honestly, I think you might have been better off just sticking to the donut. At least that was sweet .”

Xavier snorts, shaking his head. “You really know how to cut a guy down. Here I am, pouring my heart out and you-” 

“Oh please,” Tara cuts him off, “I know deep down you’re cringing real hard. I actually have a question for you though!” 

A little thrown off at the change of conversation Xavier tilts his head slightly, “What is it?” 

Tara struggles to keep the smile off her face when she leaves in, “Is it true that Caleb is totally hot even off camera?” 

Xavier’s eyes widen, and he nearly chokes on his sip of coffee. He quickly sets his cup down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gives her a look of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” 

With a shrug Tara takes another sip, “Well unlike some people we don’t ever run in with the guy. I mean he's literally the heir to the biggest company in Linkon!” 

“I’m literally the heir to the second biggest company,” Xavier deadpans. 

“That's not the point,” Tara coughs, “The only place people even have a chance to see him is at the academy which even that's hard due to him being a year above us!” 

Xavier raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by her excitement. “You really are obsessed with this, huh?”

Tara leans in closer, her eyes practically gleaming. “It’s not obsession – it’s curiosity! I mean, you’ve worked with him, right? You’ve seen him in person! Just tell me! Does he actually live up to all the rumors?”

Xavier sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he leans back in his chair. “Alright, alright. Yes, Caleb’s good-looking, okay? Happy now?” His voice is a mix of annoyance and humor, but there’s no denying the faint blush creeping up his neck. 

Caleb’s violet eyes pop back in his mind– the way he looked at Xavier when they were in that elevator. Everything about that interaction causes butterflies to swarm in his stomach.

Tara watches him closely, her teasing grin faltering slightly as she picks up on the sudden shift in Xavier’s expression. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait,” she pauses,  "is there more to this than just his looks?” she presses, her curiosity piqued.

Xavier immediately catches himself, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. He clears his throat, attempting to brush off the way his mind wandered to Caleb's violet eyes. “Nope, that’s it,” he says, forcing a casual tone. “He's good-looking.”

“It’s so not fair,” Tara whines, “I want to meet him too!” 

“I mean if you actually showed up to those networking events I’m sure you’d catch him eventually,” Xavier teases, finishing his coffee. 

Tara groans in response, “Yeah whatever– he never goes to them either!” 

True , Xavier thinks back to all of the events he went to. Never once did he see Caleb there, only ever his father or mother. 

Xavier chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he watches Tara slouch dramatically. "Yeah, you're right," he says, his tone teasing. "Caleb’s probably too busy with other important things to hang around at those events. You know, being the heir to the biggest company in Linkon and all."

Tara gives him a playful shove. “ You’re no better, Mr. Second-Heir,” she shoots back, clearly not buying the teasing. "You’re at those events just to be seen, aren’t you? Hanging out with your parents, shaking hands, pretending to like the tiny talk about market trends."

“It’s not like I have much choice,” Xavier mutters.

“Sorry I didn’t mean–” Tara quickly backpedals, her tone softening as she realizes she may have pushed a little too far. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that,” she says, a little apologetic.

Xavier takes a breath, “Let's stop talking about this,” he stands up from the table, “we should go see the dorms.”

Tara watches him for a moment, sensing the change in his mood. Knowing she might have crossed a line she decides not to push it further. Instead, she stands up with him, brushing off the awkwardness. “Alright, fine. Dorms it is,” she says, giving him a playful nudge as they both make their way out of the coffee shop.

Chapter Text

The familiar large gates to Linkon Academy shine bright against Xavier’s blue eyes, here we are, he thinks to himself as both him and Tara silently walk towards it. Tara glances up at Xavier, ever since her slip up at the coffee shop Xavier has been eerily quiet, almost as if he was drowning in his thoughts. 

“Did you want to talk more about what happened before we take those steps into our new lives?” 

Xavier pauses for a moment, the sound of his footsteps slowing as he processes Tara’s question. He hadn’t realized how heavy his silence had become, how the weight of everything was slowly suffocating him. The gates of Linkon Academy loom before them, symbolic of this new chapter– yet, for Xavier, the threshold feels less like an opportunity and more like an unknown.

He glances at Tara, her expression soft with concern, waiting for him to open up. Xavier swallows, unsure whether he’s ready to lay bare everything that’s been swirling in his mind. After a long breath, he speaks, his voice quieter than usual.

“I didn’t realize how much Caleb's encounter affected me,” he admits, his gaze still fixed on the gates ahead. “I’m used to keeping people at arm’s length, to controlling what they see of me. But with him, it felt like all my walls crumbled in a split second.”

Tara steps closer, her shoulder brushing against his as they continue walking. She doesn’t interrupt, letting him speak his truth at his own pace.

“There was something in the way he looked at me. It wasn’t judgmental, but... like he was waiting for me to show him the truth. And it freaked me out.” He glances at her, eyes haunted with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “I’ve always been so careful, so guarded. But Caleb made me feel... exposed, like I was nothing more than a performance. It sounds stupid, right?”

Tara shakes her head, her voice gentle but firm. “No, it doesn’t sound stupid. You’re just human, Xavi. And Caleb wasn’t some random guy either. He’s the heir to EVER Industries– someone who probably has his own share of expectations and masks to wear. I can only imagine how much harder it must’ve been when you realized he was the one seeing behind yours,” she pauses, patting Xavier on the back, “but like I said earlier? You didn’t actually do anything wrong, you were just caught off guard is all.” 

Xavier lets out a short bitter laugh, “That's the problem Tara, I don't get caught off guard” 

Tara’s hand still rests on Xavier’s back, and she can feel the tension in him—an unease that wasn’t there before. She steps closer, a silent gesture to remind him she’s right there, steady.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” she says quietly, her voice almost a whisper against the backdrop of the academy’s gates. “You don’t let yourself get caught off guard. You’ve built all these walls around yourself so that nothing surprises you. But sometimes, life doesn’t give you a choice. Sometimes, you just have to react.”

Xavier doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he tries to process her words. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He’d always prided himself on being in control—of his actions, his emotions, everything. Getting caught off guard felt like a loss of that control, like a failure of his own carefully constructed armor.

“Maybe it’s not about getting caught off guard,” Tara continues, her tone soft but persistent. “Maybe it’s about learning how to let go when it happens. It’s okay to feel vulnerable, Xavi. You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to always have everything figured out. I know that’s hard for you, but you do have people who’ll stick by you when things aren’t perfect.”

Xavier turns his head slightly, catching her gaze. Her eyes are sincere, unwavering. There’s a softness there that he’s rarely seen in others– especially not in people who see him as an heir, a symbol, or even a facade. It’s just Tara , his closest friend, the one who’s always been there for him when everything else felt like it was too much to bear.

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I seriously don’t know where I’d be without you sometimes. Nobody can get me out of my head like you can.”

Tara’s smile softens at his words, her expression warm and understanding. She hadn’t expected to hear him say that, and a part of her feels like he’s letting her in more than he ever has before. It’s rare to hear Xavier admit that he struggles with something– anything, really.

“You don’t have to figure everything out alone,” she says quietly, almost like a reminder. Her hand rests gently on his arm, a small but grounded gesture. “And you don’t have to do it all perfectly , Xavi. I’ll be here- no matter what. Even when it feels like everything’s falling apart, I’ll still be around, okay?”

Xavier meets her gaze again, his chest tightening slightly, but not with anxiety this time. With something a little warmer, a little more comforting. He nods slowly, his lips curling into a small but genuine smile.

“I know,” he says softly. “And that means more to me than you’ll ever understand.”

They walk in silence for a moment, the familiar surroundings of Linkon Academy gradually coming into view as they approach the campus. The gates that once felt so daunting now feel less imposing, less like a barrier and more like an entry point into something new- a fresh start, one step at a time.

As they continue forward, Tara bumps her shoulder against his playfully, her voice bright with a shift in mood. “You know, just for the record, I’m not going to let you off the hook this easily,” she teases with a grin. “You think Caleb is good-looking!”

Xavier’s steps falter for a brief moment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he turns to look at Tara. The teasing smile on her face is too knowing, too mischievous, and his face immediately heats up in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“You can’t be serious,” he coughs, “It doesn’t mean anything if I say someone who is conventionally attractive is good-looking,” he shakes his head, “you’re the one who literally asked me if he was good-looking off camera and I just answered your question! That doesn’t mean anything!” 

Tara bursts out into a fit of laughter, hunching over, “A lot of defensive talk there Xavi!” 

Xavier crosses his arms, doing his best to maintain a serious face despite the heat creeping up his neck. “It’s not defensive,” he grumbles, his tone betraying him as his voice cracks slightly. 

T ara can barely catch her breath through her laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh, you are so easy to read,” she manages between giggles. “Honestly, you’re like an open book. A very pretty, brooding book, but still. The pages are wide open, my friend.”

Xavier shoots her an exaggerated glare, though his lips twitch at the edges. “I am not a book,” he says, though the sparkle in his eyes gives him away. “And I’m definitely not letting you get away with this. You’re the one who practically begged me for my opinion. If I was gonna answer honestly, that’s on you , not me.”

Tara wipes her eyes, finally managing to calm down, though the grin on her face is impossible to hide. “You’re right,” she says, voice laced with amusement. “I asked, you answered. I’m not the one trying to pretend like he’s got no feelings, Xavi. You’re the one who got all flustered!” She nudges him again with her shoulder, her grin playful. “I mean, it’s cute that you’re in denial about it, but seriously? Just admit it. Caleb might’ve gotten to you.”

Xavier’s face falls into the most exaggerated frown he can manage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, though his tone is far less convincing than it should be, “let's just get to the dorms already.” 

...

As Xavier and Tara walk toward the dorms, the campus of Linkon Academy unfolds before them like a carefully curated landscape. The towering trees lining the walkways sway gently in the breeze. The air smells fresh, tinged with the scent of blooming flowers from nearby garden beds, adding a touch of sweetness to the coolness of the day.

The ground beneath their feet is paved with smooth cobblestones, worn by the steps of countless students over the years. Small patches of grass peek through the cracks, a soft contrast to the orderly nature of the campus. The wide, open courtyard between them and the dorms is framed by stone pillars and arches, with fountains bubbling quietly in the corners, their water shimmering in the sunlight.

As they walk, the tall buildings of Linkon Academy rise up ahead, their classic ivy-covered facades evoking a sense of tradition and history. The dorms themselves are just up ahead, four sets of three-story buildings with large windows, each one reflecting the soft golden light of the early afternoon. The brickwork is a rich red, accented by green vines that climb up the walls, weaving through the windows and giving the building a touch of life and character.

In the distance, the sound of laughter and conversation drifts over from a group of new students gathered by the dorm entrance, some unloading their belongings, others meeting their roommates for the first time. The campus feels alive with the promise of new beginnings, every corner bustling with anticipation and excitement for the year ahead.

Tara nudges Xavier lightly, breaking his focus on the scenery. "This is it," she says, her voice soft but full of excitement. "Our new home for the next four years."

Xavier nods quietly, his eyes scanning the surroundings, but there's a momentary flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, tempered by the overwhelming feeling of change. The road ahead is unknown, but for the first time in a long time, he's walking it with someone who truly understands him.

Xavier and Tara slow their pace as they approach the staff member, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. She stands near a small table, where a few more staff members are sorting through papers and handing out keycards to new students.

“Dorms are split by gender, girls to the right and boys to the left,” the woman explains, her voice bright and welcoming. She gestures with a sweeping motion to the path that leads up to the two separate sides of the courtyard, each clearly marked with signs. To the right, the girls’ dorm is adorned with light pastel colors, and the left side, where the boys’ dorms are located, features more neutral, darker tones.

Tara nods enthusiastically. "Thanks!" she says, flashing a quick smile. She starts walking toward the right side, her gaze glancing over her shoulder at Xavier, who’s still standing, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he processes the information, “I guess this is where we split for now Xavi.” 

Xavier pauses for a moment longer, his eyes scanning the left side of the building, where the boys' dorms are. The large, arched windows catch the fading light, casting long shadows across the grass. He exhales slowly, “Yeah.” 

The stone path beneath his feet leads him forward, with the rhythmic sound of his footsteps joining the murmurs of other students. For a brief moment, he wonders what kind of people he'll meet here, what his year at Linkon Academy will bring. Despite his earlier unease, there’s a certain calm that washes over him as he approaches the building, the weight of everything outside the gates of the academy feeling just a little lighter.

As Xavier walks toward the boys' dorms, the soft crunch of the gravel path underfoot is almost meditative, giving him a moment of peace amidst the swirl of new faces and unfamiliar surroundings. The towering structure looms ahead, its dark stone facade contrasting sharply with the lush greenery that surrounds it. There’s a slight breeze in the air, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass and the faint smell of rain, though the sky remains clear.

The boys' dormitory is massive, its architecture traditional yet imposing, with heavy wooden doors at the entrance and wrought-iron balconies on the upper floors. The ivy crawling up the brick gives it a feeling of age, as though this place has seen countless students come and go over the years, each leaving their mark in their own way. There’s a sense of history here, and as Xavier steps closer, he feels the weight of it pressing in, as though the building itself is silently observing him.

He glances around as other new students make their way inside, some with their families, others with just their duffel bags and backpacks. The chatter of greetings and introductions fills the air, but Xavier feels oddly distant from it all, his mind still occupied with his conversation with Tara and the strange vulnerability he’s been grappling with. Even amidst the noise, there’s a quietness to him, a focus on the next step rather than the people around him.

The lobby is bright and airy, with high ceilings and an open, welcoming feel. The walls are decorated with large portraits of past students, some in formal attire, others in more casual poses, each one frozen in time as though to say, you’re a part of something bigger than yourself now. The air smells faintly of wood polish, mixed with the faint hum of a few nearby air conditioners.

A friendly-looking student at the front desk greets him with a cheerful smile. “Hey there! Welcome to the boys' dorms. You’ll be getting settled in soon?”

Xavier nods, offering a small smile in return, his voice steady as he responds, “Yeah. Just looking for where I’m staying.”

“Give me one second here,” The student behind the desk taps away at the computer, their fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. Xavier watches the screen light up, a momentary distraction as his eyes dart around the lobby, catching the portraits of students past. He can almost feel their gazes on him, as though they're silently assessing his place in the long line of those who’ve lived here before him.

"Got it," the student says, giving a nod as they pull a small keycard from a pile. “Room 203, second floor. You’re all set. Just follow the hallway down to the right, it’s at the end of the hall. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Xavier accepts the keycard with a polite nod, tucking it into his pocket. "Thanks."

He turns and heads toward the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the spacious lobby as he makes his way to the stairs. The sense of unfamiliarity still clings to him, the newness of everything, but there's also a strange comfort in the orderliness of it all. The routine of getting settled into a new place is familiar, even if the place itself is not.

As he climbs the stairs, he can hear the distant murmur of voices from other rooms, the hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional thud of a door closing. The second floor feels just as lively, and as he walks down the hallway, Xavier begins to notice the smaller details—the framed pictures of campus events, the hand-painted signs directing him to different wings.

When he reaches Room 203, he pauses for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. The door feels heavy under his grip, and the sound of the keycard clicking into place seems to resonate more than it should. He pushes the door open and steps inside, the room offering a quiet, calm space amidst the flurry of activity just outside.

The room is spacious, with a warm, welcoming atmosphere that contrasts the bustling energy just outside. The walls are painted a soft, neutral beige that complements the light wooden floors, making the space feel open and airy. The high ceilings give the room an expansive feel, as if it stretches beyond its four corners, and a large window, framed by simple white curtains, allows daylight to spill inside, casting a gentle glow across the room.

“You must be my roommate then,” Xavier jumps at the voice, quickly turning around to see who was talking. 

The man’s features are striking, almost ethereal, as though he stepped out of a dream. His hair, a rich shade of deep brown, falls in loose, natural curls that seem to shimmer with the light, as if each strand holds a secret. It frames his face perfectly, slightly tousled, giving him a relaxed, effortless look. He stands with a laid-back confidence, his posture casual but assured, as if he’s perfectly at ease in his space. 

There’s something magnetic about him, an energy that fills the room without him needing to say much. His presence is both calming and electrifying, making it hard for Xavier to focus on anything else but the strange feeling of having just met someone who seems both familiar and completely foreign.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the man says with a small smile, his voice smooth and warm, like a melody. He steps forward slightly, offering his hand in a friendly gesture. “I’m Rafayel. Looks like we’re roommates.”

Xavier, still processing the sight before him, shakes Rafayel’s hand, a bit caught off guard by the natural ease with which he holds himself. He offers a tight smile, still trying to get used to this new, unexpected dynamic. "Xavier," he says, his voice a little rougher than he intended, the nerves just beneath the surface.

Rafayel’s smile widens, and there’s a knowing glint in his eyes as he looks around the room. “I was wondering who my roommate was, never saw you once yet, your side of the room is completely set up.” His gaze lingers on Xavier for a beat too long, almost as if he's sizing him up, but the moment quickly passes, and he steps back to let Xavier into the room, “I’m still moving my stuff with the help of a friend, hope you don't mind.” 

Xavier steps more into the room, his mind still trying to process the surreal feeling of meeting someone like Rafayel. It’s not just the man's striking looks or the calm yet electrifying energy he exudes, but the fact that there’s something about him that feels almost... timeless, as if he doesn’t quite belong to this place- or maybe he belongs to every place.

“No problem,” Xavier says quickly, trying to shake off the unease that settles in his stomach. He glances around, noticing that Rafayel’s side of the room is still in the process of being unpacked. A few boxes are stacked against the wall, and there are clothes draped over the back of a chair, a sign that things are still in flux. But it’s clear Rafayel’s style is evident already– simple yet with a certain edge, an effortless coolness that makes everything look intentional.

Xavier’s gaze lingers on his side of the room, noting the order imposed on the space. His bed is made to military precision, each corner tucked neatly under the mattress. His desk is organized with a minimalist approach– books stacked just so, a notebook and pen positioned in an exact alignment, and a bottle of water beside them, perfectly placed. There’s something about the meticulousness of it all that gives the room a sense of stillness, as if every item in it is positioned to maintain a controlled balance.

I’m sure mother set this up, Xavier thinks, a flicker of disappointment rising within him, quickly buried under a practiced layer of indifference.

He can almost picture her in his mind now– her gentle but unyielding voice instructing him on the importance of order, of keeping things neat and perfect. It’s what she’s always done, always expected. The thought stings in a way he’s come to expect but tries to push aside. His mother’s presence, always so carefully controlling, has followed him into this new space, making it feel less like his own and more like an extension of the life he’s tried so hard to escape.

The room, while perfect, feels more like a reminder of expectations than a place to truly settle into, to make his own. It’s not his fault; he never asked for this kind of perfection, never asked for his world to be shaped so deliberately by someone else’s hand. But it’s there, and no matter how much he wants to break free, there’s always that underlying weight, the constant pressure to be flawless, to maintain the image others expect of him.

Xavier’s gaze snaps back to the door at the sound of the loud bang. His heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden noise. He looks over just in time to see Rafayel swing the door open, a wide grin on his face as he laughs.

“I told you it was heavy!” Rafayel says, his voice light, filled with amusement.

Xavier raises an eyebrow as he watches the scene unfold, his tension easing slightly at the sight of Rafayel’s easy going demeanor. But before he can respond, another voice, familiar yet unexpected, follows.

“Yeah, when you said ‘heavy,’ I thought you meant like max 50 pounds,” the voice pants, followed by a small groan. “This? This is at least double– no, triple that!”

Xavier’s eyes widen as the second person steps into view. His chocolate brown hair tousled from the exertion, Caleb’s broad shoulders fill the doorway, and his warm, confident grin is unmistakable. But it’s his eyes that catch Xavier off guard, a glint of recognition flashing in their depths as they meet Xavier’s gaze.

“Caleb,” Xavier’s voice barely rises above a whisper, thick with disbelief.

For a brief moment, everything around them seems to slow. The noise of the hallway fades, the bustling voices dim, and all Xavier can hear is the pounding of his own heart. He didn’t expect to see Caleb here.

Caleb’s gaze flickers over Xavier, his smile faltering just slightly, but it doesn’t fully disappear. Instead, his lips curl into a small, almost rueful grin as if he’s surprised but not entirely shocked.

“Xavier,” Caleb says, his voice low, smooth, but with a hint of something that Xavier can’t quite read. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Xavier stands frozen, his mind scrambling for the right thing to say, but before he can respond, Rafayel steps forward, effortlessly bridging the distance between them.

“Well, looks like we don't need any introductions then,” Rafayel jokes, his tone playful and light, though there’s a slight flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he looks between Xavier and Caleb. “Small world, huh?”

Xavier swallows, his throat dry as he tries to keep his voice steady. What are the odds? The universe seems to be forcing their paths to cross again. Caleb, right here, in the same space. It feels like a twist of fate, one that Xavier isn’t entirely sure he’s prepared for.

Chapter Text

Xavier straightens his posture, his jaw clenched in an effort to suppress any sign of the surprise or vulnerability that had crept in moments ago. His eyes remain locked on Caleb, though his mind races, trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. He can’t afford to let Caleb see any crack in his armor, not after the encounter in the elevator.

Stay controlled , Xavier tells himself, Stay composed .

Caleb, however, seems completely at ease, his casual stance almost mocking in contrast to Xavier’s tightly wound demeanor. His smile doesn’t fade, but there’s a certain understanding in his gaze, like he’s aware of the walls Xavier’s desperately trying to rebuild between them.

"Yeah I’m already familiar with this one," Caleb says, his voice light and teasing, though there's an undertone of something more complex in it– something Xavier can’t quite place.

Xavier forces a tight smile, masking the anxiety gnawing at him. “We met due to company ordeals,” he replies, his tone as neutral as he can make it. “Small world, as you said.”

Rafayel, ever the easy-going presence, chuckles from the side, clearly noticing the tension. "Company ordeals?" he asks, his curiosity piqued. His tone is playful, but there’s a sharpness there, a quick read of the dynamic that’s unfolding before him.

Xavier takes a breath, unwilling to let this encounter derail him any further. He needs to be the one to control the situation, to be in charge. He looks at Caleb briefly, then turns his gaze back to Rafayel, offering a clipped nod. "Unfortunately I cannot disclose what the specifics are," he explains, his words measured and calm, betraying none of the tension building inside him.

Caleb, however, steps a little closer, lowering his voice just enough for only Xavier to hear. "Are you okay?" His eyes flicker with something unspoken, and for a brief second, Xavier feels the weight of the question more than he’s willing to admit.

Xavier’s breath catches, but he doesn’t falter. His hand clenches into a fist by his side, his fingers tingling with the need to remain perfectly still. Stay composed , he repeats mentally, like a mantra.

"Yes," Xavier answers quietly, his voice controlled, almost detached. 

Caleb’s face falters, but only for a second before it stretches back into that same easy smile. "Well, I guess I should apologize for not texting you back," he says, "I got a bit busy helping out this one,” he motions to Rafayel who is busy rummaging in his boxes.

Xavier doesn’t respond immediately. The words catch in his throat, and for a moment, he’s thrown off balance. The pull Caleb has over him, the unsettling feeling that something is always just beneath the surface between them, is impossible to ignore. He takes another steadying breath and forces himself to look away, taking in the room around him, focusing on the mundane details to ground himself, “It’s alright.”

Caleb tilts his head, watching Xavier for a moment, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Xavier can feel the weight of Caleb's gaze, the way it lingers just a bit too long, like he's trying to read him, to decipher the carefully constructed layers Xavier has built over the years.

R afayel, oblivious to the tension, finally pulls his head out of the box he's been rummaging through, his face lighting up in a smile as he holds up a box of snacks. “Found the chips! I think we’re good for a snack break, yeah?” He glances between the two of them, a subtle awareness of the mood shift hovering around his eyes, though he doesn’t press it.

Caleb laughs, turning his attention towards Rafayel, “Perfect, I was wondering when you’d feed me!” 

Rafayel chuckles and tosses the box of chips to Caleb, who catches it effortlessly, still grinning. The lightheartedness of the moment doesn’t fully erase the undercurrent of tension between Caleb and Xavier, but it certainly pulls the attention away from it, if only briefly.

“You know, you could at least act surprised when I feed you,” Rafayel teases, sitting down on a nearby chair with sparkling water in hand. “You’re always so predictable, Caleb.”

Caleb grins and rips open the bag of chips, popping one in his mouth. “Predictable, huh?”

Xavier lets out a quiet breath, his focus shifting slightly as he watches Caleb casually settle into the group dynamic. There’s something disarming about the way Caleb can slide into moments like this, effortlessly weaving himself into the room, like he belongs. Xavier, on the other hand, feels like he’s constantly working to keep his distance, to keep the fragile walls between them intact.

Rafayel looks back at Xavier, his expression still light, though there’s something in his eyes that suggests he’s aware of the unspoken tension, “Did you want any Xavier?” 

The blonde shakes his head slightly, “No thanks, I appreciate it though.” 

“Suit yourself,” Rafayel says with a shrug. He turns his attention to Caleb, “So, how’s the move going, Caleb? Got everything set up yet, or is this all part of the chaos?”

Caleb leans back, popping another chip in his mouth with a lazy grin. “Oh, you know, same old. A bit of chaos here and there, but I thrive on it,” he says with a shrug, his eyes briefly flicking toward Xavier before returning to Rafayel. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve got to do this alone. Got plenty of help.”

“I thought freshmen weren’t allowed in the upperclassmen dorms?” Rafayel asks.

Caleb raises an eyebrow, “We live in the same building.”

Rafayel blinks, clearly caught off guard by Caleb’s response. “Wait, seriously?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Did you not pay attention to literally anything I told you before you applied here?” Caleb sighs, “freshmen and sophomores share the same building and then juniors and seniors share the other one.” 

“Oh yeah,” Rafayel nods, “So who’s your roommate then?” 

“I don’t have one,” Caleb says before eating another chip. 

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "No roommate?" He lets out a low whistle. "Must be nice. You get the whole place to yourself, huh?"

Caleb shakes his head, “It's suffocating sometimes– just the perks of being heir I suppose.” He glances over at Xavier who is sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, “I’m actually surprised they let you have a roommate Xavier.” 

“Huh,” Xavier’s attention snaps back to Caleb, his neck and ears flushing. He said my name.

Caleb’s eyes glimmer with something that feels almost like amusement, but it’s hard to tell if he’s being genuinely curious or if there’s something else behind his words. “I mean- the heir of Philos sharing a room?” he continues, his voice low and casual, though there's a certain edge to it now.

Xavier’s fingers tighten around the edge of the blanket beneath him, the sudden discomfort making him shift slightly. He meets Caleb’s gaze, masking the flush rising in his neck with a deliberate, controlled exhale. "I requested it," he says simply, though it comes out sharper than he intends.

Rafayel, sensing the tension that suddenly fills the room, looks between the two of them, trying to gauge what just happened. He doesn’t push, instead, taking another chip from the bag and chewing thoughtfully. "Wow I’m in the same room with the two richest boys in all of Linkon," he muses, trying to ease the awkwardness with a neutral comment.

Caleb shrugs, unconcerned by the atmosphere he’s stirred up. "Yeah, maybe I should take you out to one of those fancy networking dinners," he says, his grin never fading as he tosses another chip in his mouth. "You know, Xavier, I’m surprised we haven’t had a proper conversation until now,” he says as his violet eyes burn into Xavier’s.

Xavier’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t give Caleb the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. He forces his posture to remain still, even as his pulse ticks up. "I guess we just kept missing each other," he replies flatly, his gaze turning away from Caleb’s.

Caleb’s grin widens, and there's something almost predatory in the way his eyes linger on Xavier. He leans back slightly, tilting his head as if savoring the effect his words are having. “Mm, right,” he says, his tone smooth.

Rafayel, catching the tension simmering between them again, takes a moment before speaking, his voice purposefully light. "Well I’m sure you both will be seeing more of each other now," he says, "could be good for,” he pauses before muttering under his breath, “whatever this is."

Xavier’s eyes flick briefly toward Rafayel, a tight practiced smile forming as he attempts to regain his composure. "Yeah," he says, "But I’m sure Caleb will be busy with his studies and stuff. We won't really have the chance to run into each other much.”

Caleb chuckles softly, clearly picking up on the shift in Xavier’s tone, but he doesn't back down. His eyes glint with something unspoken as he lets the moment hang in the air. "Ah, so you're trying to say I won’t be seeing much of you, huh?" 

Rafayel, ever the peacekeeper, lets out a light, nervous laugh, trying to steer the conversation in a less charged direction, “I’m sure he didn’t mean in that way.” 

Xavier’s gaze turns to Rafayel, the slightest hint of gratitude passing through his otherwise stoic expression. He gives a sharp nod, then turns his focus back to Caleb, his voice unwavering. "I didn’t mean it that way," he replies, his words clipped but polite. "Simply stating that I’m sure we won’t have overlapping schedules. We’re not exactly in the same circles."

"Sure, sure," Caleb says, "I guess we’ll see how things go. After all, fate has a funny way of bringing people together."

Rafayel glances between them, his mouth quirking into a half-smile as he realizes the tension is far from over. He shifts in his seat, leaning back slightly and picking up another chip from the bag, taking a casual bite as he observes. “Well, whatever happens, I’m just here for the snacks," he adds, his tone lighthearted, trying to pull them back into a more neutral space.

Xavier’s phone rings, he looks down at it to see Tara’s name, perfect timing as ever Tara, he thinks. 

Xavier’s fingers hover over the screen for a moment before he swipes to answer, “Hello?”

On the other end of the line, Tara’s voice is immediately bright, but there’s a hint of urgency that cuts through. “Xavier, you’re not going to believe what I just found out.” She pauses, clearly savoring the suspense. 

The blonde excuses himself out of the suffocating room, finding a quiet corner in the hallway to stand, “What did our little detective find out this time?” 

Tara’s voice lowers slightly, the thrill of discovery evident in her words. “Apparently Caleb is really good friends with a freshman! You need to find out who this is for me so I can meet him,” she giggles, “I just want to see him in person at least once! You can do that for me right?” 

Xavier eyebrows furrow, There's no way this is happening to me right now.

“How about you use your fangirl superpowers and find him yourself?” 

Tara sighs, “That's just too simple! I need my savior and prince charming Xavi to introduce us to each other!” 

Xavier pinches the bridge of his nose, the pressure building behind his eyes. His thoughts swirl with frustration. Of course , Tara would turn this into some kind of mission for him. He lets out a quiet sigh, trying to rein in his growing annoyance. “You know,” he starts, his voice laced with dry humor, “I’m starting to think your ‘savior and prince charming’ routine is just code for ‘make Xavier do all the work.’”

Tara lets out a dramatic gasp on the other end of the line, clearly delighted by his response. “Oh please, Xavi, you know you love it! Who else could pull this off like you?” She giggles, the sound too cheerful for the situation at hand. “Besides, it’ll be fun! Maybe it’ll help you get over these nerves you have about him!”

Hard to do that when he's literally in my dorm right now, Xavier sighs again, “I really don’t know Tara– I didn’t exactly come here to be a stalker, It would be quite unprofessional of me to do so.” 

“Hey!” Tara scolds, “You are not stalking anyone! You’re just helping your best friend meet some people okay?” 

There's just no way this is happening, Xavier takes a deep breath, trying his best to stay cool, “Or, how about you just come to the dorms yourself and find out.” 

“They allow girls in the boy’s dorm?” Tara asks, shocked. 

“Nope,” Xavier says before hanging up the phone. He quickly sends a text to Tara reading, “DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT” before pocketing his phone, letting out yet another deep sigh. 

As he stands there, he can still feel Caleb’s presence in the room, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through the mask Xavier had carefully crafted, the unnerving way Caleb always seemed to know exactly what to say to unnerve him. Xavier tries to shake the feeling off, but the thought of Caleb’s casual remarks and the way his gaze lingered makes his stomach turn in ways he can’t quite articulate.

He checks his phone again, half expecting a flood of texts from Tara, but there’s only a single message from her.

Tara: I’ll be a good girl I swear : ( 

Xavier exhales sharply, shaking his head with an exhausted chuckle. I’m already regretting this, he thinks, already dreading the moment she finds her way into the dorms. He texts back quickly:

Xavier: “You are NOT getting in, end of story.”

He hits send, pocketing his phone once again. The last thing he needs is a visit from Tara on top of everything else going on. As he walks back toward the room, he steels himself, preparing to face whatever awkwardness Caleb and Rafayel have left in their wake.

But the moment he steps back inside, Caleb’s eyes flick toward him again, the grin never quite reaching his eyes, leaving Xavier feeling like he’s about to walk into a trap. Caleb’s gaze lingers just a moment too long, the unspoken tension thick between them.

"Everything alright?" Caleb asks, his voice casual, almost too casual, like he's deliberately poking at the nerves Xavier’s trying so hard to hide.

Xavier meets Caleb's eyes, his jaw tightening. The last thing he wants is to show anymore weaknesses, especially not with Caleb watching him so closely. “Fine,” he responds flatly, his voice clipped, as he steps further into the room, the air thick with the kind of unspoken challenge only Caleb can provoke.

Caleb watches him with that infuriatingly confident expression, as if savoring the discomfort radiating off Xavier. He says nothing more, though the silence between them feels loaded with more questions than either of them is willing to ask aloud.

Rafayel, sensing the shift, clears his throat, breaking the quiet that had stretched between the two. “Alright, alright,” he says, his tone light, trying to ease the atmosphere with humor. “I think it’s time for me and Caleb to get out of here before this turns into a soap opera. But hey, Xavier, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Xavier nods briefly, his gaze flicking toward Rafayel before his attention returns to Caleb. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice still tight, but his words are enough to keep things moving.

Rafayel shoots Caleb a knowing look,  before he grabs his jacket and heads for the door, leaving Xavier alone in the room. The door clicks shut behind them, and Xavier can feel the tension hang in the air, thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

How am I supposed to handle this? Xavier thinks as he falls backwards on his bed, he covers his face with his arm, hiding his flushed cheeks from the world. Why does he affect me this much? 

Xavier lies there for a long moment, his arm shielding his face as if the simple act of blocking out the world could somehow silence the storm brewing inside of him. His mind races, each thought colliding with the next in a chaotic whirl of confusion, irritation, and something far more unsettling. Caleb. The way he makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to. It’s as if Caleb can read him like an open book, flipping through pages Xavier thought he’d kept carefully hidden.

Why does he affect me so much? Xavier repeats in his mind, trying to understand it, trying to rationalize this unease that feels more like a warning than just discomfort. He’s never had trouble maintaining his composure before, never struggled with keeping his walls intact. Yet Caleb seems to have an uncanny ability to chip away at those walls without even trying.

Taking a deep breath, Xavier finally pulls his arm away from his face and stares at the ceiling, the stillness of the room almost suffocating. He can hear the faint echoes of laughter in the hallway from Rafayel and Caleb, their carefree conversation a stark contrast to the storm inside his own mind.

Caleb’s words keep replaying in his head: “I’m actually surprised they let you have a roommate, Xavier.” That casual remark, seemingly innocent, had cut deeper than Xavier expected. 

The issue isn’t the remark itself. It’s the undertone– the way Caleb made him feel like he was being sized up, evaluated like some puzzle Caleb was determined to solve. And worse, Xavier had felt himself slip, even if only for a second. He can’t let Caleb see that. He can’t let anyone see that side of him.

With a frustrated sigh, Xavier pushes himself off the bed and stands up, pacing the small room. Stay in control. Stay composed. That’s what he keeps telling himself, but the more he thinks about Caleb, the harder it becomes. The question echoes louder now: Why does he make me feel like this?

Chapter Text

Xavier’s idea of his first night fully in the dorm was nothing like this. He imagined himself maybe getting along with his roommate, or perhaps even going out with Tara. Yet, here he was in bed, in the eerily quiet room by himself. 

Xavier's mind buzzes with confusion and frustration as he stands, pacing the confines of his dorm room. The quiet hum of the fluorescent light above him does little to ease the noise swirling in his thoughts. Caleb's presence still lingers in the air like a scent he can't shake off, and it's driving him to the edge.

Every time Xavier thinks he’s found a solid grip on himself, Caleb seems to slip through the cracks, poking and prodding, testing his defenses. It’s not just the teasing or the easy way Caleb has of disrupting the flow of the room. It’s the way he makes Xavier feel—exposed, even in the most mundane of moments.

Xavier pauses by the window, staring out into the darkness of the campus, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The cool air creeping through the window doesn’t bring any relief; it only sharpens the gnawing sensation in his stomach. He wants to push everything aside, to just get through this—through the tension, through Caleb’s presence, through this uncharted territory that’s starting to feel like quicksand.

He looks down to the pavement, seeing the last of the students, parents and friends trickle out of the dorms. Placing his hand on the window, he watches the interactions closely, a part of him wishing he was out there. 

Philos’s Prince , the title cuts him deep. He was raised to perfection, not a single flaw could be found with him or his background. He never got into a single scandal, never had one problem with the public. Even with different sponsors and other companies, Xavier’s persona was perfect. 

Yet, a part deep in Xavier wishes he didn’t have all this pressure to uphold. He wished that he could be more like Tara. She was the second born to a smaller yet successful company. Even though they are a part of the same world, she would never truly know how it felt. 

Xavier presses his forehead against the cold glass of the window, a small shiver running down his spine as the wind picks up outside. The quiet, still night seems to stretch endlessly before him, offering a moment of solace from the chaos that seems to have found its way into his life with Caleb.

The title of Philos’s Prince still clings to him like a weight he can’t shed, an identity that everyone else sees, but one he himself feels disconnected from. He was groomed for this role, conditioned to play the part of the perfect heir, to never falter, to be untouchable. And yet, as the night deepens and the familiar hum of the campus lulls around him, Xavier can't shake the feeling that the mask he's spent so long perfecting is starting to crack. Caleb, with his relentless teasing, his casual demeanor, and his uncanny ability to find the chinks in Xavier’s armor, makes that mask feel more like a prison.

He leans back, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. It’s not just the weight of his family’s expectations that’s suffocating him. It’s everything that comes with it—the carefully curated life, the endless obligations, the constant pressure to be more than just himself. Tara’s carefree attitude and lightheartedness seem like a distant dream in comparison. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to constantly have to live up to something greater than yourself, something unreachable. Xavier envies that freedom, even as he’s bound to this invisible chain of perfection.

But even as he stands there, silently brooding over the life he’s been handed, his thoughts inevitably wander back to Caleb. That damn, effortless grin, the way he looks at Xavier like he’s already figured him out. That’s what unsettles him most. Because, if there’s one thing Xavier is certain of, it’s that he’s spent his whole life building these walls—these perfect facades—around himself. And if Caleb ever gets close enough, Xavier knows they might just crumble.

…

Xavier doesn’t recall when he decided to go to bed, but the unmistakable morning sun wakes him up. He glances over to Rafayel’s side of the room to see him sleeping soundly. He lies still for a moment, blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window. The faint hum of the campus outside seems oddly distant, as though the world is still holding its breath. The quiet of the room contrasts with the storm of thoughts that has been swirling in his mind for what feels like forever. He tries to push away the remnants of his unsettling encounter with Caleb the night before, but it clings to him like a shadow, refusing to be shaken off.

He glances over at Rafayel’s side of the room. His roommate sleeps peacefully, completely oblivious to the mental chaos Xavier had been wrestling with for hours. Rafayel’s easy going presence—always so calm, so unbothered by the weight of the world—only makes Xavier feel more isolated. Sometimes he wonders if he’ll ever be able to find that peace, that ability to just exist without constantly worrying about maintaining the right image or being perfect in every way.

As the sun rises higher, casting a warm glow over the room, Xavier knows it’s time to start the day. But the thought of facing Caleb again, of navigating whatever strange tension lingers between them, fills him with a mixture of dread and curiosity. Why can’t I just be left alone? he thinks, rolling out of bed and walking over to the window.

He stares outside for a long moment, watching the world wake up around him. Students trickle out of the dorms, heading toward classes or meeting up with friends. The campus feels so alive, so full of possibility, and yet Xavier feels like an outsider, stuck between the expectations of who he’s supposed to be and the person he’s afraid to become.

The echo of Caleb’s gaze from last night creeps into his thoughts again, and Xavier feels that familiar unease settle in his stomach. Caleb’s ability to look at him like he knows exactly what’s going on inside his head, to see through the walls Xavier has built so meticulously, is maddening. And it only makes him more determined to push Caleb away, to keep everything at arm’s length. But, deep down, Xavier knows it’s not that simple.

With a heavy sigh, Xavier pulls himself away from the window, glancing back at Rafayel, still lost in his dreamworld. Xavier can’t help but envy that. He longs for the simplicity of being able to sleep through all the complexities of his life, to not have to carry the weight of his family’s expectations, or the pressure of his own carefully constructed persona.

But that’s not his reality, is it? His reality is one of constant vigilance, of managing every part of himself, of being the perfect son, the perfect heir. And Caleb—damn him—reminds Xavier of all the cracks he’s been so careful to hide.

Xavier glances at the time—he’s cutting it close. He feels a flicker of irritation at the thought of having to rush, but it’s not like he has a choice. No time to dwell on it now , he reminds himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. The thought of facing Caleb again, especially in a classroom setting, makes his stomach churn, but he’s learned to mask his discomfort with the same practiced ease he applies to everything else.

The quiet of the room is almost suffocating as he moves through it, gathering his things in a controlled frenzy. His fingers brush the corners of his textbooks, the papers neatly stacked beside them. Everything has its place, each detail accounted for. It’s how he’s always managed to keep the chaos of his life at bay. But today, it feels like the cracks in his perfectly curated life are growing wider.

He looks at Rafayel again, wondering if his roommate has ever experienced anything like this—the constant feeling of being scrutinized, the pressure of expectations, the never-ending parade of perfection he’s supposed to maintain. Xavier catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above his desk as he adjusts his jacket, his reflection cold and impassive. 

With a final glance around the room, Xavier heads out, stepping into the hall and feeling the familiar hum of the campus in the air. The distant chatter of students, the rustling of leaves outside, the rhythmic thrum of footsteps echoing down the corridor. It’s all background noise, and yet it feels like the world is pressing in on him, each sound amplifying the restlessness inside.

Chapter Text

Xavier’s schedule is filled with advanced, accelerated courses from passing the entrance exams with flying colors. He recalls how much he had to bed his parents for the permission to actually attend Linkon Academy and not go through the international school that his father went to. It wasn’t until Tara, kindly asked them to let Xavier accompany her so she ‘wouldn’t be alone’ is when they finally allowed him to go. 

He glances down at his phone, double checking his schedule. Today we have Molecular and Cellular Biology of Human Diseases and…introduction to finance.

The campus feels different in the morning light, full of students bustling about with the kind of energy Xavier wishes he could tap into. Some of them laugh, others chatter in groups, and there are even a few couples walking hand-in-hand. They all seem to have a place, a purpose, or at least an air of confidence he can’t seem to grasp. 

Being so lost in his thoughts Xavier hardly remembers how he actually ended up at his first class. He snaps back to reality as he walks through the door of the lecture hall, momentarily disoriented by the sudden shift in environment. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the hum of conversations from his classmates fills the space, but he’s still not fully present.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice asks, he slightly turns to look at the person.

His features, sharp yet soft, carried a quiet intensity, like the calm before a storm, “Not at all,” Xavier politely replies, slightly moving his stuff out of the way, “Xavier by the way,” he gives a business smile and holds out his hand. 

“Zayne,” the other replied, giving Xavier’s hand a firm shake, “If I’m not mistaken you’re the one rooming with Rafayel right?” 

Zayne slides into the seat next to Xavier with a smooth, almost effortless grace, setting his bag down with a quiet thud. The faint smell of cologne lingers in the air for a second, a sharp contrast to the sterile, slightly musty smell of the lecture hall. Xavier glances at him, trying to read him, but Zayne’s calm demeanor gives away nothing.

For a moment, Xavier feels a twinge of discomfort, that familiar prickling sensation at the back of his neck when someone notices too much about him. Rafayel? Xavier thinks, surprised that Zayne knew about his roommate.

“Yes, I do,” Xavier replies, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “How did you—?”

“I tend to spend my spare time with him,” Zayne says, pulling out his notebook and a pen, effortlessly slipping into the rhythm of the class that’s already begun.

Xavier nods, unsure how to respond.

He forces himself to focus on the lecture, the professor discussing the intricate details of cellular biology, but his mind keeps drifting back to Caleb. There's something about the way he doesn’t seem to care about blending in, about following the crowd. It makes Xavier feel like he’s somehow out of sync with everything around him. He’s always been the type to play by the rules, to keep things neat and controlled. But Caleb? Caleb exudes a kind of ease that Xavier can’t seem to find, even in the simplest of interactions.

Xavier glances sideways trying to take his mind off of the one thing he’d rather not think about, he takes in Zayne’s posture—leaning forward slightly, focused but not tense. 

Zayne seems to notice his gaze, but he doesn’t acknowledge it directly. Instead, he casually flips through his notebook, the faint rustling of the pages filling the quiet moments in between the professor’s explanations.

"You know," Zayne says suddenly, breaking the silence with a low, even tone, "It’s rude to stare.” 

Xavier freezes, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected remark. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring, or that Zayne had noticed. His face flushes slightly, and he quickly turns his attention back to the front of the class, pretending to focus on the professor’s words. But his thoughts are still scrambled, his mind clinging to Zayne’s comment like a thorn.

As the lecture continues, Xavier’s thoughts are a whirlwind of discomfort and self-consciousness. His mind refuses to stay anchored in the professor’s words, as his attention keeps drifting back to Zayne. The comment about staring lingers like an echo in his ears, and Xavier can’t help but feel the weight of it. He hadn’t meant to stare, not consciously, at least—but now, in the wake of Zayne’s remark, he wonders if his discomfort is more apparent than he realizes.

Zayne’s presence next to him remains unbothered. The way he listens to the professor—leaning forward slightly, scribbling notes in an organized but effortless manner, speaks volumes. It’s as if he’s so used to just being , without needing to overthink or second-guess himself. Xavier, on the other hand, feels like he’s constantly in a battle with his own thoughts, unsure of which part of him he should show to the world.

The class ends, and as the students gather their things and file out, Xavier quickly packs his bag, hoping to avoid any further interaction. But just as he’s about to slip out of the lecture hall, he hears Zayne’s voice again, this time softer, almost like a question directed at no one in particular.

“Did you have another class after this?” 

Xavier freezes for a moment, his hand hovering over his bag. The question is simple, yet it carries an undercurrent of curiosity that Xavier wasn’t quite ready for. He hadn’t expected Zayne to engage him further, especially not after the uncomfortable tension that had hung between them since the earlier comment.

“Yeah,” Xavier replies, his voice more curt than he intends. “Introduction to finance.”

Zayne nods, the movement so smooth it almost seems choreographed. He adjusts his bag and stands up, stretching as he does, his gaze never leaving Xavier. “Sounds like fun,” he says with a teasing grin, as if Xavier had just mentioned something lighthearted instead of another demanding class.

Xavier’s lips twitch in what could be construed as a smile, but it quickly fades. He doesn’t know how to respond to Zayne’s effortless ease. Everything about him—his composed demeanor, his calm, almost deliberate manner…seems to highlight Xavier’s own internal disarray.

"Are you just going to disappear after every class?" Zayne asks, his tone light but not entirely dismissive.

Xavier isn’t sure how to interpret the question, whether it’s an invitation to keep talking or just a passing observation. Either way, it catches him off guard. “I… I don’t know. I’m not used to sticking around,” he admits before he can stop himself. It’s not a confession he makes often, especially not to someone he barely knows. But the truth lingers between them now, and he can’t retract it.

Zayne gives him a sharp look, one that feels like he’s seeing something Xavier hasn’t fully acknowledged. “Well, you don’t have to leave in such a hurry,” Zayne says, his voice softening slightly. “You might find sticking around doesn’t feel so bad.”

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. He looks around the room at the remaining students, all heading to their own separate corners of the campus. Some are chatting with friends, others are walking alone, absorbed in their own thoughts. But none of them seem to carry the weight of their thoughts the way Xavier does. His chest tightens at the thought, and he forces himself to exhale slowly.

“I’ll see you around,” Xavier says finally, his words slipping out like a polite dismissal.

Zayne doesn’t press further. Instead, he offers a casual, almost imperceptible shrug. “Sure. Take care of yourself, Xavier.”

The words, simple and fleeting, seem to carry an unspoken weight as Zayne walks away. Xavier stands there for a moment longer than necessary, watching him disappear into the stream of students. There’s something about Zayne’s nonchalant departure that lingers with him, like a note left hanging in the air.

Xavier shakes his head, trying to push the unease aside, but the feeling sticks. For the rest of the day, the comments and gestures from Zayne seem to echo in his mind, and the usual control he prided himself on slips just a little more with each passing hour. He tries to focus on his next class, but his thoughts feel fragmented, pieces of Zayne’s calm presence scattered through his mind like pieces of a puzzle he can’t quite put together.

And then, as if to add to the growing list of disruptions in his life, he hears a voice, one that he’s grown far too familiar with, cutting through the hum of the campus.

“Well if it isn’t Philos’s Prince himself.”

Xavier doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Caleb. The voice is unmistakable—laced with a teasing confidence that, for reasons Xavier still can’t fully understand, unsettles him every single time.

Xavier rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop walking, pretending he doesn’t hear Caleb’s mocking tone.

“You're just going to ignore me, then?” Caleb’s voice slides up beside him, and before Xavier can respond, Caleb appears at his side, a grin plastered across his face. “Or is this your new thing? Keeping to yourself? Because that seems so unlike you.”

Xavier keeps his face neutral, his expression carefully constructed. He doesn’t want to show Caleb how much his presence has begun to affect him. “Can we not do this,” he quickens his pace. 

Caleb’s longer legs keep up with him easily, “Oh you wound me- can’t we just talk? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot in that,” he grabs Xavier's wrist, “elevator.” 

Xavier's heart skips a beat when Caleb grabs his wrist. The touch is light, but it's enough to send a jolt of tension straight through him. He pulls his arm away instinctively, though his movements are more jerky than smooth. 

"Seriously?" Xavier mutters, not quite looking Caleb in the eye. 

But Caleb doesn’t let up. He matches Xavier’s pace easily, his strides purposeful. “You know, I think you’d be less…tense, if you actually talked to me.” His tone is playful, almost teasing, like he’s enjoying the discomfort he’s stirring in Xavier.

Xavier huffs, his eyes flicking towards Caleb briefly before he returns his focus to the path ahead. "You just don’t get a hint do you," Xavier says, his voice low, just above a whisper, but with a clear edge of frustration. 

Caleb’s grin doesn’t fade at Xavier’s words. In fact, it only seems to widen, like a challenge being thrown his way. “I’m getting the hint,” Caleb says, his voice still light, “but I’m not sure you are.” He steps in front of Xavier, slowing his pace just enough to force him to stop or, at the very least, acknowledge him.

Xavier feels a sudden surge of irritation. He’s already had enough of Caleb’s antics today, and the last thing he wants is for this conversation to drag on any longer. He stands there for a moment, staring at the ground, trying to gather his thoughts before he speaks. His chest tightens as he realizes that Caleb’s constant presence is pushing all the wrong buttons, making it harder to hold onto his composure.

"I’d rather prefer if we were to talk later, Caleb," Xavier says, lifting his head to look Caleb square in the eye. There's a momentary flash of something in Caleb's gaze, something unreadable, but it quickly passes, replaced by that same smirk.

Caleb takes a step closer, closing the gap between them, but there's no real menace in his movement, just a curious, playful energy. "Is that so?" he says, his voice almost teasing, like he’s savoring every bit of Xavier’s discomfort. "You’re being dishonest with yourself again.” 

Xavier takes a small step back, unwilling to let Caleb invade his space any further. “You don’t need to act like you have me all figured out,” he says, though it’s a little too defensive, a little too quick to escape his lips. He crosses his arms, trying to shield himself from Caleb's gaze, but it only makes him feel more exposed. “I’m not some puzzle you can solve.”

“Oh, but you are,” Caleb says, his voice lowering just a fraction, the teasing edge giving way to something more serious—more knowing. “You’re just trying–” 

“Pretty boy!” a familiar voice calls from up ahead, cutting Caleb off.

Chapter Text

Xavier's shoulders tense at the familiar nickname, though he's not entirely sure if it's relief or dread that washes over him. Sylus approaches with his characteristic lazy stride, hands tucked casually in his pockets, but his crimson eyes are sharp, taking in the scene with the precision of someone who misses nothing.

"Well, well," Sylus drawls, his voice carrying that smooth, almost musical quality that somehow manages to sound both friendly and dangerous. "Looks like I'm interrupting something." His gaze flicks between Xavier and Caleb, lingering on the minimal space between them, the tension that practically crackles in the air.

Caleb's expression shifts almost imperceptibly—the easy grin still in place, but there's something harder underneath now, like steel wrapped in silk. He doesn't step away from Xavier, doesn't give Sylus the acknowledgment he might expect. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying this newcomer with barely concealed irritation.

"Not interrupting anything important," Caleb says, his tone light but with an edge that wasn't there moments before. "Xavier and I were just having a little chat."

Sylus's lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He takes another step closer, and Xavier finds himself caught between them,Caleb's persistent presence on one side, Sylus's calculating charm on the other.

"A chat?" Sylus repeats, his voice deceptively casual. "From where I was standing, it looked more like Xavier was trying to escape." His crimson gaze settles on Xavier with something that might be concern, though it's hard to tell with Sylus. "You looked a bit... trapped, pretty boy."

Xavier's jaw tightens at the nickname, but before he can respond, Caleb lets out a soft laugh.

Caleb’s laugh is low, amused, but it carries a pointed sharpness,like the edge of a knife cloaked in velvet. “That’s the thing with Xavier,” he says, his gaze never leaving Sylus. “He always looks trapped, even when he’s exactly where he wants to be.”

Xavier’s breath catches in his throat. The words hit too close, too neatly threaded between sarcasm and truth. He hates how much they linger in the air, how they leave him feeling seen in the exact way he tries so hard to avoid. He opens his mouth to snap back, but Sylus beats him to it.

“Well, good thing I’ve got a knack for freeing things that don’t want to be caught,” Sylus replies coolly, stepping just slightly in front of Xavier now, his presence deliberate, protective even. The corner of his mouth lifts in a lazy smirk as his eyes meet Caleb’s. “Especially when they don’t realize they’re stuck.”

The tension between them sharpens, shifts. The air is thick with an unspoken challenge, the kind that doesn’t need to be named to be understood. Caleb tilts his head, clearly sizing Sylus up, his smile thinning just enough to show the strain beneath.

“Funny,” Caleb says, “I don’t remember anyone asking for a knight in shining armor.”

“Who said anything about armor?” Sylus says, unfazed. “I don’t play the hero. I just don’t like watching someone squirm under a spotlight they didn’t ask for.”

Xavier stands frozen between them, unsure whether he’s grateful or humiliated. His eyes dart between Sylus and Caleb, heart pounding in a rhythm that feels too fast, too loud. It’s like watching two storms circle each other, and he’s caught in the eye.

Further back on the sidewalk, Tara takes one look at the standoff, blinking at the electric tension like she’s walked into a soap opera mid-episode. “All this eye-candy in the middle of the sidewalk? Is it my lucky day?” Tara’s voice cuts through the tension as she skips over, her bright eyes beaming. She easily grabs Xavier and pulls him to her side, curiously she peers up to him before whispering, “what is going on?” 

“I have no idea,” Xavier whispers back, his voice low.

Both Sylus and Caleb stare at Tara, Sylus’s eyes a bit more welcoming than Calebs. Tara tugs on Xavier’s arm dramatically, “You never told me you knew Caleb! All these connections and you never let me in on the fun!” 

“You’re Tara, right?” Caleb says, stepping forward with that practiced smile.

Both Tara and Xavier exchange glances towards each other, “Yes I am,” she starts, her eyebrow raising slightly, “how did you?” 

 “EVER likes to keep tabs on our... precious clientele. ” He lets the words linger. “Your parents are regulars.”

Tara studies Caleb’s outstretched hand for a beat too long before taking it, her smile bright but her grip firmer than expected. "Good to know I'm precious ," she replies, voice sugar-sweet with a hint of steel, "I’ll be sure to let my parents know they’ve been properly appreciated."

Caleb’s smile doesn’t falter, but it doesn’t grow either. “Please do.”

Next to her, Xavier’s pulse drums louder than the campus around them. His shoulders tense again, this time under the weight of being known, of being watched. Caleb knew Tara. Knew who her parents were. Which meant, almost certainly, he knew far more about Xavier than he’d ever said.

He suddenly feels transparent– like glass held up to the light.

"You alright there, pretty boy?" Sylus murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for Xavier to hear. His tone is quieter now, lacking its earlier mockery. It almost sounds like concern.

Xavier shoots him a glance, his mouth twitching toward a reply, but nothing comes. Instead, Tara interjects again, deliberately lightening the atmosphere, “Sorry to interrupt,” she motions to the three of them, “whatever that was…but, I gotta take my Xavi to get some snacks before our next class!” 

Tara’s cheerful declaration slices clean through the heavy atmosphere like a ribbon of sunlight through storm clouds. She tugs at Xavier’s arm again, a purposeful, almost exaggerated gesture that sends a clear message.

Xavier doesn’t resist. If anything, he welcomes the momentum, lets her pull him a few steps away from the standoff without protest. His heart still thrums like a warning drum in his chest.

Caleb watches them go, not moving, but his presence lingers like smoke in Xavier’s lungs. “Snacks,” he repeats dryly, more to himself than anyone else. “Charming.”

Sylus, for once, doesn’t have a quip ready. He watches too, head slightly tilted, eyes shadowed in thought. His usual smirk has thinned into something less performative. Less amused.

“Don’t follow,” Tara says over her shoulder, sing-song and unbothered. “Or do. But if you bring that energy into the café, I’m making you both buy me cookies.”

Xavier huffs a breath that might almost be a laugh. Almost.

They walk in silence for half a block before Tara glances up at him, her eyes no longer wide and teasing, but sharp with quiet assessment. “So,” she says, voice softer now, “are you okay?”

Xavier considers lying. It’d be easier. Quieter. But Tara isn’t just nosy– she’s observant in ways that are hard to dodge.

“I honestly don't know.” 

Tara doesn’t say anything right away. Just nods, her mouth tightening like she wants to say a dozen things and isn’t sure where to start. After a beat, she sighs and gives him another nudge with her shoulder.

“You know,” she says lightly, “you don’t have to stand between two people trying to claim you like you’re some kind of celestial prize.”

Xavier glances sideways. “What?”

“I’m not blind, Xavier.” Her tone’s dry. “That wasn’t a casual disagreement. That was a territorial standoff with bonus eye contact and weird metaphors. Who even says stuff like ‘freeing things that don’t want to be caught’?”

Xavier groans softly. “Please don’t repeat it.”

“Too late. It’s seared into my memory forever. I’m gonna have to write poetry about it or something.”

He shoots her a sideways look, but she catches the shadow of a grin just barely tugging at the edge of his mouth.