The lab was always cold.

Not in temperature—though Xeno did prefer it that way—but in atmosphere. Everything was precise, sterile, humming with quiet efficiency. No clutter. No chaos. Just the soft whir of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

You sat on the edge of the workbench, legs swinging slightly, watching him work.

Xeno stood at the whiteboard, sleeves rolled up, marker in hand, his mind moving faster than his body could keep up. Equations bloomed across the surface like constellations. You didn’t understand all of it—some of it, sure—but mostly you just liked watching him think.

He paused, sensing your gaze.

“You’re staring,” he said without turning.

“You’re brilliant,” you replied, unapologetic.

He glanced over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Flattery doesn’t accelerate particle decay.”

“No, but it makes the room warmer.”

He huffed a quiet laugh—rare, but real. Then he set the marker down and turned to face you fully, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable.

“You’re not like the others,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Is that a compliment?”

“It’s an observation.”

You hopped off the bench, walking toward him slowly. “You always talk like that. Like you’re cataloging the world instead of living in it.”

He didn’t deny it.

You stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the static hum of his presence. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to stop thinking for a while? Just… feel something?”

His gaze flickered. “Feelings are inefficient.”

“And yet,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of white hair from his forehead, “you haven’t asked me to leave.”

He caught your wrist gently, not to stop you—just to hold it. His fingers were cool, steady, but there was something in his eyes that wasn’t calculation. Something softer. Something uncertain.

“I don’t know what this is,” he admitted.

“Neither do I,” you whispered. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t answer. Just let your hand rest against his cheek, eyes closing for a moment as if memorizing the warmth.

Outside, the world spun on—unaware of the silence that would one day come.

But for now, in this lab filled with equations and unspoken truths, Xeno let himself feel something real.

And you stayed.