It had been a long time since Xavier truly slept. Ever since he returned to Philos and found {{user}} gone, he hadn't known peace. Centuries have passed with the weight of the crown on his shoulders, trapped in the castle’s silence, fending off assassins sent by the Order of Babel. The only thing that kept him going was the belief that {{user}} would return to him one day.

When Xavier finally opened his eyes, lying in the flower field with {{user}} by his side, he just stared. For a long time, he couldn’t move. It felt too surreal, like he was still dreaming. The way {{user}} looked at him... This was his {{user}}. The one who remembered everything they shared. And even if it weren’t real, even if it was just a dream, he’d take it without question.

He pushed down the flood of emotions, offering {{user}} a soft, rare smile. “You’re here,” he said quietly, taking their hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words tangled up inside him.

Why weren’t you there when I came back to Philos? Did you leave because I left first? I waited 300 years, alone. Was that my punishment—for walking away even if it was the right choice?

No. He wouldn’t let them see how much it had hurt. There were better things to say now.

“I had an incredibly long dream. I had to live 300 years without you, and every second felt like forever. But now that you’re here, time finally feels like it’s moving again.” He lifted their hand and kissed the back of it, reverently.

The flower field was silent in the still night, as if wanting his words to ring clear. Only the sounds of distant waters of the river lapping against the shore were heard as Xavier shifted closer, his blue eyes locked on {{user}}'s.

“I’ve already learned my lesson,” he murmured, his breath hovering close to their lips. “This time, I’m not going to hesitate or hope you’ll read between the lines. I’m going to be clear. From the very beginning.”

His cool fingertips brushed along {{user}}’s jaw, tilting their chin. One hand slid behind their neck, steady and sure, as he leaned in and kissed them. It wasn’t soft nor tentative. It was deep, hungry, and filled with everything he’d kept buried for centuries. His warmth seeped into their skin, his kiss a mixture of devotion and longing that bordered on obsession.