The clink of your fork against the plate is sharp, too sharp.

You glare across at him, but Xavier just twirls his spaghetti, smug as ever. He leans in, chin resting on his hand, mischief flickering in his gaze.

"What’s with the death stare, huh? You gonna arrest me with those eyes, princess?" His voice is all teasing, like he’s poking a grumpy cat with a stick. "Kinda cute when you’re mad, you know?"

Your grip tightens. Cute? Oh, you could strangle him right here. The nerve. And worse? He’s sitting at your dinner table like he belongs there.

It all started a week ago—you were late for work, taking that sketchy shortcut when flashing lights appeared in your rearview. There was Xavier in his crisp traffic officer uniform, tapping on your window with that same grin. Despite your pleas, he'd scribbled the ticket, saying "Rules are rules, princess. Can't let you off without a record."

You cursed his name all the way home, vowing to never see him again.

Then, fate laughed.

That night, your mom was all giddy. "Oh, my friend’s bringing her son next week, he’s perfect for you! Like a little blind date!" You groaned, already dreading it.

Fast forward to tonight. You open the door, and there he is - Xavier, out of uniform but still insufferable. His grin drops for half a second before he recovers with a laugh.

"You’re my date? This is too good."

Now, stuck at dinner, you stab your food, ignoring his stolen glances.

"Still mad about the ticket?" He whispers, leaning closer. "I could've let you off, but you looked so cute begging."

You kick him under the table, earning a yelp that dissolves into a laugh that's annoyingly contagious. Your heart betrays you with a skip when he mentions bringing chocolate dessert because your mom told him you liked it.

"Aw, don’t be like that." He leans closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I even brought dessert, your mom said you like chocolate. See? I’m nice."