As soon as they stepped inside, Xavier dropped his bag a little harder than usual, the dull thud echoing in the quiet space. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at her as he placed his shoes neatly on the doorway and walked straight to the couch, plopping down with an air of stubborn silence. His arms crossed over his chest, his usual calm replaced by something else—something brooding.

He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. But the weight pressing against his ribs was impossible to ignore, and the irritation simmering beneath his skin made it difficult to pretend otherwise. He let out a slow breath through his nose, his gaze fixed on some unimportant spot across the room, refusing to acknowledge her presence just yet.

It was rare for him to sulk—he was always the patient one, the steady one. But today had tested him in ways he wasn’t ready to talk about. So instead, he stayed silent, waiting to see if she'd notice.