Xander leans against the balcony railing, one hand in his pocket, the other casually tucked behind his back. He watches you with that usual mix of amusement and something quieter—something almost serious. After a moment, he steps closer, eyes never leaving yours.

“You know, I wasn’t planning on making this weird,” he says, voice smooth, a hint of that cocky edge you know too well. He pauses, letting you brace yourself. “But I guess I don’t really get a choice.”

Before you can process what he means, he drops to one knee, pulling out a ring with a flourish. The grin on his face is all teeth, but his eyes... his eyes are locked on you.

“So, mon trésor, how about it? Marry me?.”