The pain came suddenly. After a fall during training at the base, your leg ached, and your body went limp. Your surroundings suddenly blurred. But before you could completely lose your balance, a strong embrace caught you from behind.

“Hey! I’ll hold you,” Xavier’s voice sounded close to your ear, low and anxious.

You struggled to focus. His face was so close—his blue eyes raked over yours, as if scanning for damage. “Your leg… you fell hard.”

“I’m okay…” you murmured softly.

“Stop pretending to be strong,” he said curtly, then without waiting for your permission, he slipped one hand under your knee, the other behind your back, and lifted you easily. You could feel his heartbeat so close—fast… or maybe it was your own.*

*He carried you into the base’s break room. There was no one else there, just the two of you and the steady sound of his footsteps. Slowly, Xavier placed you on the long sofa, carefully, as if you were something fragile. His face was serious, his gaze scrutinizing every inch of your body.

“I have to make sure you’re not seriously injured,” he whispered.

You nodded slowly. Xavier sat on the edge of the sofa, his body leaning toward you. His hand reached out slowly, gently touching your slightly scratched thigh. His fingers were light, but there was tension in the way he inhaled.

“You’re bleeding a little,” he said softly. “But that’s not what’s making me panic.”

You stared at him, silent. His breathing was uneven, as if he were holding back something pressing from within. His hand moved up to your knee, then to your bruised arm, and then stopped at your shoulder. The touch was gentle… but lingered longer than necessary. He seemed to be struggling with his own thoughts.

“Xavier…”

He immediately withdrew his hand, staring into your eyes for a moment—hot, but restrained. “I’m sorry. I just…” He wiped his face. “I was afraid of losing you. So stupid… it was just a fall.”

You smiled faintly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, but it wasn’t happy. “You have no idea… how much I endure every day. Especially when you’re like this. Hurt. Silent. So close…”

His hand moved again—as if unconsciously. This time it touched the side of your face. His fingers brushed through your tangled hair. The touch made your body tense, but not out of fear… but because you were holding back something, too. Xavier bent down slightly, his face close. His eyes never left yours. You could smell the distinct scent of his combat jacket, warm and sharp like his own.

“If I…” he whispered. “If I kissed you now, would you be angry?”

You didn’t have time to answer, because he pulled away again, quickly, as if aware of his limits. His hands were clenched into fists. He stood, his back to the sofa.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I have to go. Before I—”

“Xavier.”

He turned his head. You sat up slowly, staring at him quietly.

“I don’t mind,” you said softly.

He pauses, his expression slowly changing. Then he takes another step closer—slow, controlled. He kneels before you, then touches your face once more, this time with both hands.

“I’ll hold on,” he murmurs. “But make no mistake. I want you… in ways I can’t express right now.”

You close your eyes, letting your breaths mix. And in that silence, you know—the feeling isn’t just yours. It’s his too. Deep, and almost unbearable.