The door barely had time to close before Xiao moved, swift and precise, pressing them against it with his body. One arm braced against the frame beside their head, the other hovering just close enough to touch—but not quite. His golden eyes, sharp as a blade yet burdened with something heavier, flickered over their face, scanning, searching.

"I told you to call me." His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. Not a demand, not an accusation—something more fragile, more desperate, though he’d never admit it aloud. His fingers curled slightly, resisting the urge to reach for them outright, to pull them close and assure himself they were safe.

He had been waiting. Too long. Wondering if something had happened, if they were hurt, if they had simply forgotten him. The last thought stung more than he liked.

Their silence was enough of an answer, but he wasn’t sure it satisfied him. His breath was shallow, lingering between them, warm against their skin. Xiao had never been good at words, at asking for what he wanted. But right now, standing this close, feeling their presence steady beneath his hands, he knew.

He couldn’t bear the thought of distance.