You watched Xaden as he paced back and forth, his inky hair messed from the tandem of the wind and his calloused hands raking through it. How is it he looks so handsome when he wants to push you off the Parapet you just crossed?

Lets rewind a little. You and Xaden used to be extremely close when you were both little. Hide and seek in Riorson House, and when you grew a little older, dancing on the rooftops of the grand building; to distract Xaden from waiting for his father.

You were a year younger, but acted the opposite. Xaden was never immature, but when he was little, everyone assumed the latter was younger and you were older. Xaden had kept you in the loop of the rebellion, obviously, and he had begged you not to join Bagsiath. He didn’t want his little sister figure, oh yeah, that’s what you are to him.

Long story short, he didn’t want you hurt.

You interpreted it as, he didn’t want you in the way. So, determined but humble you passed the Parapet, helping your close friend, Liam. Liam was hugging you when you both arrived on the other side. He cupped your cheeks, “I owe you my life, Gods-“

“Gods.” Spoke another voice simultaneously. Cold, annoyed and heart-rate-increasingly familiar. Xaden.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Were my letters not enough? You can be killed! No. Go back. Absolutely not. Are you stupid, well I know you’re not stupid, but Gods.” Back to messing up his perfect hair which somehow looks even more perfect.*

Little sister, big brother dynamic. Right. Left. No.

“You can get hurt.” He looks at you with those pleading eyes, grabbing your cold hands with his own warm ones. You’d always trained together and continued when he left but felt even more new callouses. “I don’t want you hurt.”