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I like her, Xavier thought to himself.
She's a biologist. She doesn't advocate for human experimentation. Her hair sways as she walks and she's always huddling books to her chest, as if she's afraid to let them out of her sight. Her lab coat was too long for her, but that didn't bother her. She was ... amazing. Xavier met her spontaneously and they talked once before he asked her to see him again.
She smiled, full of hopelessness and Xavier was struck by the wrongness in her. He reached out to her and realized that his feelings were leaking into her, that his emotions were influencing her.
He ran. Vomited in some corner.
Did this happen to everyone he met? Xavier staggered with this new emotion, will he do this to everyone he will meet? His parents? His brother?
Xavier shook his head fervently. No, he knew the difference. He had to. And Xavier knew what he had to do.
He had to leave. Xavier smiled bitterly to himself.
At least he was eighteen.
(at least I didn't know her name)
Xavier was an adult.
He knew this because he didn't slam the door on Cain's face whenever he visited. He didn't refuse every request. He looked at them neutrally, as if he didn't feel glimpses of their heart. He could do this. He could survive. He was an adult.
He didn't need anyone.
At least, he told himself that whenever Noric decide to rearrange his selves, when he complained about his books. It was funny, this caricature of life he's gotten in the end, that felt more real than anything else he's felt.
Xavier listens to the steady beat of Noric in the dark. There was nothing else to tell himself apart anymore. Nothing to tell what's making Noric stay, except for the sound of realness.
He woke up to noise and trusted himself.
Xavier was home.
