I rested my hand on the handle. Took one slow breath. Then pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Xavier stood near the window, framed by the golden afternoon light pouring through the glass. He looked... worn. The usual sharp confidence in his posture was gone, replaced by a quiet tension that made his shoulders look too rigid. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and when the door clicked shut, he didn't flinch. He just turned to face me.
For a second, the old memories flickered—late-night strategy talks after training, him clapping me on the back after I pulled off some reckless Dualflow maneuver, laughing about how we'd conquer the academy together. We had been friends. Real ones. Before jealousy twisted everything.
"Sebastian." His voice was low. Steady, but tired. "You actually came."
"I said I would." I dropped my bag by the nearest desk and leaned against it, arms crossed. "Didn't feel right leaving things the way they ended last time."
