Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nights were frequently too much.

You weren’t sure what it was exactly; even when it was a good day, a productive day, a successful day that came to end, the dark settled over your thoughts like a dense fog and didn’t let up until morning.

Tonight, the fog had started early. One could guess whether this was because of your oversleep the night before, the migraine that came along with it, your skipping of breakfast, or your inability to concentrate at work leading to a mission that really should have been easy getting passed on to someone else because Jenna had seen you for less than five minutes and knew you were unfit to be anywhere near the no-hunt zone. 

You turned over in bed, towards your blinds drawn shut. Silvery coloured light hills formed on the ceiling and on the floor, stretching and bending in tandem with one another whenever the curtain caught the breeze outside and fluttered with it. And you looked at your phone, face down and lightless on your nightstand. 

You weren’t going to call. No, what kind of person would that make you? It was a quarter past two in the morning, and Xavier was probably asleep. Though, to be fair, it was a known fact to you by now that his sleep schedule was just as abysmal as yours, but better not to take the risk. Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean no one should. 

It had been a while since you’d been able to spend actual time together. That time had been restricted as of recently to eating lunch on the rooftop of the UNICORNS building together and playing with him and the stray cat outside for a few minutes each evening before taking the elevator up to lay paralyzed until morning. You were worried he would think you were pulling away again.

You huffed, turning away from your nightstand and your phone. One second, two, and you turned back. 

There were no justifications at the forefront of your mind when you picked up the phone and let the ring tone trill. You wouldn’t have had time to frankenstein any into existence, even if you wanted to, because he picked up after the second ring.

“...Xavier? Did I wake you?”

On the other end of the line, he chuckled groggily, and there was your answer. “If I say yes, will you be upset?”

There was no room to feel upset when just the sound of his voice turned pillows into clouds and your dark bedroom into a star-dotted sky, stretching on to infinity. You smiled.

“Mhm. I’d be extremely upset.”

“Then, no. You didn’t wake me. I’ve been up for hours.”

You laughed, the sound almost startling in the quiet of your room. “Good to know.”

There was shuffling, rustling, and then, “What’s wrong? Is something keeping you up?”

The question sobered you. Where to begin? You weren’t sure you even knew, exactly. If the depth of it was something you could explain over a phone call.

“Nothing. I just…I just wanted to hear your voice. Is that okay?”

The rustling stopped, and the line fell quiet. When he spoke again, his words were steeped in tenderness. “Of course it’s okay.”

“Then,” you began, turning over once more, but not out of restlessness this time. “Would it also be okay if I asked you to…tell me a knock-knock joke?”

“Hmm…” he hummed in contemplation that you knew was fake, given that you could hear his smile. “I wasn’t aware that late nights made you so greedy. But, sure.” A breath, then, “Knock, knock.”

You almost jumped when you heard an actual knock on your front door. But you were reminded, then, that this was Xavier you were talking to, meaning that you’d be foolish to expect a normal knock knock joke to remain a normal knock knock joke. You beamed as you tossed the covers off and hurried out of bed, phone still pressed to your ear.

“Who’s there?”

“I love you.”

Your feet slowed to an almost involuntary stop. 

It didn’t matter when you heard it, where you heard it, or how many times you had heard it by now. Those words, from him, blanketed in the sweet and serene current that was his voice, made you forget what colour the sky was. For all you were concerned, the milky way started and ended with him. You had to take a second to allow your heart to recover to a normal rhythm again.

“I…I love you, who?”

You opened your front door, and standing just beyond it was Xavier, already smiling, his phone still pressed to his ear. “Sorry. There is no punchline.”

You didn’t realize it until just then, but the fog was starting to clear. Not forever, probably not even for the rest of the night, but for now. And for now was enough.

Your face scrunched up in a pathetic attempt not to cry as you let the receiver fall to your side and you barrelled into him, a cheek pressed against a chest, fingers clutching cotton.

“I…I missed you.”

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, speaking softly against your skin, “I didn’t disappear. I’m here. Always, right here.”

“I know. But, I still missed you.”

You felt his laughter reverberate, a low rumble in his chest, and you were certain that nothing else, not a single painkiller could remedy your aching head as effectively as that sensation alone.

He gathered your face in his hands, thumbing away what few tears had begun to fall. “No more missing me. Not when I’m right here.”

On any other occasion, you would’ve protested when he lifted you up into his arms, complaining that you weren’t some sort of princess, that you could walk. This time, though, you just buried your face in his shoulder, shut your eyes, and let him. 

“I was thinking,” you finally began, once he was by your side and your bed wasn’t anymore a very large expanse of lifeless galaxy, but a bed. “About the day. It was a stupid day. I made us dip from first to second place on the wanderer kill count leaderboard because I didn’t feel well enough to enter the no-hunt zone.”

He smiled, bringing you closer to rest his chin atop your head. “We’ll take back our rightful place another day. They can’t escape us for long.”

A warm, steady hand rubbed gently up and down your back. “But, you know, you can’t fight wanderers if you’re so sleepy that you might fall asleep mid-battle.”

You scoffed. “I know. I’m trying. I just can’t seem…I can’t seem to…” 

The words trailed off as you helplessly grasped around in the dark for them, coming up empty. Your brows furrowed and the hand still clutching at his sweater curled up into a frustrated fist, fingernails against your palm almost to the point of pain. 

But you were drawn back by his touch. He took your hand, wrapping your trembling fist in his, brushing his thumb along the ridges of your knuckles. He didn’t pry your fingers open, or even try to intertwine yours with his. Never intrusive, never demanding. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to talk about it if it’s hard. You can tell me some other time. For now, just try to close your eyes.”

You shook your head. “I don't want to stop looking at you.”

You found yourself often in the habit of wishing every moment you spent with Xavier would be one to last forever. If only the already chaotic space-time continuum would grace just the two of you alone and allow for the rest of the world to stop moving in time. Because, tomorrow, you’d have to wake up again, have to reconcile this safe haven with the reality that nowhere else in the world was safe. That nothing made more sense to you than the fact of Xavier being yours, and you being his.

And, maybe without you needing to say anything else but that one desperate declaration, he understood. Somehow, he always understood.

You didn’t even notice that your fist had unclenched until he brought your fingers to his cheek, turning to press a kiss to your open palm. A kiss to your wrist. “Then, you don’t have to.”

His fingers slid down your forearm, leaving in their wake a path of goosebumps and heat. They cupped your elbow, gently tugging your arm forward so that it was wrapped around his shoulder. And his arm, in turn, curled around your waist, his fingers sneaking below the hem of your t-shirt to touch palm to skin, a sensation that had your chest rising with a deep inhalation of breath, your eyes shutting of their own accord.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice a lilting murmur. “Whatever comes tomorrow, we’ll face it together.”

“Together?” you parroted, drifting somewhere between consciousness and total bliss. He chuckled.

“Yes, my love.” A kiss to your shoulder, then the column of your neck, then the underside of your jaw. “Together."