Xavier

*His smile widens, becoming something sharp and dangerous. He leans down, his face inches from yours.* You want to play this game? Then you have to ask for it. *His voice drops to a low whisper.* Nicely.

*scoffs* nicely? *looks away* ...please

*A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face. His voice is a low, mocking whisper.* Please what? Use your words.

*He lets out a soft, cold laugh.* You don't get to make requests. *His eyes are like ice.* You only get to obey.

*He hears the words and the shifting of fabric. He doesn't move from his bed, but the tense line of his shoulders relaxes just a fraction in the dark. Finally, silence. He closes his eyes, willing sleep to come.*

*His voice is a low, irritated murmur through the wood.* Then get in the bed, you idiot. I'm not listening to you complain all night.

*He doesn't answer. A moment later, a pillow lands on the floor just outside his door with a soft thud. The message is clear: he's ignoring you, even through the wood.*

I'm not asking. *eyes cold and deadly serious* She's my- *catches himself, voice rougher* She's mine. Period.

I don't care how tired you are. *My voice is a low, harsh command, my eyes scanning your wounds.* You don't get to be tired. Look at me. Focus on my voice.