After some time on the balcony, Zara pulled herself together, resolving to keep her father's diagnosis to herself. It wasn't her first time bearing a heavy secret alone, and she didn't want to burden anyone with her pain—least of all Xavier. She took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and pushing down the ache in her chest, willing herself to look unaffected. With a soft smile plastered on her face, Zara slipped back into the room, her usual playful spark lighting up her features.
Xavier glanced up from his laptop as she entered, eyebrows raised slightly. She could feel his gaze linger on her, a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe, or mild suspicion. But he didn't speak, just observed her quietly as she resumed talking in a bright tone, recounting Apollo's antics from earlier.
"Apollo learned so many tricks! He's such a quick learner, don't you think?" she said with an exaggerated smile, her tone just a little too cheerful.
Xavier, his expression unreadable, simply nodded as he closed his laptop. There was a moment of silence between them before he broke it. "You alright?" he asked, his voice as steady and cool as always. The words felt almost casual, barely showing any real concern, but enough that it pricked at her carefully maintained composure.
"Oh, absolutely!" Zara replied, waving off his question with a laugh. "I just needed some fresh air; nothing serious." She let out a chuckle, forcing it to sound genuine as she added, "Too much thinking can be exhausting, right?"
Xavier gave a slight nod, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to push her further. He turned back to his laptop, his usual indifference intact. The exchange left a strange feeling between them—a quiet, unsaid understanding that he wasn't buying her act but wasn't going to pry. For Zara, it was both a relief and a reminder of how distant he preferred to keep himself, even in moments when it seemed like he might care.
When it was time for dinner, Xavier surprised her by heading into the kitchen. He moved around with a sense of familiarity, gathering ingredients and pulling out a pan, his movements measured and focused. Zara took a seat at the counter, watching him cook. It was unusual for Xavier to step into the kitchen, but she wasn't about to question it, grateful for the distraction.
"You don't usually cook," Zara remarked, trying to sound lighthearted as she rested her chin on her hand. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion," he replied simply, not looking up. "Just figured it'd be quicker."
"Not that I'm complaining," she said with a soft laugh. "It's nice seeing you do something... human." She smirked, hoping to draw out some of his usual dry humor.
Xavier gave her a side glance, a faint smirk on his lips. "Don't get used to it."
While he focused on the stove, Zara continued talking, trying to fill the silence with more stories of her day with Apollo. Her voice was softer than usual, her stories a bit less animated. Xavier could tell; he didn't have to look at her to notice the slight shift in her energy, the strain in her laughter. But he let it slide, choosing instead to comment on Apollo's impressive training progress rather than her mood.
"You seem… quieter than usual," he said after a few minutes, his tone as neutral as ever, as if he were simply commenting on the weather.
Zara's smile faltered for a split second before she quickly recovered. "Oh, just tired, I guess," she replied with a casual shrug. "I didn't realize how much energy Apollo would drain out of me."
Xavier turned his attention back to the food, his expression unreadable. He seemed to accept her response but kept an eye on her as he continued cooking, as though he were trying to decipher something hidden in her words. Zara could tell he wasn't fully convinced, but his silence was almost comforting—a subtle reminder of his preference to keep his distance.
Finally, dinner was ready, and Xavier set the plates down on the table. Zara took her first bite, savoring the warmth of the meal. For a brief moment, the comforting taste of the food melted away some of her stress. She glanced at Xavier across the table, and a quiet gratitude filled her chest.
"Thank you for this," she said softly, her tone more sincere than she intended. "I didn't realize how much I needed a home-cooked meal."
Xavier looked up, his gaze steady and slightly softened, though his indifference remained in place. "Don't mention it," he replied with a shrug. "Consider it a one-time event."
They ate in silence for a few minutes, but the quiet felt different, almost like an unspoken understanding had settled between them. Zara continued talking about Apollo's training, though she was far less chatty than usual. She knew Xavier had noticed her shift in mood; she could sense it in the way he occasionally looked up from his plate, his gaze lingering on her a little too long. But he remained silent, choosing to respect her privacy rather than push her to share whatever was bothering her.
When they finished eating, Zara began to clear the dishes, though Xavier gently took them from her hands.
"Go relax," he said, his tone as indifferent as always. "I'll handle this."
Zara gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth in his simple act. She settled back on the couch, her thoughts drifting back to the call with her father and the flood of memories it had triggered. She reminded herself that she was used to this—used to dealing with things on her own, used to keeping her emotions buried beneath a cheerful facade. But tonight, as she sat there in the quiet, she couldn't help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on her.
After a while, Xavier returned, his presence oddly reassuring even in his detached manner. Zara felt an overwhelming urge to tell him, to share just a piece of her burden, but she stopped herself. Xavier was indifferent, almost aloof, and she couldn't bring herself to burden him with her pain. She gave him a weak smile instead, grateful that he didn't push her further.
As the evening drew to a close, Zara felt a renewed sense of resolve. She would face her father's illness alone, just as she always had with her family's problems. But tonight, sitting across from Xavier, she felt a strange sense of comfort in the silence between them, as if his presence—aloof and indifferent as it was—gave her a small sense of strength.
Inwardly, she promised herself that no matter what happened, she would find a way to handle it all.