I squinted at the pink shimmering number above his head.
15%.
What did I do to earn Xander's favor? The system hasn't given me any tasks lately either. Strange.
"What are you doing here?"
Same question. Same face. But a different man, a different soul.
Xander approached slowly, calm on the surface, though his eyes were anything but. They swept down my figure, not with brotherly concern, but with scrutiny. Appreciation. Possession.
"Just wandering." He paused to lean down, brushing the back of his hand against my forehead. "You don't look well. Are you running a fever?"
His face — so identical to Xavier's — loomed far too close. My body reacted before I could stop it, leaning away instinctively, as images of what had just happened beneath this gown flooded my mind.
"No. Just a little tired." I replied coolly.
His hand lingered awkwardly midair before retreating. He straightened with a strained smile, and I felt the weight of his gaze settle heavily on my shoulders.
