Deficient
Happy Birthday to our beloved Wingleader/Lieutenant/Professor/Duke!
Summary: Anon Request: You never let your body's deficiencies drag you down, but sometimes, the lows hit their lowest. Luckily or unluckily for you, someone is always watching.
My final contribution for @empyreanevents Xaden Week 2026 Free Day!
TW: FW spoilers and mentions of fighting and violence.
WC: 5.7k
You could feel the bad day brewing before you even opened your eyes. The terse way you left things last night an unsteady pulse in your brain and although you’d rather lay in bed and rot, Basgiath didn’t wait for anyone to be ready.
“You’ve looked better.” Jax’s voice hits you as you open the door to your room.
Your body feels like there are dead weights attached, each movement a sluggish version of your normally smooth gait. You’ve already seen your reflection and it took only two seconds before you knew you didn’t want to look in the mirror again.
“Thanks.” You murmur as your eyes slowly lead up to Jax’s, not missing the sharp knowing look.
“Couldn’t sleep, I suppose?” Bodhi’s voice floats from Jax’s left as all three of you move down the hallway towards the dining hall.
You huff through your nose, but they don’t push after that, your mood only further souring as you look up to the empty chair on the dais. You drop unceremoniously into your normal seat, not caring that you’ve fallen into your seat like a sack of grain.
Staring at the unappetizing food in front of you, your fork only pushes food around your plate, each morsel more like a taunt than actual sustenance.
“You need to eat something you know.” Bodhi’s worried words hit you as he walks up to the table, clearly watching closer than you realized.
“I’m fine.” You huff, though it's obvious that you’re not.
“You know the only reason he left was because of Tairn and Sgaeyl.”
The scowl that makes it onto your face does nothing to soften the irritation that has coiled around you.
“So you keep telling me, but at some point, that excuse seems awfully thin, doesn’t it?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you push your chair back, not wanting the same circular argument to continue after yesterday’s match between Bodhi and Garrick.
You raise to stand and your body barely listens to the command, your knee slightly buckling as you rise. Bodhi’s eyes widen a fraction and you know that he’s seen it, the weakness that you’ve been trying desperately to hide.
“Y/N, what’s -”
You don’t give him time to finish, picking up your tray and heading straight for the exit. You take a deep breath, but even those seem to be more difficult these days before making your way to physics class.
Trying to find solace in the numbers and equations, the velocity of a flight and fall, it's impossible to shake the stare that seems to want to bore a hole into your back. Instead of telling Bodhi to back off, you only stare forward, trying to drown out the tide of thoughts and emotions that have been eating at you since Xaden left.
_____________________
Tightening the hair that you’ve tied on top of your head, you wait for your name to be called. Every inch of your body is still humming with fatigue, a tiredness you haven’t felt in ages. At least not since Xaden had been making sure you were eating every meal.
And of course taking the iron draft the healers had suggested, but when you ran out yesterday and Xaden told you he was leaving for Montserrat, you just stopped caring. Instead of going to the infirmary to replenish your supply, you had stubbornly refused to eat dinner and stayed in your room. Grief and irritation a throbbing pulse, even through the sharp headache at your temple.
Ever since Threshing, Xaden’s bond between him and Sorrengail had driven a wedge into your relationship which neither of you knew how to navigate. You didn't blame him for his attention on her, her life was now his afterall, but it didn’t quash the ways you began to judge yourself. The thoughts of your weaknesses ratcheting up. The faulty ways of your own body.
You knew Violet had issues too, but having the attention of your own boyfriend had you feeling second best. What if you were just another thing for him to fix?
Not that Xaden treated you that way.
That didn’t change the thoughts that crept into your mind. The truth of not being the strongest. The deficiencies you’d had your whole life a magnifying glass of all of the ways that you were insufficient. Not suited to the rider’s quadrant. And on top of that, your power was just another run of the mill signet.
Why would the most powerful rider in the quadrant want anyone other than his equal in power? Why would Xaden continue to want you?
You weren’t bonded to the largest dragon, his own dragon’s mate, and although you could be deadly with your water wielding signet, it wasn’t overly impressive, not standing next to a perfectly controlled shadow wielder.
Taking a breath, you let all the feelings wash over you. That and the gnawing ache of fatigue that settled over you like a weighted blanket.
“L/N and Jand. Step up to the mat.”
“Fuck.” Bodhi’s whisper is not quite as low as he expected. “He’s going to lose his fucking mind.”
You didn’t turn to acknowledge Bodhi’s words, only moving towards the mat, uncertainty beating across your chest as you looked at your opponent. Jand was a second year, but his build was close to Garrick’s, raw power emanating from the mountain of muscle. Though where Garrick was controlled power and agility, Jand was nothing but brute strength and force.
With the way your hands had begun to tremble, you knew that this fight wasn’t going to end with you still standing.
“Finally I get to see what Rirorson’s little girl can do.” Jand says as his eyes continue to assess you.
A small curse leaves you as you step forward and your knee buckles slightly. The predatory look that courses over Jand’s eyes all but confirms the fact that he saw you falter and you know that he’ll use it to his advantage.
“We both know I’m not fucking little.” You can’t help but snark back. You aren’t the tallest female in the Quadrant, but you also aren’t as small as Sorrengail.
“And she bites back. Must be one of the reasons Riorson has kept you under his thumb.” He mocks.
The comment has your blood boiling, people assuming that Xaden was the reason that you’ve been successful in the Quadrant. Your lack of exceptional power meaning you had to attach yourself to someone who could compensate for your deficiencies again or so that’s what everyone thought.
It’s that anger that starts the match on the exact wrong foot for you to win. That and your bodies need to compensate for your growing fatigue. You let the fury burn through you and instead of control, you lash wildly for Jand’s middle, a move that he was clearly waiting on. Every ounce of training you practiced floating away like leaves in an autumn breeze.
Before you know it, he’s knocked you to the ground, his shoulder digging down as you lunge forward. You try to change your trajectory, but sluggish limbs make every movement take even longer. He catches your abdomen and a thick arm wraps around your middle, pushing you to the ground, the roll having him land on top.
“I thought you’d give me more of a fight than this.” You squirm, your anger beating like a drum between your ears.
Your left hand slides free and with it comes the dagger that is sheathed at your thigh. You buck your hips, not worried about the look of the maneuver. It must catch Jand by surprise because he lets the movement happen, you landing on top of him, but before you can draw your blade to his throat, his hand clamps around yours.
“Now, now. We are only starting to have a little fun.” Jand says while tearing the dagger from your arm.
You try to scramble away, but as you do, the heaviness in your limbs returns and you can’t seem to push off of the ground. Your head begins to pound, the world begins to comes in stops and starts. There’s yelling coming from the side of the mat, but that doesn’t stop Jand tearing straight for you.
You barely sidestep quickly enough, the blade piercing through your right thigh. A pained grunt tears from your lips as your knee drives down into the mat, the sticky blood pouring from your leg making you slip.
Instead of yeilding, you turn, trying to get the better of the male that currently has his back turned to you. Sticking out your other foot, you kick in his knee, but instead of falling forward, he loses his balance, his entire weight aiming for your now prone body.
You try to turn out of the way, but your muscles have decided they’ve had enough between your already low iron and the steady stream of blood flowing from the wound on your leg.
The shout of your name rings in your ears right before Jand’s head lands directly on top of yours. The crack of your skull reverberating between your ears, and in the next instant your own head goes slack.
______________________
Xaden
Walking through the flight field after their extremely hasty exit from Montserrat, all Xaden can do is rub his eyes. Exhaustion from the last two days settling in.
‘Never again.’ He rumbles to Sgaeyl, not needing to explain any further.
What turned into the idea to utilize the squad’s trip to Montserrat as a dagger drop had turned into his own personal fucking nightmare.
As he finally entered into the courtyard of the Rider’s Quadrant, his shoulders finally began to loosen as the thought of your face comes to his mind.
The exhaustion begins to settle as he continues the long stretch back to his quarters. A familiar voice hitting his ears as he makes his way up to the third year's floor.
“How many days does she have left in the infirmary?”
“The healers said that between the interruption in her tonic and blood loss, they aren’t sure how long she’ll be there. I mean she hasn’t even woken up yet.” Xaden listens as Bodhi’s voice floats from Garrick’s room.
His eyebrows draw in concern as he listens to their conversation.
“Well, I hope she wakes up in the next two days. I don’t particularly want to deal with my surly cousin after he’s been babysitting Sorrengail, dealing with Cat, and then adding Y/N in the mix.”
It only takes the mention of your name for the breath in Xaden’s lungs to cease. He doesn’t think, just crashes the cracked door open with the force of his uncertainty pulsing.
“Where’s Y/N?” His voice is calm, but his nerves are vibrating as he looks between his best friend and cousin. The exhaustion from before evaporating, his attention sharpening.
The look they exchange has nothing settling in Xaden’s composure, if anything, it now has every nerve ending on high alert.
“Spit. It. Out.” Xaden says, looking between them. “Now!”
“Infirmary.”
Xaden’s eyes widen as he stalks closer to Bodhi, before grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward.
“Explain. Now. While your ass takes me to her.” Xaden grounds out as he begins to pull Bodhi with him down the hall.
Xaden can feel the way Bodhi swallows before beginning to recount the story. Rage begins climbing up the cage in his mind, but behind it he can feel the terror following. The uncertainty of how he will find you eating him up on the inside.
“You were supposed to look after her.” Xaden seethes as they finally make it to the bridge to the Healer’s Quadrant.
“I did.” Bodhi says defensively, finally pushing Xaden’s hands from his jacket.
“Not very well if she ended up in the infirmary.”
Bodhi scoffs at his cousin’s words. “I’m not going to force my way into her room. And secondly, I tried. I tried to assuage her fears about you and Sorrengail, but I’m not you. I’m not the one who left because my dragon ‘needed to follow her mate due to the bond’. You may want to pin this on me, but I’m not the one tied to another woman’s life, while the woman I’m in love with continues to feel replaced!”
The words are like a smack across the face. Xaden wants to refute them, to explain how it's not easy to balance everything, that this was a strategic opportunity not to draw attention to their actions. Though as he goes to open his mouth, shouts from the infirmary greet his ears.
Fear tightening across his chest, he crosses into the doors, not waiting for Bodhi.
“Get Nolon. Her iron levels are too low, we need to see if he can help with the infection.”
No one stops to look at him, every healer focused on one room at the end of the hall. As he pushes forward, it takes every ounce of control to hold his shadows back from the terror.
When he reaches the last room, on the bed in front of him is a girl that looks too small for the large bed. Her eyes are sunken down, the brightness of her skin hidden under a pallor he’s never seen, her chest barely rising and falling.
Finally, someone notices him.
“Wingleader Riorson, we need you to leave. We need a sterile environment to get the patient stable.”
He tries to register the words in his mind, but he can’t seem to do anything but stare at you. You’ve never looked weak or sickly to him, but now it's as if your well has run dry.
A tug of his hand is the only thing that brings him back to the current situation.
“Wingleader, you can stay, but you need to be out here until we have her stable.” A familiar woman in light blue robes leads him to a chair in an empty room and she quickly turns and leaves.
Xaden is so stunned, every movement becomes mechanical.
‘Sit. You will be no good to her if you pass out as well.’ Sgaeyl’s voice is low, a current of worry settling into each syllable.
Xaden sits in the chair, more on instinct than awareness. He isn’t sure if it's been minutes or days, but his lungs can’t seem to take in any air. His head falls to his hands, the truth of you lying in the bed, finally landing squarely in his heart.
“I left her.” The words are mumbled, guilt and terror climbing like vines over a rotting tree.
‘You can’t blame yourself for so-’
He shuts Sgaeyl out. She may be right, but the words offer no comfort when the woman he loves is laying still and gaunt in the bed only mere feet away.
The sounds of the infirmary float to his ears as he strains to hear anything from where he is, but it's the creeping silence that begins to finally tear at his heart. The minute it settles, he’s on his feet, but before he can take two steps, the same healer from before walks in.
“She’s on the road to recovery, but Wingleader, it's important that you remind her she needs to make sure she always has the tonic prescribed by the Head Healer.”
All Xaden can do is nod his head, the need to see her making his skin hot. Terror that has been clawing on his insides still runs through every nerve.
Another healer pokes their head out of the room, the soft look on her face catching Xaden off-guard.
“You can go in now. She’s resting, but may be a little in and out.”
His strides are long, eating up the space between the chair he’s been seated in and the opening of the room. His movement falters though as he meets the threshold. She still looks pale, but her eyes seem less ravaged than before. He takes a breath as he strides forward, pulling the chair next to the head of her bed.
The minute he sits, his head falls onto the mattress inches from her temple, but it's the fragility in her form that has him still putting some distance between them.
“I told you that you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I should’ve known better. I should’ve listened to the voice that told me not to go.” The words are whispered, not really for either of you, just the only words he can get through the storm of emotion.
The semblance of space between you now seems like a never-ending ravine and to Xaden, it's unbearable. His hand slowly edges towards yours, his eyes on your face to clock any discomfort.
His fingers slide over your upturned palm until they can wrap firmly around yours. Once your hand is fully entwined with his, he can feel the cold that has settled into the tip of each finger. His thumb strokes over every inch of skin, the contact the only thing grounding him back to the reality that you will wake up. The truth that you will be alright.
“Always so damned stubborn.” The words are both exasperation and fondness, the emotion beginning to hit him at full force.
“Talking about yourself?” The words rasp from your throat as Xaden’s face quirks up to meet yours.
He lets his eyes search yours, left to right, taking in every detail.
For a moment, all he feels is relief.
“We will be having words later.” Xaden’s words are quiet as to not break the spell, but the command in them is there all the same.
You huff at him, showing that you know that there’s no escaping the upcoming conversation.
“Rest now, love.” Xaden’s other hand comes to your face, tracing the lines of your forehead softly as his other remains solidly intertwined with your fingers.
You hum in response, but your eyes close, breaths evening out again.
Xaden lays his head next to yours, letting the quietness of the room settle around you. His own eyes fluttering closed as your scent lulls him into sleep.
___________________
Groaning, you turn on the uncomfortable bed you find yourself in. Before opening your eyes, you can smell the sharp scent of the infirmary, the scent bringing back your memories of the fight. The dream of Xaden sitting next to your bed, an undercurrent in your mind, but you flutter your eyes open to see the all too familiar sight that you told yourself you wouldn’t be seeing again for the rest of the year.
Blinking to adjust to the light, you slowly move each of your limbs noting the comparable ease. As you sit up, you toss the covers to the side and your eyes are instantly drawn to the fresh scar on your leg. Examining it, you can’t help but realize how much deeper it is than you expected.
The shuffle of feet and bottles of the infirmary greets your ears and you know it must be morning with the heft of the voices filling the hall outside your room. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed has a grunt leaving your lips at the same time as the gentle creek of the door registers.
“There you are my dear. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” Your brow scrunches at the healer’s words, but you dismiss them as she steps in front of you.
“Only need to double check everything and then you can be on your way back to the riders. I suspect there is at least one person who is very anxious to see you up and moving around.”
You huff at her words, but don’t fuss as she continues to fulfill the necessary ministrations.
“The infection from the blade has been taken care of by Nolon. However, with the blood loss, your iron levels are still low. We’ve upped the dose of the tonic you were taking, so you may have some side effects in the next few days. If there is anything alarming, please come back and see us.”
You nod in response and moments later you are finally headed back towards the rider’s quadrant.
Gait stiff, you try to shake out the new scar that pulls as you walk.
Entering the courtyard though, you are met with the one face you didn’t want to see.
Bodhi stands there and when his eyes finally catch up to you, the look he gives is definitely not impressed.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to listen?” He chastises and it has your hackles rising.
This isn’t the first time you’ve felt belittled for the way your body is made, but it finally the time when you refuse to stand behind other people’s worries.
“Screw off, Bodhi. I’m not your responsibility.” The words roll off your tongue as sharp as the blades that are firmly strapped around your body.
You don’t stop walking, you aren’t interested in apologies or any additional chastisement. Taking the steps two at a time, you swing open the door and slam it back into place. The minute the lock clicks, you take a breath, shoulders dropping. Defeat and anger warring for your attention.
Ripping off your jacket, you throw it to the side before you let yourself fall face forward on the bed. The sheets let some of the tension still caught in your body soften slightly. Snuggling into your pillow, you try to breathe through every emotion and irritation crawling through your veins.
The sound of boots hitting the ground has your attention moving and the irritation that was slowly leaking away returning, the following knock making your eyes narrow.
“Go the fuck away, Bodhi.”
For a moment there’s no response, though there’s no movement away from the door either. The air whooshes out of your lungs as you stand up and stride towards the door. Yanking it open with the force of your agitation, your mouth opens, ready to argue. Instead, the air whooshes out of your lungs as you are encircled by strong arms and walked backwards into your room.
“Get off me.” The words come out between grit teeth as you struggle against a solid chest.
The arms wrapped around you only tighten and you continue to thrash until a familiar scent hits your nostrils. As the comfort of Xaden begins to wash around you, the anger gives way to confusion.
“I - I thought you were still in Montserrat.” The words are small as they leave your mouth.
He buries his face in your neck as he backs you towards your bed. A ragged breath leaves him before he finally looks up at you.
“Why? Why didn’t you take your tonic? Why didn’t you go to the infirmary and get more?” The words are rushed as if each question he’s been holding back longer than he could stand. And at each one, the anger begins to build again.
Frustration has you ripping yourself away, rage beginning to boil over like a tea kettle.
“I’m not a child!” The words are loud, your frustration straining your voice louder than you expect. “You don’t have to order me around like I don’t know my own body.”
That’s all it takes for the dam to break.
“I’m tired of this! Of having someone try to dictate the way I take care of my body! I’m tired of having a body that’s different from everyone else! Gods. I would fucking kill to just be normal for one fucking day!”
The emotions that you’ve held in since your arrival at Basgiath has this running over, unable to stop the words. Anger and frustration fuel your already short temper at constantly being perceived as different or incapable. Emotion boiling over, you can feel your skin heat, the flare of your temper burning through your skin. Turning, both hands rise to Xaden’s chest and you push back, leading him towards the door of your room.
“I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need to be tended to like a child. All I want is to be seen as a capable rider. Someone who’s worthy of a title I’ve earned through my own blood, sweat, and tears. Someone worth respect and fear equally.”
Xaden continues to let himself be pushed towards your door, all the while never taking his eyes off the woman in front of him. The same heat of emotion courses through him too, but he knows that if he pushes she will only shut down even further.
“Go, Xaden.” Your words are hard, no softness to brace the impact of the command. “I need some space.”
At those words, you feel the way Xaden tenses in your hold. Suddenly, the emotions that were burning bright only seconds ago are doused like a bucket of water over a raging fire. Looking up into Xaden’s gaze, there’s no masking the hurt and uncertainty and you realize you’ve made a mistake before he even opens his mouth.
“Alright.” The word is soft, odd, and completely unrecognizable as Xaden begins to turn.
The fight drops out of you at once, the emotions that were ready to explode moments before turning into terror that you’ve pushed away the one person you said you never would.
Instead of speaking, you can only watch as he walks out the door, his actions slow and the quietest click trails behind as the door closes.
Dread washes over you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pushed someone away after punishing yourself for your body’s failures. Guilt slithers up your throat making it hard to breathe and there’s no way to stop the hot tears that are burning at the back of your eyes.
Collapsing onto the bed, you let your own frustrations, guilt, and exasperation free in the form of sobs that soak through your pillow. For all the times you’ve chastised yourself, fallen from your own weaknesses, and your uncanny penchant for pushing away those who only want to help you.
You don’t know when you stop crying, when your body finally decides it's had enough, but at some point in the night you fall asleep. The single confirmation, the sharp light of dawn that crawls through your window.
Skipping the look into your own mirror, you shower, trying fiercely to tamp down the emotion that still wants to drag you under. Weapons are strapped to your body, leather hugging you tightly the thing you focus on as you strap on your boots.
Your footsteps are sure, tighter than usual as you begin to click down the hall. Today isn’t for you to confront your demons, it's for survival.
Arriving in the dining hall, you don’t turn to check the dais. Your head stays forward, eyes not landing on anything or anyone in particular.
“There she is.” The oily voice that you are now too familiar with floats to your ears. “Didn’t need your protector this morning?”
Your spine stiffens as your body registers the need for a fight. Fists curling at your side as you turn and meet Jand’s face. Rage boils as his words find home in the crack of your normally hardened armor. Instead of ignoring it and stepping back, you lean into the anger.
You turn fully, eyes clashing with his head-on. Your boots move two steps forward, now toe to toe with a man who is no more than a bully.
“I’m not a porcelain doll. I do not need a protector and I’d be more than happy to show that to you on the mat again.”
Jand’s eyes flash at the challenge, the spark of interest gleaming, his arm raising as if to rest on your shoulder.
“Oh sweetheart, you name the time and place and I’d be more than willing to put you on your ass.”
Before you can step back, a tendril of black slides to your shoulder, the impact of Jand’s hand never happening. The air around you begins to turn charged, colder than moments ago, yet the heat behind you registers swiftly.
You have to contain your eyeroll when you recognize the presence behind you.
“I suggest you get on with your morning, cadet.”
Jand must see the threat lying in Xaden’s eyes, because instead of pushing, he steps back.
“Only proves my point, sweetheart. Must be nice to trade your body for protection. Too bad Sorrengail seems more tempting than you.”
You don’t even get to take in the words Jand volleyed at you before the crack of his nose greets your ears. Xaden is no longer behind you, no longer in the calm control that he exuded behind you. His fist didn’t even register before hitting the other man squarely in the face.
Your eyes widen, but instead of diffusing the situation, the tension ratchets up again. Your voice is quiet when you decide to speak.
“Stop trying to fight my battles for me, especially when the words others say are true.”
You walk out, not wanting to participate in the masculine display of dominance any longer. Though there's a war inside of you when you toss between the merits of Xaden’s actions and the fact that you know he wouldn’t do something like that if you meant nothing to him.
Moving to the courtyard, you let the breeze settle across your face, in need of something to diffuse the adrenaline still pumping in your veins.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are not loud, not hurried, but hold a weight. Turning, your gaze finds Xaden, a look of remorse on his normally stoic face.
“You never need me to fight your battles. Not between you and your body or you and anyone else.”
You huff at his words, your gaze swinging away not in the mood to have this conversation, but it seems Xaden has other ideas.
As his fingers guide your face back to his, the gentleness of the gesture isn’t lost on you. He gives you more than enough time to pull away if you so desire.
“I need you to hear this. To really hear me.” Xaden continues as he leads you to the nearest alcove. He gestures for you to sit, and you do, gaze turning up to his.
Your eyebrows shoot up when he kneels in front of you, taking both of your hands in his own.
“I don’t think you realize how strong you are.” Your eyes roll at the words, but Xaden pulls your chin down, stopping the movement. “You’re going to listen to me without an attitude and then you can talk.”
The demand has you bristling, but the look in his eyes stops you before the retort leaves your mouth.
“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
Your jaw drops as you look back at him, now in complete shock. His hand squeezing yours is the only thing that drags you back to the present.
“You need to see yourself through my eyes.” He continues as you slump slightly. “All you see is deficiencies, constantly comparing yourself to others that will never be you. That will never overcome the obstacles that you cross everyday.”
“But instead of crumbling, you’ve stood, even on days when that simple task was a challenge. You’ve trained harder than those that have perfectly functioning bodies. Reach out to others that don’t deserve your care.”
Xaden scoots closer, his hand now cupping your cheek as he looks up at you.
“I know that my words will never diminish the hurt, the pain, or the way your body betrays you.” There’s no stopping the tear that rolls down your cheek.
“And I may be overprotective and annoying trying to remind you to eat and take your tonic, but -” He stops, a long breath escaping him. “I love you and I just want you to feel as good as possible, no matter the less than ideal consequences of the quadrant.”
“I know you asked for space and I will give it to you. But please never doubt your space next to me or the strength that you carry without me.”
Xaden rises and turns, but not before squeezing your hands again. The featherlight touch of a kiss landing on your forehead.
Before he can take two steps, you rise from the bench where you were perched, hand tugging at his wrist and arms wrapping fiercely around his bicep.
“I’m sorry.” Your words are whispered, the tone equally as devastated as Xaden’s own. Your face burrows in the crook of his arm shame radiating where there was once only frustration. “I don’t really want you to go. I’m just tired of always being different.”
He doesn’t try to refute you with words, instead only wrapping you into his arms, your body tucked securely into his own.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He says into your hair. “I just want you here. Happy and as healthy as can be. You are my world and it wrecked me to know that I wasn’t here when you needed me. It won’t happen again.”
Your hand curls into his shirt as you pull back slightly. “You can’t promise that.”
“I can and I will, especially since on the other end of it, I get you.”
The words barely have time to leave his lips before he leans down and steals the breath from your lungs.
The kiss is love and care all wrapped up in his warmth. Each movement is an equal challenge and answering defeat. You melt towards him, his smell, his warmth, and the care of his arms around you pulling you away from the emotions that had settled into the pit of your stomach.
“If there is one thing that I want you to never doubt, it is my love for you.” Xaden says as he pecks your lips sweetly one last time. “But, we do need to go get the rest of your tonics from the infirmary.”
You lose the battle with yourself as the smile rolls across your face. You shove him slightly, the playfulness returning to your gaze. Xaden only answers with his familiar smirk before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the Healer’s Quadrant.
.
.
Everything Taglist: @ilovetomtailor @nevermoresworld @nastylicious @iambored24601 @mysticalfuncollectorus @sadpieceofbread @alwayshave-faith @bestillmystuckyheart @luvly-writer @yuelhua @mitziix @dragonsandrinks @interphellar @whoreforfictionalmen18 @athena0802 @whyucloudingmymind @what-will-be-your-verse @rory-cakes @poisonivy2267 @samarav
