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Born from the sun’s flames and sparked from rays of its light, Xavier had lived an eternity. He had watched civilizations rise and collapse into dust so many times he had long since stopped counting.
And yet, in all his years, he had never been in love.
He understood the concept well enough. Love was something mortals shared—two people drawn together, exchanging vows and rings, coupling to create a new life together.
Still... foreign.
From the high steps of his temple, Xavier gazed down toward the river below—the same river where he had met up with that mortal a few days ago—and there he was again.
Warmth bloomed across Xavier’s face before he could stop it. The wind howled fiercely today, but it did nothing to cool the heat burning beneath his skin. He watched from afar as the man scanned the area, clearly searching for him.
Xavier allowed himself to stay just a moment longer, until he noticed a small figure trailing behind the man.
A little girl.
"She looks young.." Xavier murmured to himself. "Could she be his daughter?"
It didn’t add up. Her pink hair and bright eyes were nothing like the man’s, yet there was something unmistakable between them, a familiarity, a bond that chirped family.
"Maybe she took after her mother.. so he is married..." Xavier averted his gaze for a split second. "Right.. one with handsome features wouldn't stay single for long."
Curiosity pulled him close. Xavier descended slowly, his long sleeves fluttering, loose garments catching the wind. He had left his hair unbound today, and it flowed freely behind him. When his feet touched the earth, the man startled.
"Oh—" He blinked, then smiled. "That’s him, look." He turned toward the girl.
"Your daughter, I assume?" Xavier asked, immediately regretting how quickly the words left his mouth.
"Well.. not exactly."
"Hm?"
"We’re coworkers, basically—well, we’ll explain later. Lylia wanted to see your temple and hear your stories."
Xavier glanced to the man’s left. The girl—Lylia—was staring at him openly now, curiosity written across her face.
"Follow behind," Xavier said, turning away to hide his embarrassment. Why did he care so much? Why was that the first thing he asked?
His marital status doesn’t concern me, he repeated to himself.
The path led upwards until the clouds felt close enough to touch. At the peak stood the temple, quiet and ancient.
"Did we not arrive yet?!" Lylia whined, dramatically out of breath.
"Almost," Xavier replied calmly. "To your right are the beginnings of my garden." As they neared the entrance, the forest thinned, giving way to rows of carefully tended flowers glowing under Xavier's gentle care.
Fredrinn took in the place. "They’re quite pretty, I don’t remember these."
"You were quite.. intoxicated," Xavier replied.
They had met on a rain-soaked night—a man stumbling through the woods, drenched and drunk, seeking shelter—he had collapsed beneath the temple roof and slept there until morning, waking up to freshly brewed tea by none other than Xavier.
"I guess," the man said, grinning. He let out an embarrassed chuckle.
Xavier looked away. His heart seemed to stumble whenever the other man smiled like that.
Inside the temple, they sat together as Xavier poured the tea he brewed. He explained each step patiently while Lylia scribbled furiously in her notebook, pencil smudging the pages as she tried to capture everything: gardening, cooking, fragments of history.
Time passed too quickly.
The notebook filled with notes from an era long gone, spoken by a monarch who no longer ruled. In an age where no one came to temples to pray, Xavier’s days had shifted toward quiet domesticity, tending gardens, preparing meals, speaking to flowers instead of people.
"Do you live alone here?" the man asked.
"Yes."
"Don’t you get lonely?"
Xavier chuckled softly. "It would feel lonely to a human. But I am incapable of emotion beyond a surface level. I enjoy speaking with flowers and animals. I can hear what they say."
"Really?!" Lylia gasped, only catching the last part. She grabbed Xavier’s sleeve and dragged him outside toward the garden.
"What is it saying?" The girl, almost bouncing in place, asked
"She wishes for more visitors, wants her beauty to be admired."
He continued translating the whispers of petals and leaves until Fredrinn—who had remained quietly observant—spoke up.
"Lylia, I’d like to speak with him alone. Is that alright?"
"Adult talk? Boring," she groaned, sticking out her tongue.
Fredrinn laughed lightly. "Don’t go beyond the flowers."
"I know, I’m not a little kid!" she pouted as she wandered off.
Back inside the temple, Xavier poured out the remaining tea.
"You said you can’t feel human emotions," Fredrinn said, speaking first.
"Yes. I feel simple things, like contempt, but after living so long.. they dull. I can’t remember the last time I was angry. Or cried. Or.." He hesitated. "..fell in love."
"Never felt love?"
Xavier shook his head, gaze drifting away, feeling embarrassed. "I don’t even know what it feels like."
"Well," Fredrinn said thoughtfully, "you enjoy being around that person. You look forward to seeing them. Your heart beats faster."
With every word, unease coiled tighter in Xavier’s chest.
"Can one feel love—a man—to another man?"
Fredrinn blinked, then smiled. "Yeah. Of course, we’re not in the 80s."
Xavier swallowed. He almost spoke—almost confessed—but stopped himself.
Mortals lived such brief lives.
He remembered falling into a light sleep and waking centuries later. Remembering blinking and finding a city he once loved reduced to ashes.
"Have you ever fallen for a male companion?" Fredrinn asked instead.
"..I think," Xavier replied.
'It’s better if he doesn’t know,' Xavier thought.
He could be everything to this mortal's fleeting life. But to Xavier—who would live as long as the sun burned in the sky—it would be nothing more than a blink.