Healing Myself

He who must not be named

It takes me a mere 3 seconds to take him in, but the emotions warring inside of me make it feel like an eternity.

His fiery red hair is cut close to the sides of his head whereas it is a little longer on the top. His amber eyes are filled with happiness, though the underlying sadness in them is clearly visible.

It makes for a rather striking picture.

If it weren't for the broader chest, thicker muscles and the tiny scar I knew was on the back of his right hand, I would've thought Dylan had returned back from the dead.

"Hello, love." He says in that oh so horrible British accent we both knew he'd never be able to master and finally a small laugh trickles out of me in my shocked state.

He grins, and the look in his eyes is one of victory. He liked winning and I was happy that a little of that defeated look in his eyes went away because of me.

We didn't deserve the bad things life had dished out to us. But we'd make it through. Together.

And then I squealed.

And then he squealed.

Because squealing is what you do when you meet your best friend in the whole world after a month of buffering Zoom calls and mismatched timezone texting.

I heard a thump from inside the house, along with a "fuck no" from Dad.

Now what would Mom say about that little outburst?

I grab his hand and rush inside the living room after closing the front door. Everyone's heads snap up to the two of us as we come and stand in the middle of the living area.

"Triple X," he greets my dad with a two finger salute, knowing it will rile him up.

"My mother did not name me Xander so you could call me that, kid." He grumbled, but everyone can see he means it light-heartedly. He moves closer to Dad and shakes hands with him as Dad gives him a loud pat on the back with his free hand.

I smile as I see them get along. They bicker a lot but I know Dad sees him like his own son.

He finally turns to everyone else in the room and gives our audience a huge smile. I take note of wary eyes and subtle scowls as he slings an arm around my shoulder.

Silas looks at North, who still seems as open mouthed as before, with accusing eyes. Did they have an argument? They seemed fine when they came in. Dr. Sean seems unhappy and so do Gabriel and Luke. Kota, Victor and Nathan have similar expressions of acceptance on their faces. Owen isn't as smiley as before, but he doesn't seem like a smiley person in general, so I suppose that is okay?

My best friend looks at me and back at the nine members of the Academy team with a knowing look.

Uh, hello doofus, care to share?

Clearly not, as he starts speaking to all of the guys instead. "Cheerio, strangers. So, my birth certificate has my name as Leon Ambros Weber but you guys can call me Leo. Actually, not can, but will. You guys will call me Leo because no one calls me Leon. Except," he motions to me with his head, giving me a slight smile, "Pixie here, of course. She gets special privileges according to the BFF rights to call me by any of my given names. That's about it, I guess. I could've given a better introduction but I've been away from Sang for, like, a month, so it's evidently taken a toll on my poor brain. So let's get this show on the road so you guys can skedaddle back to your home sweet homes and I can rejuvenate in my best friend's positive vibes. Also, I know about the Academy so you all can chill out. Are those French toasts, by the way?"