Xavier obsession

A fragile thread

The night blurred together in a haze of sensations I couldn't fully comprehend. Xavier's touch, his lips against mine, the way his hands seemed to know exactly where to go, it all felt like an addiction I couldn't escape. I should have been repelled, should have been terrified of how easily he wrapped me around his finger, but instead, I was drawn to him, to the darkness he offered like an invitation I couldn't resist.

As the night wore on, we found ourselves in his living room, the city lights casting a muted glow through the windows. The air was thick with tension, thick with things unsaid. I wasn't sure how we got here, but the words on the tip of my tongue refused to leave—I want to go home. But I didn't want to leave, not really. I wanted to stay, to see where this thing between us would go, even if I knew it was a path full of thorns.

Xavier was sitting across from me, leaning back in his leather chair, his eyes never leaving mine. There was something about the way he looked at me, something calculating in the way he watched every small shift in my expression. He wasn't like other men I'd known—he was colder, more dangerous. And yet, there was something compelling about it.

"You're quiet," Xavier said, his voice smooth, like he could read every thought in my mind.

"I'm just thinking," I muttered, barely meeting his gaze.

"About what?" he pressed, his tone more intrigued than anything else. "How much deeper you're going to fall?"

I snapped my head up at that, my chest tightening. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're here with me, Zoey. You keep coming back. The question isn't whether or not you'll fall. It's whether you'll be able to stop yourself once you do."

I hated how right he was. There was no escaping it now, no pretending that I was still in control of this situation. I was tangled in his web, whether I liked it or not.

"Stop acting like you have me figured out," I said, my voice a little shakier than I intended. "You don't."

He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes never leaving mine. "You're wrong. I know exactly who you are. I can see it in the way you look at me, in the way you respond to me. You're already mine, Zoey."

I felt my heart pound in my chest, the words hitting me like a blow. He was right, and I hated him for it. He made it sound so easy, as if this was all part of some game he was playing, something he could control. But this wasn't a game for me. Not anymore.

"I'm not yours," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "I'm not anyone's."

Xavier's smile was slow and predatory, like he was savoring the fight in me. "You're wrong. You belong to me in ways you don't even understand yet."

I stood up abruptly, the words burning in my chest. I needed to get out, needed space to breathe. "I need to leave."

"You're already here," he said, his voice soft, almost mockingly. "You've already given yourself to me. There's no going back."

I felt a flicker of something in my chest, something sharp and painful, but I didn't want to feel it. I didn't want to admit that he was right. That somehow, with every word he spoke, every touch, I was falling deeper into this dangerous game.

"You think you know everything about me," I said, my voice quiet but steady as I turned to face him. "But you don't. You don't know who I really am."

His gaze softened for a moment, and I almost believed him when he spoke next. "Maybe not, Zoey. But I know exactly who you could become. And that's enough for now."