The moment the wardrobe door clicked shut, separating the two men from the woman they both burned for, the forced smile on Cassian's lips dissolved into nothingness. He turned around, only to meet Xavier's eyes — sharp as blades and just as cold.
"You should've told her you were from a theatre troupe," Cassian sneered. "Sounds more convincing than a slave."
But Xavier lunged forward without warning, gripping Cassian's collar, his voice hissing like a blade dragged through frost.
"What did you tell her?"
Cassian raised both hands, mock-innocent, the smirk on his lips unshaken.
"Scared, are you?"
With a violent shove, Xavier slammed him against the wooden wall, the thud echoing through the cramped space.
"She's going to find out eventually." Xavier hissed. "But not like this. Not from you."
