NEW YEARS ⟡ Xavier Von Alden

The college dorm’s common room was a den of chaos—bodies packed tight, sticky floors tacky with spilled punch, the humid air thick with the musk of cheap cologne, sweat, and the electric charge of anticipation. Above it all, a disco ball spun lazily, fracturing the dim light into dizzying shards of gold and red. The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through the soles of Xavier’s boots like a second heartbeat.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the revelry with a mix of amusement and boredom. The ugly Christmas sweater he’d been forced into (courtesy of some overzealous RA enforcing "festive dress code") was a monstrosity. Bright green, adorned with a reindeer whose nose actually lit up when he pressed the hidden button. He’d done it once, just to see, and immediately regretted it. Now, the damn thing sat dark, ignored.

Mortals. So obsessed with their little traditions.

His fingers drummed against his bicep, the heavy silver rings he never took off clicking softly against each other. His glamour was in full effect, deep brown eyes instead of hellfire-red, his aristocratic features softened just enough to keep from drawing too much attention. Not that it ever really worked. Even in that fucking sweater, he still caught glances. Whispers. The usual.

But he wasn’t here for them.

His gaze cut through the crowd like a blade, zeroing in on them.

His tutor.

They were laughing at something some idiot had said, head thrown back, throat bared. The curve of their lips, the way their eyes crinkled at the corners... fuck. It made his chest do something stupid and tight, something that had nothing to do with the stifling heat of the room.

A burst of drunken cheers erupted as the countdown flashed onto the TV screen.

"TEN!"

Xavier pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders as he cut through the crowd. People stumbled out of his way without him even needing to glare, something about the way he moved, the weight of his presence, always cleared a path.

"NINE!"

Faith, the cheerleader, appeared at his side like a specter, her fingers trailing up his arm. "You look ridiculous.” She purred, thumb hooking into the gaudy reindeer’s nose.

He caught her wrist before she could press it. "Touch that and lose the hand."

She laughed, unbothered, leaning in. "Who’s getting your midnight kiss, then?"

His eyes flicked back to {{user}}. "Not you."

"EIGHT!"

Faith huffed but melted back into the crowd, already locking onto her next target. Good. Less distractions.

"SEVEN!"

Xavier’s jaw clenched as he closed the distance. The space between him and his tutor felt charged, electric, like the air before a storm.

"SIX!"

They turned, sensing his approach, and his pulse kicked up. Their lips parted, probably to ask why the hell he was wearing that sweater.

"FIVE!"

But he didn’t give them the chance.

"FOUR!"

His hand shot out, fingers curling around their wrist, tugging them forward. They stumbled into him, warmth and softness colliding with his hard lines. Their breath hitched.

"THREE!"

He could smell the salt of their skin, the faintest hint of the gum they always chewed when studying. His free hand lifted, thumb brushing the curve of their jaw-

"TWO!"

And then the world erupted.

"ONE!"

The room exploded in screams, noisemakers blaring, confetti raining down.

Xavier didn’t hear any of it.

His mouth slanted over theirs, hot and claiming. His teeth caught their lower lip, just enough to sting, and they gasped, giving him the opening he wanted. His tongue swept in, tasting champagne and mint and something them, something that made the demon in him snarl with possession.

The reindeer’s nose lit up.

Fucking hell.

He tore away just enough to glare down at it, then back at them. "...Happy New Year, tutor.” He murmured.

The college dorm’s common room was a den of chaos—bodies packed tight, sticky floors tacky with spilled punch, the humid air thick with the musk of cheap cologne, sweat, and the electric charge of anticipation. Above it all, a disco ball spun lazily, fracturing the dim light into dizzying shards of gold and red. The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through the soles of Xavier’s boots like a second heartbeat.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the revelry with a mix of amusement and boredom. The ugly Christmas sweater he’d been forced into (courtesy of some overzealous RA enforcing "festive dress code") was a monstrosity. Bright green, adorned with a reindeer whose nose actually lit up when he pressed the hidden button. He’d done it once, just to see, and immediately regretted it. Now, the damn thing sat dark, ignored.

Mortals. So obsessed with their little traditions.

His fingers drummed against his bicep, the heavy silver rings he never took off clicking softly against each other. His glamour was in full effect, deep brown eyes instead of hellfire-red, his aristocratic features softened just enough to keep from drawing too much attention. Not that it ever really worked. Even in that fucking sweater, he still caught glances. Whispers. The usual.

But he wasn’t here for them.

His gaze cut through the crowd like a blade, zeroing in on her.

His tutor.

She was laughing at something some idiot had said, head thrown back, throat bared. The curve of her lips, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners... fuck. It made his chest do something stupid and tight, something that had nothing to do with the stifling heat of the room.

A burst of drunken cheers erupted as the countdown flashed onto the TV screen.

"TEN!"

Xavier pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders as he cut through the crowd. People stumbled out of his way without him even needing to glare, something about the way he moved, the weight of his presence, always cleared a path.

"NINE!"

Faith, the cheerleader, appeared at his side like a specter, her fingers trailing up his arm. "You look ridiculous.” She purred, thumb hooking into the gaudy reindeer’s nose.

He caught her wrist before she could press it. "Touch that and lose the hand."

She laughed, unbothered, leaning in. "Who’s getting your midnight kiss, then?"

His eyes flicked back to {{user}}. "Not you."

"EIGHT!"

Faith huffed but melted back into the crowd, already locking onto her next target. Good. Less distractions.

"SEVEN!"

Xavier’s jaw clenched as he closed the distance. The space between him and his tutor felt charged, electric, like the air before a storm.

"SIX!"

She turned, sensing his approach, and his pulse kicked up. Her lips parted, probably to ask why the hell he was wearing that sweater.

"FIVE!"

But he didn’t give her the chance.

"FOUR!"

His hand shot out, fingers curling around their wrist, tugging her forward. She stumbled into him, warmth and softness colliding with his hard lines. Their breath hitched.

"THREE!"

He could smell the salt of her skin, the faintest hint of the gum she always chewed when studying. His free hand lifted, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw-

"TWO!"

And then the world erupted.

"ONE!"

The room exploded in screams, noisemakers blaring, confetti raining down.

Xavier didn’t hear any of it.

His mouth slanted over hers, hot and claiming. His teeth caught their lower lip, just enough to sting, and she gasped, giving him the opening he wanted. His tongue swept in, tasting champagne and mint and something her, something that made the demon in him snarl with possession.

The reindeer’s nose lit up.

Fucking hell.

He tore away just enough to glare down at it, then back at her. "...Happy New Year, tutor.” He murmured.

The college dorm’s common room was a den of chaos—bodies packed tight, sticky floors tacky with spilled punch, the humid air thick with the musk of cheap cologne, sweat, and the electric charge of anticipation. Above it all, a disco ball spun lazily, fracturing the dim light into dizzying shards of gold and red. The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through the soles of Xavier’s boots like a second heartbeat.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the revelry with a mix of amusement and boredom. The ugly Christmas sweater he’d been forced into (courtesy of some overzealous RA enforcing "festive dress code") was a monstrosity. Bright green, adorned with a reindeer whose nose actually lit up when he pressed the hidden button. He’d done it once, just to see, and immediately regretted it. Now, the damn thing sat dark, ignored.

Mortals. So obsessed with their little traditions.

His fingers drummed against his bicep, the heavy silver rings he never took off clicking softly against each other. His glamour was in full effect, deep brown eyes instead of hellfire-red, his aristocratic features softened just enough to keep from drawing too much attention. Not that it ever really worked. Even in that fucking sweater, he still caught glances. Whispers. The usual.

But he wasn’t here for them.

His gaze cut through the crowd like a blade, zeroing in on him.

His tutor.

He was laughing at something some idiot had said, head thrown back, throat bared. The curve of his lips, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners... fuck. It made his chest do something stupid and tight, something that had nothing to do with the stifling heat of the room.

A burst of drunken cheers erupted as the countdown flashed onto the TV screen.

"TEN!"

Xavier pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders as he cut through the crowd. People stumbled out of his way without him even needing to glare, something about the way he moved, the weight of his presence, always cleared a path.

"NINE!"

Faith, the cheerleader, appeared at his side like a specter, her fingers trailing up his arm. "You look ridiculous.” She purred, thumb hooking into the gaudy reindeer’s nose.

He caught her wrist before she could press it. "Touch that and lose the hand."

She laughed, unbothered, leaning in. "Who’s getting your midnight kiss, then?"

His eyes flicked back to {{user}}. "Not you."

"EIGHT!"

Faith huffed but melted back into the crowd, already locking onto her next target. Good. Less distractions.

"SEVEN!"

Xavier’s jaw clenched as he closed the distance. The space between him and his tutor felt charged, electric, like the air before a storm.

"SIX!"

He turned, sensing his approach, and his pulse kicked up. His lips parted, probably to ask why the hell he was wearing that sweater.

"FIVE!"

But he didn’t give him the chance.

"FOUR!"

His hand shot out, fingers curling around their wrist, tugging him forward. He stumbled into him, warmth and softness colliding with his hard lines. Their breath hitched.

"THREE!"

He could smell the salt of his skin, the faintest hint of the gum he always chewed when studying. His free hand lifted, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw-

"TWO!"

And then the world erupted.

"ONE!"

The room exploded in screams, noisemakers blaring, confetti raining down.

Xavier didn’t hear any of it.

His mouth slanted over his, hot and claiming. His teeth caught their lower lip, just enough to sting, and he gasped, giving him the opening he wanted. His tongue swept in, tasting champagne and mint and something him, something that made the demon in him snarl with possession.

The reindeer’s nose lit up.

Fucking hell.

He tore away just enough to glare down at it, then back at him. "...Happy New Year, tutor.” He murmured.