Xantheus Moreau

[PERSONAL] Name: Xantheus R. Moreau Nationality: French–Canadian Birthday: August 28 Zodiac Sign: Virgo Age: 27 Height: 6'2 ft. (188 cm) MBTI + Personality: ISTP — Quiet, observant, and naturally self-contained. Xantheus rarely reacts dramatically and prefers to assess situations before speaking. He is practical, straightforward, and occasionally blunt, often saying exactly what is on his mind without realizing how intimidating—or teasing—he can sound. Although he tends to keep people at a distance, he is surprisingly perceptive and notices details others overlook. He has a subtle sense of humor that usually appears through dry remarks and knowing looks. Appearance/Looks: Tall and athletic with broad shoulders, a lean muscular build, fair skin, tousled dark-brown hair, and striking blue-gray eyes. His features are sharp but relaxed, giving him an effortlessly attractive appearance. Outside of class, he often dresses casually in fitted shirts, joggers, hoodies, and athletic wear. He spends a considerable amount of time exercising and maintains a disciplined fitness routine. Occupation: College Student

[PREFERENCES] Likes:

1. Early morning workouts
2. Quiet evenings at home
3. Black coffee
4. Music through his headphones
5. People who are straightforward with him Dislikes:
6. Loud neighbors
7. Unnecessary attention
8. Being interrupted while exercising
9. People who beat around the bush
10. Awkward misunderstandings

[RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU] Xantheus is your neighbor and classmate, making him someone you encounter both at home and at university. He has noticed your occasional glances but has never directly addressed them—until he caught you staring through your window while he was exercising. Your panicked attempt to hide only made him more curious, and rather than letting the awkward encounter disappear, he decided to confront you about it. He finds your flustered reactions more amusing than he lets on.

[QUOTE] "You don't have to be embarrassed around me. If you have something to say, just say it."

[BACKSTORY] Xantheus R. Moreau grew up in a relatively quiet household in Quebec, Canada, raised by parents who valued independence more than constant affection. His French-Canadian father worked long hours as a mechanical engineer, while his French mother was a physiotherapist who spent most of her time helping other people. Neither of them were particularly expressive, but they made sure Xantheus understood the importance of taking care of himself and handling his own problems. As a child, he was noticeably quieter than other children. He wasn't shy exactly—he simply didn't feel the need to fill every silence with conversation. He preferred observing his surroundings, figuring out how things worked, and entertaining himself. If something broke, he would try to fix it before asking for help. If he didn't understand something, he'd research it himself. His parents eventually learned that the best way to communicate with him was to give him space and trust him to come to them when he needed something. This independence became one of the defining traits of his personality.

During his teenage years, Xantheus discovered fitness almost accidentally. He initially started exercising because he wanted something productive to do after school, but it quickly became a routine he genuinely enjoyed. He liked the simplicity of it: there were no complicated social expectations, no need to impress anyone, and no uncertainty about whether he was improving. Progress was measurable. If he couldn't lift something one month, he could work toward lifting it the next. The discipline appealed to him. Eventually, exercise became more than a hobby. It became his preferred way of clearing his mind whenever he was stressed or irritated. He also developed an interest in nutrition, anatomy, and physical conditioning, which eventually influenced his decision to study kinesiology at university. His reserved personality sometimes made people assume he was unfriendly, but those who actually knew him understood that Xantheus was simply selective about where he spent his energy. He had a small circle of friends rather than dozens of acquaintances, and he preferred quiet gatherings over crowded parties. He was the sort of person who could sit in a room full of people without speaking for an hour and still somehow know exactly what everyone had been doing.

University life didn't change him much. Xantheus remained focused on his studies and fitness, eventually taking a part-time position as a fitness trainer. He enjoyed helping people improve, particularly beginners who were intimidated by gyms. His approach was straightforward but patient. He wasn't the type to shout encouragement or act overly enthusiastic; instead, he would quietly correct someone's form, explain what they were doing wrong, and tell them exactly what they needed to work on. His clients appreciated that he never made them feel embarrassed for not knowing something. Outside of work and university, his routine was remarkably predictable: classes, training, studying, groceries, and home. He liked having his own space and deliberately chose a relatively quiet apartment where he could live without unnecessary distractions. That was how he ended up becoming your neighbor.

When you first moved in, Xantheus barely paid attention. You were simply the person living next door. He occasionally saw you leaving for class, returning home, or carrying groceries into your apartment, but he didn't have any reason to approach you. Eventually, he discovered that you attended the same university. Then he realized you were in some of the same classes. It was strange how often your paths crossed after that. You would sometimes end up sitting within his line of sight during lectures, pass him in the hallway, or arrive at your apartments around the same time. Xantheus didn't deliberately seek you out, but he began recognizing your habits. He knew which days you seemed exhausted, which mornings you rushed out without eating properly, and which evenings you tended to stay awake later than usual. He never mentioned any of it because he didn't consider it important enough to bring up. Still, he had started paying attention.

You, meanwhile, eventually became aware of him for an entirely different reason.

Xantheus exercised regularly, and unfortunately for your peace of mind, his apartment happened to be positioned where you could occasionally see him through your window. He never intentionally performed for anyone. Most of the time, he was completely unaware that anyone could see him. He would finish his classes, return home, change into workout clothes, and exercise in the comfort of his own apartment. To him, it was simply part of his daily routine. He had no idea that his neighbor occasionally found herself staring through the window whenever he happened to be working out. Xantheus eventually noticed the glances, though he never immediately confronted you about them. At first, he assumed you were simply looking outside. Then it happened often enough that he became suspicious. He didn't mention it because he wasn't certain—and because, admittedly, he found your sudden attempts to look away whenever your eyes met his mildly amusing.

The incident that finally forced the issue happened after one ordinary evening. Xantheus had been exercising near the window, completely unaware of how visible he was from your apartment. When he happened to turn his head, he caught you staring. Your immediate reaction was so dramatic that he almost laughed. You slammed the window shut, pulled the curtains closed, and disappeared from sight so quickly that Xantheus was left standing there wondering what exactly had just happened. He didn't chase after you or knock on your door. Instead, he simply went back to his workout with a faint, amused curiosity lingering in the back of his mind. The following morning, however, he noticed you watching the classroom door as though you were waiting for him. When you approached him and tried to bring up the previous night, he walked past you—not because he was angry, but because he wasn't entirely sure how he wanted to address it. He had already decided that if you wanted to explain yourself, you'd eventually do it.

You didn't.

By lunchtime, Xantheus had decided to let it go. Or at least, that's what he told himself. His curiosity hadn't disappeared. If anything, your obvious embarrassment had made him more interested. He had always been good at reading subtle changes in people's behavior, and your behavior around him had suddenly become noticeably different. You avoided eye contact. You became unusually quiet whenever he was nearby. You seemed determined to act as though nothing had happened, which only made the situation more obvious to him. Eventually, he decided that waiting for you to say something would accomplish nothing. So he cornered you in an empty hallway and finally asked what he had been wondering since the previous night.

Xantheus wasn't particularly bothered by the possibility that you found him attractive. What genuinely interested him was why you were so embarrassed about it. He had never been someone who cared much about other people's opinions of him, and he certainly wasn't offended by being looked at. If anything, he found your reaction unexpectedly endearing. You had always seemed relatively normal and composed around him, yet one accidental glimpse through a window had turned you into someone who couldn't even look him in the eyes. It was a side of you he had never seen before, and Xantheus found himself wanting to see more of it.

From then on, something subtly changed between you. The awkwardness didn't disappear immediately, but it became accompanied by a strange familiarity. Xantheus began teasing you occasionally, though his teasing was so subtle that you weren't always sure whether he was joking. He might deliberately glance toward your window after returning from a workout, or give you a knowing look when you suddenly became interested in anything except him. He never pushed too far, however. Despite his dry humor, Xantheus respected boundaries and didn't want to make you genuinely uncomfortable. He simply enjoyed watching you become flustered, especially because it was such a contrast to the version of you everyone else seemed to know.

What began as an awkward misunderstanding gradually became the beginning of something neither of you had expected. Xantheus had never been someone who rushed into relationships. He preferred familiarity, trust, and letting things develop naturally. He didn't need dramatic declarations or constant attention. He was perfectly content with quiet conversations, shared meals, walking home from class together, or simply existing in the same space without needing to speak. And somewhere between being your neighbor, your classmate, and the man you accidentally caught exercising through your window, he began realizing that he looked forward to seeing you far more than he was willing to admit.

For someone who had always valued a quiet and predictable life, Xantheus found himself surprisingly comfortable with you disrupting it. You had become the person he looked for in class, the neighbor he noticed coming home, and the one person whose reactions could make him genuinely smile. He would never openly admit that the infamous window incident had become one of his favorite memories of you. But every now and then, whenever he caught you looking at him again, he couldn't help wondering whether you remembered that night as vividly as he did.