Hobby

The two elders exchanged compliments—genuine, but with a touch of exaggeration.

They had once been close friends, but after years in their own circles, their bond had softened, layered now with social niceties.

Serena barely noticed the change, but a slight frown formed on her face.

Then a quiet murmur brushed past her ear:

"Watching them go back and forth—isn't it a bit much?"

Without turning, she tilted her head slightly, gritting her teeth. "I never said that."

"Alright, you didn’t. I did." Xavier leaned closer, a smirk in his voice. "But if you're not annoyed, I definitely am. Come upstairs for a drink? I just had someone bring two bottles of ’87 Latour."

"Latour?" Serena’s eyes lit up at the mention.

Her mother, Nola, was a wine lover, and over the years, Serena had grown to love it too. Since she was old enough, weekends were often spent sipping wine with her mother—not to get drunk, just to savor the taste.

But Clint didn’t like her drinking. After they got together, she’d rarely lifted a wineglass again.

"See how thoughtful I am?" Xavier said, half-joking. "I’ve been saving those bottles for over six months. Almost opened them a few times, corkscrew in hand—but I held back. For you."

Serena didn’t respond right away.

"Aren’t we eating soon?" she asked, checking the time. "Dinner at your house usually starts at 6:30, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah, same old dishes as always. And besides..." Xavier gave her a once-over. "Wearing something like that, you’re not planning on eating much anyway, right? If you get hungry later, I’ll sneak you out and we’ll find something better."

She wasn’t really hungry, but Henry had invited her personally—it didn’t feel right to skip out.

"But... Uncle Blaze—"

Xavier caught her hesitation right away.

He knew full well the invitation had nothing to do with Henry wanting to see Serena. It was because he wanted to.

So whether she stayed or left, Henry wouldn’t care either way.

Xavier glanced around, then turned toward his father. "Dad, Uncle Bram, I just got an antique-cut Alexandrite stone. Serena’s into that kind of thing—I’ll take her to check it out."

"But dinner’s almost ready," Henry frowned. "Can’t it wait till after we eat?"

"It won’t take long! Serena’s obsessed with antique—you know she won’t be able to stop thinking about it if I don’t show her now." Xavier smiled at her, like he knew exactly what made her tick.

Henry hesitated, then looked at Bram. Bram didn’t seem to mind either way.

So Henry turned back to Serena. "Do you want to go?"

The setup was clear, and if she didn’t play along, she worried Xavier would push harder.

And truthfully—if he really did have an antique-cut Alexandrite stone—she was interested. Very.

She nodded politely. "Since Xavier’s kind enough to show me, I’d love to take a look. If we’re late, Uncle, you and my father go ahead and eat. No need to wait."

Henry gave a short nod. "Alright, just don’t miss dinner entirely for your hobby."

"We won’t!" Xavier answered quickly.

The two of them made their way upstairs, no one stopping them.

Once out of earshot, Serena relaxed. ""Tell me the truth—do you really have that antique-cut Alexandrite stone?"

"Of course! I wouldn’t lie about it, not to you," Xavier said with mock offense.

"I thought it was just an excuse to drink," she grinned, rubbing her hands together. "It’s been years since I touched an antique stone. I’ve been dying to."

Xavier clicked his tongue. "I still don’t get what Clint did to you. You were never the type to give things up for anyone. And for him? You gave up everything. I should’ve learned that trick and used it on you first."

Serena didn’t catch the last part—her mind was already elsewhere, distracted by the thought of antique.

As they walked, she reached into the bag on her arm and pulled out a silver, cylindrical object.

Xavier’s eyes went wide. He pointed at it like he’d seen a ghost. "Serena! What did Clint do to you if you're walking around with that?"

She paused, then realized what he was implying.

With a sharp kick to his shin, she rolled her eyes. "Don’t be gross. It’s a high-intensity flashlight—for inspecting antique stone. You can see the internal structure more clearly with this. What’s wrong with your head?"

"I admit it. I'm twisted." Xavier shrugged. "But can you blame me? I’ve had feelings for you forever. What man wouldn't be a little wicked in front of the woman he likes? And you—if your mind wasn’t a little twisted too, you wouldn’t have figured out what I meant so fast."

"You—!" she waved the flashlight at him like she might actually throw it. "If you don’t shut up, I will split your head open with this!"

Xavier shielded himself dramatically. "Ah! Queen Serena, have mercy! This humble servant knows he was wrong!"

His ridiculous pose made her laugh in spite of herself.

Then his tone shifted, more sincere. "But seriously... Your true love is stone. I heard Clint didn’t let you touch stones anymore. So why are you still carrying a tool like that around?"

Her smile faded.

Yeah. For Clint, she’d let go of so much—her clothes, her wine, her stones... even her sense of self.

And what did she get in return? Nothing but wounds. Wounds deep enough to take everything, even the lives of the people she loved.

What a joke.

She didn’t answer—just smiled faintly.

By then, they’d reached Xavier’s room.

She stepped aside, expecting him to open the door.

But apparently, he hadn’t picked up on that—and kept walking.

The two of them bumped right into each other.

***