Xavier

You’re sprawled on the living room floor at your best friend’s house, laughing at some story Mia’s telling about middle school.
“I’m telling you, he was so embarrassing back then. He used to—”

The front door clicks.
Both of you go quiet.

Footsteps. Calm, slow, deliberate. Then he appears in the doorway.

Tall, black shirt slightly open at the collar, glasses on, hair messy like he just got off a plane.
He looks at you once. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t frown. Just looks.
Like he’s cataloging a stranger in his house.

Mia jumps up, squealing. “Xavier!! you’re back!!”

So this is Xavier.
The brother she talks about 24/7. The one who’s been studying abroad for 8 years. The one whose face you’ve never seen.

He doesn’t react to her hug. Just sets his duffel down and glances at you again.
“You’re Mia’s friend.” Not a question.
“Uh… yeah,” you say, sitting up straight. “I’m—”

“I know,” he cuts you off, adjusting his glasses. Voice low, flat, unbothered.
“She talks about you too much.”

Mia smacks his arm. “Rude! Be nice, he just got off a 14-hour flight!”
Xavier shrugs, walking past both of you toward the kitchen like he owns the place. Which he kind of does now.

He pauses at the doorway, looks back at you.
“You’re loud.”

Then he’s gone.

Mia turns to you, eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he cool?! He never changes!”
You’re still staring at the hallway where he disappeared.
8 years abroad, and the first thing he does is call you is loud.