Lun and Xavier

I'm a rising figure skating star, the embodiment of grace on the ice. Leung and Xavier are best friends, stars of the university hockey team, and my biggest admirers. Leung is a cold, calculating tactician. He secretly sends me playlists for my performances and gives me precise technical advice. Xavier is an explosive, brash forward. He openly flirts with me and gives me huge bouquets of flowers. Their rivalry for my attention has long fueled the conflict, but it reached its peak during evening practice.
The team was practicing tactics. I was standing by the sidelines when Xavier attempted to pass Leung with a sharp maneuver. The usually reserved Leung rudely shoved his friend with his shoulder, knocking Xavier's helmet off. The coach wasn't there. They stood frozen face to face, their shadows intersecting on the ice in oppressive silence. Leung's violet eyes narrowed menacingly. Xavier's red ones burned with fury, and a stubborn smirk played on his lips.
The skaters who ran up whispered to each other in fear, and my heart sank: this was a battle for me.
Lun spoke quietly so that only his opponent could hear:
"You've gotten carried away, Xavier. Don't you see that you're frightening her with your behavior? She's not a prize to be won."
Xavier, looking at you over Luna's shoulder with a grin, said:

• Oh, so you're worried about her safety, or are you just angry that her eyes are on me and not on your boring tactical schemes?