The key to a successful conversation and having a good time rested in never bringing up the topics that led to an argument, Giselle mused as she stared at Xavier.

She did plan on asking him about Sean that day, though.

Over dinner last night, Abbott had talked about how the crimes were increasing in Petrichor and that there was no order. She'd listened casually, uninterested, until he mentioned Sean. It had taken her a long time to recall where she'd heard that name before.

Then it hit her. The man who'd informed Xavier about a meeting at seven had also mentioned that name, and she was curious about how Xavier knew someone like him.

She watched her boyfriend as he typed away on his phone. He wore black leather as always, and she wondered why he did that if it was something associated with criminals in Petrichor. Her heart hammered for a moment at the possibilities.

He paused typing, looked at her for a while, then smiled a little, and typed again. Her lips pulled up at how younger that made him seem.

He was in a good mood today. They hadn't met yesterday, for all she wanted to do was sit alone in her room and read. Some days, human interactions became a burden for her, and thankfully, it was the same day Xavier had something work-related to do, so it all worked out in her favor.

The pre-dusk glow of the sky illuminated the park in hues of orange and pink. She smiled at how well this day was going. Maybe it was because she was already expecting it not to go well. They'd spent the entire day together in their secret spot, not a single person around, while her father caught up with some of his old friends in the town.

"How long?" she asked, putting her left cheek on her bended knees, her bare feet brushing against the cold grass.

He looked at her and pulled his lower lip between his teeth. "Just writing the last line, beautiful."

She smiled and locked her arms around her legs. "Your eye is healing..."

Xavier paused typing, his shoulders tensing up. She closed her eyes in regret. That was exactly the kind of topic she'd decided not to bring up.

He muttered, "Yeah," and then resumed typing a few more words before saying, "All done." He offered her the phone.

She smiled at him. "Read it to me." A slight tinge of pink crept up to his cheeks, and she melted at the view.

"Okay." He gulped, then cleared his throat, his eyes scanning over the text he'd typed. His brows merged for a second, then he edited something on his phone and said, "Okay. Don't laugh."

She was already grinning. "I won't."

He exhaled, cheeks still flushed. "Okay." He cleared his throat again, scanned the text, and locked his eyes on her face. "If I knew that my made-up fears... Would cause my loved one tears. I would tell you everything. To let your heart soar and sing.

"I'd spill my mind to you. Red, white, black, and blue. But would you love me then? If I strip bare and let you in?

"If I knew that my made-up fears... Would cause my loved one tears. I'd tell you everything this day. To keep your love from fading away."

She stared at him, her lips parted slightly.

He pursed his lips, his chest heaving. "It's not polished at all. I don't like how the lengths are different--"

Her vision blurred as she whispered, "You wrote that for me?"

He shrugged. "Did you like it?"

She let out a shaky breath, smiling. "I loved it. Wow..."

He licked his lips, looking down.

"This was the best one so far," she said. "Thank you. Send it to me."

"Already did."

She moved forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned his face toward her and kissed her on the lips. When they parted, she sighed in bliss.

Seated in the same position again, she waited a few moments before asking, "Did you mean it?"

He stared at her. "Of course."

She gulped, her smile fading. "Who hurt your eye?"

His jaw locked, but he didn't look away. "You don't wanna know."

"You can't decide that. Tell me."

He sighed closing his eyes for a few seconds. "I did it."

She resisted the urge to react strongly and kept her tone casual as she said, "How?" Her heart banged against her chest.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

He shook his head, then looked at the sky for a moment and said, "I wanted to feel the pain somewhere else."

She stayed silent, lost for words. She couldn't decide how she felt or what his words meant.

He gulped and looked at her again, his face frowning as he said, "Giselle, would you choose to stay if I confessed something?"

She nodded.

"It's not something you'd like hearing. I've done terrible things."

She smiled and reached out to place her hand on his arm. "I'll stay."

Vulnerability didn't scare her. It didn't matter to her what he'd done in the past, as long as he knew the path ahead and the difference between right and wrong, she didn't care what his past circumstances made him do.

He gulped. "What if I tell you that you're not safe with me?"

Her eyebrows merged at his words. "Stop acting like one of those main characters from the overdone trope in cliché books, where they end up being incredible, all the while underestimating themselves. Like, I don't know, Edward Cullen."

His face scrunched up in confusion.

Giselle cringed. "You're not a vampire, are you?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You know... The morally-grey trope." Stop rambling, idiot! He's not Chris who gets all your lame jokes. "No? Oh, never mind."

He stayed silent, waiting for her to respond to his earlier question.

She heaved a sigh, "I know I'm safe with you, Xav."

He shook his head. "I'm telling you that you're not. I'm not a prince from one of the books you read."

She sighed again and sat cross-legged, facing him. "First of all, I'm not into reading kids' fairytales, so my line between good and evil is pretty blurred. Second, who told you that I even wanted a prince? Maybe I wanted a warrior. Maybe I wanted a knight. Maybe I wanted someone, prince or not, who would treat me as his princess."

"What if the guy who treats you as a princess is a man wearing a black cape?"

She rolled her eyes. "Like a Dracula?"

He looked away, shaking his head. "Forget I said anything."

She stifled a laugh. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Hey..."

He looked at her with red brimming his brown eyes. He said, "I'm serious. What if I was a villain?"

She grimaced. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "If you can't get a hint, I'm not wasting any more time."

She closed her eyes and exhaled, pushing back the retort she wanted to throw at him. "You scare me sometimes."

He leaned in, placed his hands on her shoulders, and held her firmly. "I'm not asking for you to leave me. I can't live with that. Just don't ask me questions that have the power to break your heart."

She clenched her teeth. "And how would I know what these mysterious and powerful questions are?"

He stared at her, then glanced over her head, left her shoulders, and looked away. "What is it?"

"Wha--"

"Sean's looking for you."

Giselle jumped at a stranger's voice that came from a few feet behind her. She looked back at the man who gave her a boyish nod as if he knew her. Her heart sank at his attire; black leather.

"Fine. I'll see him tonight. And tell him to use his phone next time."

Giselle turned back toward Xavier who stared at the sky ahead that bore the last light of the day as if nothing had happened.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and warmth crawled up to her cheeks. Was he one of the men terrorizing Petrichor? The clothes, the people he hung out with, and the multiple mentions of that man...

"Who is Sean?" Her voice was steady.

Xavier's surprised eyes scanned her face, and then the corner of his lips twitched upward.

"Have I told you a joke?" she snapped.

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes stung. "I'm tired! It's like I've talked to an entirely different person these past two years. You don't treat me like you love me, Xav. You write me a poem about how you'd do anything for my happiness but refuse to answer my question with a straight answer.

"Who are these people coming up to you all the time? Why did you say you were the man in the black cape? Who the hell are Ashley and Sean?"

He licked his lips. "It doesn't matter, okay?"

"It matters to me!"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Drop it, Giselle, it's not important."

"It is important, and don't tell me what to do!" She got up on her feet. "Either you tell me exactly what I'm asking you without filters, or I'll walk away." She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "Whenever I'm with you, I feel like you're hiding something from me. Maybe Chris was right. I don't know you at all."

He stood up, too. She blinked several times to keep the wetness at bay.

Her voice shook. "You make me feel like I've made a mistake. And I understand that there might be things you're uncomfortable sharing, and I get it. But I don't like being called a plaything, or why this Sean guy keeps summoning you when he's got a reputation of a gang leader, or the mention of Ashley who can, apparently, kill for you.

"You say that I'm not safe with you and then refuse to explain. Either you communicate with me clearly or I leave. No games!"

She'd never seen such panic in his eyes before. He opened his mouth, then closed it and gulped. He moved to reach for her but she backed away.

He said, "Giselle, listen. You're blowing this out of proportion."

"Excuse me? You don't get to blame me for looking out for myself. You don't get to tell me how to feel!" She folded her arms, hating every second of this.

He ran a hand through his hair. "What do you want me to say?"

"You know exactly what I'm asking so please don't drag this out more than necessary. What's missing between us? What aren't you telling me?" A tear fell on her cheek and she wiped it away angrily.

He closed his eyes. "I don't wanna hurt you."

She sighed. "I don't need empty words."

He looked at her and raised his hands in surrender. "Giselle, I don't want to hurt you."

"That's not an answer to my question!"

He shook his head. "I don't want you to leave me..."

Frustrated, she ran a hand over her face, then said, "I will if you don't tell me!"

"You will, especially after I tell you." His chest started heaving.

She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "These are all just excuses. You don't love me." Her lower lip quivered. "I'm so stupid."

He looked at her with more emotions than she'd ever seen on him as he said, "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, Giselle. I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving. Don't make me do this. I don't wanna lose you."

She panted. "Then tell me."

His face scrunched in agony and he shook his head.

She nodded, the pain of their relationship ending pooled in her eyes. "Fine."

She turned on her heels to walk away, and took only three steps before Xavier wrapped her in his arms from behind and said, "Wait."

She let out a shaky breath as his chest pressed against her back. His right arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders and left around her waist.

She said, "Tell me the truth." Please prove my suspicions wrong.

He waited a few seconds, then said against her temple, "I'm an assassin."

She froze, her eyes widening. "A what?"

She heard him gulp. "An assassin."

A shiver crawled down her spine. "For the government?" He stayed silent, so she asked, "Then?"

"For the gang Wrath."

She gulped down the bile that rose to her throat. How could she ignore the signs?

Unable to make a decision, she stood bound in his arms as the darkness of the night spread around them. Her head felt lighter as her breathing got heavy, and a panic attack hit her.

He pleaded in her ear when she said nothing, holding her tighter with his shaking arms, "Please don't leave." He nestled his face in her hair. "Please, please, please."

Her breaths came short. "I need to breathe."

He held her tighter. "You said you'd stay."

She writhed in his arms. "Let go! I can't breathe."

"No, no, please!"

"I won't leave... Just... Let me... Go..." She choked on the air, starting to see dark spots.

As soon as he loosened the grip around her, her legs wobbled and she fell on all fours, wheezing.

He was in front of her in an instant. "Giselle?"

Nauseated, she looked up at him crouching before her, his face haunted. A killer.

She gasped for air.

She could see him holding a bloody knife over a dead body at the back of her head. A killer.

Unaware of how long she tried to calm herself, she kept her eyes on his face. He stared back as if he'd seen a ghost. Once her breathing calmed a little, she sat on the floor, her body weak and aching. He made no move to hold her.

She said, "I wanna go home." Before he opened his mouth to say something, she continued, "Please. I'll see you soon. I promise. I'm not leaving you. I just need to go home for a while."

He blinked a few times, then lowered his head. "You said you'd stay."

"I will keep my promise. Do you trust me?"

He looked at her and exhaled in defeat as if he didn't trust her at all, but said, "Yes. And do you trust me?"

She waited a moment, then nodded sincerely. "I'll see you in a couple of days. Okay?"

He pursed his lips and blinked. Once she was sure she could stand, Giselle got to her feet and walked away, feeling his eyes on her back till she was out of his sight.