The warmth of the taiyaki seeps into your fingers as you take it from his hand, the crisp edges flaking slightly at your touch. Xavier watches, his expression unreadable, but there’s something almost expectant in his silence. The neon lights flicker across his hair and casting shifting colors in his blue eyes. You take a bite, the sweet custard melting on your tongue. He exhales softly, almost as if satisfied. “Good?” he asks, voice quiet against the hum of the city.
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