It's too windy.

A slender hand reached up to grip the fabric of a thick scarf. The cotton was a familiar, and he rubbed it between his fingers. The nearby tree tops were lurching, whipping back and forth like the tail of a happy dog. Peering at the tall pines, he watched them dance. It seemed as if they were trying to warn others away, daring them not to get any closer by their aggressive shaking. His gaze shifted upwards, landing on the dark, rolling clouds that tumbled across the sky like wild horses. They roared, making the earth beneath them tremble. Knuckles turned pale as trembling fingers clung to the scarf, as if the savage wind would rip it away from him. It was already battling with his hair, ruffling the dark brown tresses in all directions. His bangs lashed across his forehead.

In the face of a thunderstorm, most people would watch from the protection of their homes, peeking behind thick glass in the comfort of their walls. As a child, he remembered staring at them from the little window he had carved out of his bedroom wall. He would feel the racing winds and piercing rain streak through the open gap, and he loved it. It felt like he was in the presence of an ancient force of power, only something a god should have.
At the moment, there was nothing between him and Mother Nature’s beast. It roared at him once more; he could feel its threatening cry pound throughout his body. His thin lips parted, a soft gasp escaping. He remained calm, watching it with an unfazed gaze that regarded the looming darkness with wonder.

Something splattered on his cheek, just missing his lower lashes. Then another grazed his neck. Then there were hundreds of them, then thousands, just all at once. The storm shattered the sky with a screaming bolt of lightning. The flash of raw energy lit up the thunderstorm, illuminating thousands of shards of glass twinkling as they pelted towards the ground, just to plummet to their end. Their death was soothing, for the pitter pattering of their collisions became one of earth’s most natural instruments. The drumming rhythm of the rain pellets vibrated through him, each drop sending a ripple across his skin as it made contact. Closing his eyes, he tilted his face to the beast in the sky. Raindrops splashed against his lips, and his tongue slid out to taste the purity of them. Nostrils flaring, he took in the homely smell of fresh water, earth, and grass. This was true beauty, in its rawest form. He was so transfixed by the magnificence of it all that he no longer noticed the wind.

Just as quickly as it had started, the powerful rumbling of the thunder began to weaken into grumbles. The dying away of the storm caused him to open his eyes once more. The gray clouds were literally rolling back to where they had come from, slowly turning back to their original pristine white color. The rain was also disappearing, vanishing into sprinkles and then a few drops. In a few more seconds, the sky was a bright blue, with perfect puffy clouds. The trees were sturdy and still, inviting the birds back to their homes. The only thing giving away that a storm had ever existed was the wet ground, and the soaked seventeen year old boy standing mesmerized in the yard of a school.

Dropping his face from the perfectly sunny sky, he relaxed the fierce grip that he had had on the scarf around his neck Letting his hand fall to his side, he glanced own at the other. Droplets of rain slid down his cheek, dripping down towards the notebook held firmly between his fingers. Beneath the soggy wrinkles, a thunderstorm could be made out on the paper’s surface.

A smile tugged at the edges of his thin lips.

~~~

The inside of the school was humming with activity, but it was dead silent.

Xavier’s clothes dripped as he walked. He swept his gaze over the familiar faces of his fellow students. The university he was at was a safe haven for special individuals. It was a shelter for all walks of like. He had seen people turn into animals, he had seen others control the very air around him, and he had seen even more bizarre things. This place welcomed all those with supernatural abilities, whether they were born with those abilities or forced to have them through cruel experimentations. There was no judgement here.

Coming to a stop in front a large open area, Xavier leaned a soggy shoulder against a nearby pillar. The common area was vibrating with energy. The school was taking in a new round of people, most likely kids off of the streets. Only about half of them would choose to stay here. The other half would find a way to escape and return to the streets in which they were plucked from. He found it ironic that the ones without homes in the first place were the first to want to go back to their homeless living. Being street-bound himself, he could understand their urge to return to where they had come from, to crawl back into their pit of darkness to disappear from the world. Digging them out from under their rocks was a shock to their system, an invasion of sorts. Of course, they were too naïve to understand that the university was looking out for them.

Shoot, I forgot that I was getting reassigned today.

Peeling away from the wall, the boy made his way through the thrum of people. He was looking for one face, and he knew he was here. He always was.

As if on que, he spotted the tall man talking to someone. He had blonde hair that was nicely slicked back, framing his angular face. Eyes of steel flashed with unexpected kindness, and his wide smile was always the most amusing part. Two glimmering canines glistened underneath his parted lips. Xavier couldn’t help but feel his own mouth curl.

Walking up the lanky man, he watched him say farewell to a small kid being escorted by one of the university mothers. The pale man waved a friendly goodbye before turning around to spot Xavier.

“X!” A surprised hiss escaped past the man’s teeth. “You are utterly drenched! What in the hells have you been up to?”

Eyes twinkling, the teen held up the soaked notebook, allowing the vampire to see the wet image.

“Ah, that explains it. A rainstorm could be quite inconvenient for most of these newcomers. Did you forget that most of them come here with only the clothes on their backs?”

Arching a brow, Xavier lifted his right hand, turning it out to face the man. Dangling around the slim wrist was a bracelet with a large bead on it that read “YES.”

“Well, I guess it did no harm, since you seem to be the only one wet.” Xavier released an content sigh. Almost as if hit by another train of thought, the vampire’s gray eyes sparkled. “Oh, you are being reassigned today, are you not? Follow me, follow me! I get the honors of showing you to your new room!” The man spun on his heels and began walking through the sea of people. Xavier found it alluring that he could somehow split the crowd like the red sea, without even touching them. He followed the path the vampire made and was lead down a few corridors towards one of the university’s dormitory wings.

“Ah, here we are!” The man stopped in front of an oak door and pulled out a humongous set of keys. Shifting through them with ungodly speed, he finally stopped at a bronze plated key. Yanking it off of the chain, he slid it into the door and jiggled the handle.

“Welcome to 304, your new home!”

As the door swung open, Xavier stepped into the room. The vampire followed suit, talking up the room as if he were a real estate agent. The room smelled like fresh paint. The walls were so bare, but it was intriguing. Now he had a clean slate that he could rearrange his many art pieces on. Glancing at the bed, Xavier noticed his patchy suitcase at the foot of the frame. Flicking his eyes further left, and he noticed a second bed. His brow bent worriedly. He’d been in a room by himself until now.

“It is actually larger than your old room, how about that?” Noticing where Xavier was looking, he released an amused chuckle. “Due to the growing population of the school, we can no longer promise single rooms until we know for a fact that we have enough room. You will have to be okay with a roommate for now.”

Looking back towards the blonde, Xavier signaled to the other bed with a nod, lifting his brows in an inquiring manner.

“I do not know who will be rooming with you yet. All I know is that this is your key," the vampire stated, holding out the bronze key, "and that its pair will belong to whoever owns that bed.”

Xavier hesitantly took the key and looked back towards the made bed, its covers neatly folded to signal its vacancy. He released a soft sigh. If only that were true.

The rain pierced the ground with sharp and furious precision, drenching the ashen concrete with disgusting, murky water. A single car was pulled up in front of the large, seemingly vacant school, its architecture standing tall with a single tower at the head, and a court yard splitting the middle in what could be a perfect square, had one of the wings not been remodeled the year before. The vehicle was slick and clean, tinted windows revealing nothing of what was hidden inside and raven exterior reflecting passersby like a perfect little car-shaped mirror.

For a few moments it seemed as though the car was empty, sitting still with the lights off, no noise or movement or any signs of life to be heard or seen. However, when the relentless shower ceased and the sky grew clear again, a single figure exited the car, dressed in an entirely black suit with a frighteningly bulky build. He looked like a hit man, which is essentially what he was. He glided around the vehile's long frame, opening it and not missing a single beat as he lowered his head, arm outstretched as if beckoning whoever was inside to exit.

And he did, crimson red hair piercing the dull, monochrome colors of the scenery around him as he stepped out, the water at his boot-ladden feet rising in wisps of steam, as if burned immediately by his touch. He gave a dismissive wave in the direction of the suited man when they exchanged brief, incoherent conversation, and soon the man disappeared inside the vehicle again, leaving the boy who had exited to his own devices.

He drew in a breath, then let it escape in a stream of heated air, hands stuffed carelessly in his pockets and an eerily satisfied smile on his face.

"This'll be fun."

♆♆♆

Hushed whispers filled the halls as a single boy walked past, scorching the floor underfoot without a care in the world. He didn't look back or around himself, simply staring straight ahead with intense concentration. He apparently had to share a room with another student, even after threatening to stuff the headmaster's throat with burning cigarettes. His father had, much to his surprise, reprimanded him for doing so. Evidently, this school was even more powerful than his family "business".

He finally arrived at his designated room, just in time to see a shockingly tall and blonde make exit the dorm. God, he hoped that wasn't the one he would be sharing a room with. He was too much of a pretty boy; it made him sick to his stomach.

He opened the door and slammed it shut behind himself, cat-like gaze immediately settling on the pitiful figure before him. He had no fashion sense, that was for sure. A long coat and a scarf covering his face, his eyes covering even more. The kid looked like he would just end up pissing him off, and he hadn't even said anything yet.

After a long while spent sizing his apparent roommate up, Jin finally spoke. "Get near my side of the room and I'll burn you to death."

Xavier hadn’t noticed that the blonde had disappeared and another person had appeared. He was deaf, so all he could hear was silence. Still staring at the other bed, he contemplated who was going to be sharing a room with him. Maybe it was a shapeshifter. How fascinating would that be? His hopes were lifted a bit at the thought. Little did he know that the person had already made quite a heated entrance.

Turning around, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a teenage guy standing near him. He hated not being able to tell when people were near him. After being unable to hear, you’d think he could detect the presence of others and practically feel the change of energy in the air around him. However, he had not acquired that lovely ability, thus he was quite oblivious to other people being close by.

The first thing his eyes went to was the striking red hair. It looked like flames dancing a top of the guy’s head. Xavier blinked. Was this his roommate?

Assuming so, the teen unwound his damp scarf from around his neck and hung it off of his nearby desk chair, doing the same to his equally damp coat. He knelt down by his ratted suitcase, unzipping one of the front pockets to pull out a clean and not wet notebook. Swiping a pen as well, he thumbed to a clean page and scribbled down a message.

Looking back up towards the other teen, he held out the little notepad, offering a cautious smile.

Hi! My name is Xavier. Are you my roommate?

He was visibly annoyed by the lack of a response, obviously not used to being so rudely ignored. He had no idea the boy in front of him was deaf, and perhaps he would have cut him a little slack if he did, but that wasn't likely. He'd been raised with the understanding that if they didn't listen, no matter the handicap, they didn't deserve to be dealt with.

He repeated himself numerous times, followed by a series of "hello?"s and "hey, listen"s. He was ready to give up and just burn the kid to death despite the consequences that would surely follow when he finally looked up, seeming irritatingly surprised by the fact that he was there.

"I've been standing here for ages," he growled, the flooring under his feet scorching loudly and sending streams of smoke into the air. Of course, the kid apparently didn't hear him, or just wasn't listening at all. Either way, he was just pissing him off more and more as time passed.

He watched with little interest as the kid pulled out a large, blank notebook, pen scratching across the paper as he wrote something he could honestly care less about. He was already thinking about threatening the headmaster again, maybe causing a bit of trouble to force the idiot to put him in a solitary room. If all the kids in this godforsaken school were so boring, he'd rather not stay here.

He was already sitting on his bed, leaving a patch of burnt tile at the doorway, when the kid turned the book around, revealing a small, neatly-written sentence. He raised a brow.

"Just tell me your damn name out loud. I'm not deaf," he muttered, not bothering with the second question. Wasn't it obvious? Why would he be wasting his time here if he wasn't? "I'm Jin. And apparently I'm stuck with your sorry ass for the rest of the year."

Xavier hadn’t even noticed the smell of smoke lingering in the air. Once it hit them though, he became more aware of the person before him. If he wasn’t smoking a cigarette, where was the smoke coming from? Glancing around, his eyes caught the dark patches on the floor. His eyebrows rose in alarm; the very wood was scorched to a crisp. Feeling a bead of sweat form, he warily glanced back towards the other boy. Now he understood his hair’s resemblance to fire. He swallowed.

The other teen looked at him with an annoyed expression and began talking. Xavier’s gaze shot immediately to his lips. Watching someone’s mouth was essential to being able to tell what they were saying. Because he didn’t know this other kid well enough yet, he could rely on facial expression to help him decipher what was being said, for everyone expressed things differently.. Luckily, he was able to catch every word, even though some were unpleasant. It didn’t bother him, at least not near as severely as it would have years ago. He had been bullied so much that he had grown a set accustomed to hostile words. These sneers of his roommate weren’t anything new

Releasing a soft sigh, he quickly scribbled out a response. His cerulean eyes watched his pencil write out what we couldn’t say. After finishing the last sentence he turned the notebook back towards the other kid and lifted his gaze, watching his face.

I can’t speak. Sorry, but you will have to bear with these written messages.

And it’s nice to meet you, Jin.

Fiery gaze locked on the other boy, who was apparently mute or just didn't give a shit, Jin smiled. He could see the kid, Xavior apparently, looking worriedly at the burnt floor, then back at him. The expression he wore was more than enough to make him smirk on satisfaction. He may have been twisted for enjoying the fear of others, but it was a necessity for those in his own particular family business.

"Right, so..." he said, slowly, only to be cut off as his roommate lifted his pen again, dragging it smoothly across the paper to give him another silent message. He'd never spoken to anyone like this, it was so aggravatingly slow that he felt like melting into the mattress right then and there. Didn't the kid have a phone or something? Even texting the messages would be faster than this old fashioned paper-and-pen method.

When the page was lifted, he leaned forward to read the small handwriting, then sat back again. Not only was it slow, but this was a seriously dull conversation. There was nothing interesting about it, nothing he could say in response to make it move quicker. How come Xavior didn't talk, anyway? Now that he had his scarf off, he could see no discernible scars or anything of the sort that might be related to a vocal wound. He seemed perfectly capable of talking, unless his throat was malformed or something.

"Right, yeah. A pleasure." He rolled his eyes, leaning to rest his chin on his palm. "Can you not write faster, by the way? Or, I dunno, just talk like a normal fuckin' person?"

Once more he watched the other’s mouth, this time taking his face into consideration. Man, this guy was pretty unpleasant. The only expressions his face seemed to make so far were ugly ones; scowls, frowns, and other grimaces. Always unamused. Even if he was this unkind, Xavier could not judge him; he barely knew him. He knew nothing of this guy’s past or anything. All he could deduce within the past few minutes was that he looked and acted like fire, and apparently had quite a close relationship with the real thing. His eyes found the nearby scars in the floor again. They stood out from the original light color of the wood, like warnings of some sort.

Sighing softly, he lifted his left hand to answer the boy’s first question in regards to his writing speed. The bracelet hanging from his wrist had a large bead with white bold letters on the front that spelled “NO”. It was obvious what the one on his right wrist said.

In response to the other question, however, Xavier hesitated. As a kid, even though he was deaf, he did speak. He could right now, if he really wanted to. That was thing, though; he didn’t want to. Years of bullying and annoyed looks from other people made him feel like a freak, made him feel like he didn’t belong. So, he just decided not to talk one day. He hadn’t actually planned for it to last this long, be he found comfort in not speaking. Sure, some people got too impatient to wait for his replies and left the conversation before he could finish what he was writing. He taught himself to write as quickly as he could while still making the words legible, but sometimes it was still not fast enough. This situation was an example of that.

Scribbling a quick response on the paper, he turned it back towards him.

I told you, I can’t talk. This is my only way of communication.

He was getting more and more irritated by the minute, fingers tapping quickly against his cheek and leg bouncing against the wooden flooring impatiently. God, this was going so slowly. He could be doing so many things right now; flirting, getting drunk, threatening random kids on campus, maybe even bribing some students to join up with him. Definitely not spending his time talking so achingly slowly with this "Xavior" kid, who was turning out to be even more dull and boring than he had thought.

The kid reminded him of water. He couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling, his expression completely indifferent and his eyes as clear a blue as the sea. Hell, he might've even hooked up with him in different circumstances. Part of him even wanted to mess with the kid, make that transparent personality completely opaque and force him to open up every little dirty secret he had balled up inside of that mute little mouth. Dark thoughts, yes, but they were honest wishes.

He was so enraptured in his own, somewhat perverse thoughts that he didn't notice Xavior pull up his notebook again, revealing yet another sentence, short and sweet. "You can't talk or you don't want to?" he asked, words coming out as more of a growl than anything else. He couldn't help his animalistic tendencies; it came with the demonic bloodline.

Honestly, he was beginning to wonder whether or not he really should get the kid a phone. He had plenty of money, and it would be much faster to go back and forth via email or texting rather than using pencil and paper. And there was always the plus side of possibly getting Xavior to become entirely dependent on him. Having a little duckling, as he liked to call it, was always fun.

Xavier’s lips tightened. That wasn’t a question he was ready to answer, and that answer was certainly not something Jin had earned. Brow furrowed, he scribbled another message on the pad before dropping it on the bed beside the fiery teen, signaling the end of their conversation.

I. Can’t. Talk.

Slightly irritated, he turned and knelt back down beside his suitcase, opening the main compartment to get to his belongings. It wasn’t like he had many things; between living in a house with atrocious parents and not living in a house at all, he really didn’t have much to his name. The very clothes he was wearing were things he had come off of the street with. The long-sleeve shirt he was currently dressed in was made of tattered wool. Its age was apparent by the few holes in the collar and strays in the seams. His jeans were about as old as the shirt.

Picking up a manila folder, his gaze softened. He brushed his fingertips of the smooth surface and opened it. Several sheets of drawings were neatly stacked, waiting for their new place on his wall. Some of these drawings were also as old as the clothes on his back. He was fond of those memories.

Looking up, he noticed the sketchpad he had had with him earlier. He stood and walked over to the desk, gently placing the paper folder down just to pick up the wrinkled sketchpad. Lifting it up, he took in the disheveled look of the drawing. The sketched out thunderstorm was pretty convincing on paper, especially with it literally going through a storm to look like the way it did. He lifted a hand to his hair, feeling the ends. Some were still wet. Glancing down, he saw his small signature at the bottom of the image. He brushed a delicate thumb over it.

After another moment’s pause, he turned and went back to his suitcase, retrieving a package of thumbtacks. He shook the plastic container, releasing one into his smooth palm. If he was going to start putting up his artwork, why not start with the most recent one?

Lifting a hand to his face, Jin did his best to stifle a snort, amused by the kid's cute little outburst. With a baby face like he had, it was honestly hard to take him seriously. "What, you piss your pants or something?" he asked with a chuckle, though Xavior didn't seem to hear him, or just didn't care at all.

He sat there for awhile, watching his roommate with keen eyes and honest interest. He'd never been incredibly interested in the poor, seeing as they had nothing to do with him, but now that there was a boy covered in loose, tattered clothing sitting right in front of him, it was hard to ignore. Not only that, but the kid had more notebooks and pads and what have you than he'd ever seen. It looked like he'd bought out the entire art shop down the street. He was actually curious as to what he had drawn.

Finally deciding Xavior was taking way too long to put his drawings on the wall, admiring every little sketch he made like some obsessive freak, Jin pushed himself off of the bed and glided toward the other boy, leaning to look at the sketchbook in his hands. A lot of them were landscapes, thunderstorms and wide open fields, and he had to admit: the kid could fucking draw. They honestly looked like photographs, captured by the mind and printed out on paper with jet black ink. Now that he thought about it, that's exactly what they were.

"You should sell 'em," he suggested, not even sure if he had been noticed or not. By now, he was decently certain that Xavior was deaf, and that being paired with his mute speech... Well, it was going to be a painful year. "It'll get you some money, after all. You look like you could use it."

His words had likely come off as rude, as most of what he said did. He didn't exactly have the best social skills in the world, and whatever manners he had been taught he had long since abandoned. But it was an honest suggestion, and a real attempt at him trying to be nice. Key word being trying.

As he was turning back towards the desk, Xavier noticed the other teen push himself up off of the bed and walk his way. His eyes watched Jin carefully, unsure of what he was going to do. Knowing that this boy could be dangerous, and not just with his words, he couldn’t help but be instinctually cautious. It was just part of his nature. He took in the figure steadily approaching, and when the realization hit him, his body tensed. He naturally wanted to pull the sketchbook to him, pressing it against his chest in a way that he did while being on the streets to deter onlookers. However, he felt like if he did that to Jin, the boy would burn him to a crisp. Forcing himself that it was okay, he stayed perfectly still and allowed the teen to lean down, to see what he was holding. Flicking his gaze to the red head, his brow twitched as he realized that he was the shorter of the two.

Normally, Xavier liked to keep his drawings to himself, for they were the one thing that held significant value. They were printed memories of places he’d seen, people he’d found interesting. Of course, the majority of his drawings were landscapes; he had a weak spot for them. However, there were people in the pile, as well as a few other things.

Giving Jin another sideways glance, he spotted movement. Watching his lips, his expression immediately relaxed. He was actually surprised. Was this Jin’s way of being kind? Well, it helped his body release the anxious tension it had been holding. Xavier mentally scolded himself. He shouldn’t be judging books by their cover; he had no right to do such a thing.

To reply to his roommate’s comment, he simply shook his head. Since the teen was already too impatient to wait for his written words, there was no way he could explain everything without sending Jin into an enraged fury. In all honesty, he had tried to sell his artwork before. It did him good for a little while, until someone wanted to watch. Of course, this exposed the true art of his skills, and the person ended up wanting to take him in, to clean him up and show him around the world like a one trick pony. He hated that, so he went into hiding for a while; stayed in the alley ways and shadows of the city, until the interest in him died away. Afterwards, he reappeared only to sell artwork he had drawn in private.

Now, how would he tell that to Jin? He turned to look at his coat and scarf and got an idea. Reaching out, he pulled the scarf off the back of the chair. Feeling in between his fingers, he suddenly realized that his idea wouldn’t work. Well, it might have half an hour ago, but the scarf wasn’t as damp as it used to be. Reaching up, he touched his hair. The straight tresses were practically dry, as well. Not knowing what else to do, he simply lowered his hand and looked up at Jin, offering him a small but appreciative smile of gratitude.

As he neared the other boy, Jin could hear the beat of his heart picking up in what he recognized as fear, smelling the anxiety and discomfort in the air. He really was like water; by his expression, it was barely possible to tell what he was thinking, but getting closer provided plenty of information to be gathered. Of course, were anyone else in that situation, they likely wouldn't have been able to notice such small changes in the atmosphere. Being a hellish creature with heightened senses certainly had its up sides.

He watched Xavior for a moment, losing interest in the drawings rather quickly and instead focusing his attention on their creator. He seemed somewhat lost for words, or perhaps looking for a way to communicate them efficiently. He really was getting annoyed by the conversations between them, or rather lack there of. There was so little to be said, and so little said back, and he didn't have any patience to wait for the kid to write out whatever he wanted to talk about.

He finally pulled a phone out of his pocket, unlocking it with quick, efficient movements against the screen and tapping one of the many boxy apps listed on the home screen. Finally, he held out the phone, which had taken the form of an electronic notepad just waiting to have content typed into it. Hopefully this would be quicker, though he didn't imagine Xavior had much experience with technology. It might even end up slower.

Oh well. It would serve as a patience exercise. Which was something he certainly needed practice on.

Xavier’s brows lifted in curiosity as Jin reached into his pocket to retrieve something. When the teen pulled out a cellphone, his eyes slightly widened. He had witnessed several people walking around with these devices. Some of the people appeared so attached to them, as if they had grown a dependency on the electronic handhelds.

He watched the shiny object as Jin’s thumb swiped across the screen. It fascinated him that people could still walk efficiently while having their eyes glued to those little screens instead of watching where they were going. How did they see? Was the screen transparent?

When the boy turned the device his way, his blue gaze lit up. On the little screen was an open notepad that looked similar to his own. It was mesmerizing to see. Were these things actually that useful? His slender hands moved forward, fingers outstretched and itching to touch the thing that everyone so desperately clung to. Blinking, he snapped out of his transfixed state, causing his hands to hesitate. His fingers shrunk away from the phone, embarrassed. Xavier’s brow bent in uncertainty. Was Jin just going to hand it over to him like that? What if he messed it up? He knew nothing about these things, especially how they worked. What if he accidently dropped it? His heart fluttered. Jin would probably barbeque him if anything happened to his cellphone.

Glancing up warily at the red head, his blue gaze was swimming with doubt. Was Jin giving him his approval to take his belonging?

Jin stated at the raven-haired boy, unable to cover up a chuckle. God, he was funny. Just the blank expression plastered on his face was enough to make him laugh, though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing someone who looked to solemn and quiet make such a clueless face. Well, no matter the reason, it was nice knowing his roommate was amusing, even if he didn't talk.

He stood straight, his back a tad cramped from leaning over for so long and assuming Xavior was likely somewhat uncomfortable with his closeness, and waited patiently for the kid to take the phone. When he hesitated, he raised a brow and looked him over. Another sneer-like smile appeared on his face.

"Seriously, you're gonna get messed with if you act like such a fuckin' pushover," he said, though the words were meant playfully rather than spiteful. "Just take it. Even if something happens, I've got plenty of money to buy another one. Hell, if you're so worried about it I could even get you your own. I'm feeling generous today, seeing as you're a pretty funny guy. Think of it as thanks for making the school not suck as much as I thought it did."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd done something that wasn't entirely driven by selfish means. For some reason he felt sorry for the kid, almost putting himself in his shoes as he watched him struggle, clothes barely held together and sketchbook apparently the only thing he truly owned. What was it called, pity? Sympathy? Whatever it was, it wasn't something his father had taught him, which meant it wasn't something he needed when he took over the family business.

Well, whatever. No matter what it was, necessary to his future job or not, it wouldn't hurt to let it happen just this once.

To Xavier's complete surprise, Jin actually laughed. His gaze watched the other's face, taking in the wrinkles that formed near his eyes and the edges of his mouth that curled up, exposing the laughter as sincere amusement. Even though many people expressed things differently, there were some facial movements that all essentially represented the same thing. Xavier was relieved, but he hated not being able to hear it. What did the laughter of someone like Jin sound like?

As the teen started to speak, Xavier internally coiled up at Jin's teasing. He couldn't help that he was so passive. It wasn't like he'd never tried not to be, he just didn't like the person he became when he was like that. Watching his roommate continue to talk made him perk up. He was giving him the phone? That was...actually very nice of him.

Excitedly, Xavier reached for the phone a little more confidently this time and held it in his palms. His hands naturally cupped around the device, bringing his thumbs together near the lower part of the screen. He touched in and a keyboard appeared right beneath his fingertips. In complete awe, he tested out the buttons, taping one letter at a time. It was amazing. He could basically talk just by tapping. The corners of his lips twitched, his eyes wide and childlike.

After testing out a few sentences, he realized he didn't thank Jin. As quickly as he could as not to frustrate his roommate any more than he probably already had, he typed up a few quick notes and turned the phone around, a sheepish yet happy grin on his face.

This is amazing. It's so much faster than writing.
Thank you, really.