First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 423: Late Night Knock

Xavier was in his room messing with the phone settings when the knock came.

He opened the door halfway and found Arlen standing there, no jacket, hair loose, expression tight like she’d rehearsed this and still didn’t like how it sounded in her head.

"What happened?" he asked.

She took a breath first. "I know this is going to sound selfish. And rushed. And probably desperate." She looked past him into the room, then back at his face. "But could we... do it tonight?"

Xavier didn’t pretend he didn’t understand. He opened the door fully and stepped aside. "Come in."

Arlen hesitated for a second, then walked in and sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting on her thighs like she didn’t know where else to put them. She didn’t look confident now. Not like she had in the prison. Not like someone who’d just walked through gunfire without blinking.

Xavier closed the door and leaned against it. "You’re acting shy."

She let out a short, nervous laugh. "I am."

"You’re the one who wanted this," he said. "You were very clear about that."

"I know," Arlen replied. "That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be nervous."

He tilted his head. "First time?"

"Yes." She nodded. "It’s my first time. First time with someone who could crush a city block if he got annoyed." She looked up at him. "You’re not exactly helping."

"You’re acting like this is just... normal."

"For me," he said, "it kind of is."

She shook her head. "That’s unfair."

He shrugged slightly. "I’m not here to scare you. If you want to slow down, we slow down. If you want to stop, we stop. You came here because you wanted to, not because you owe me anything."

That made her look at him differently.

"Then why are you so calm," she asked.

"Because I’m not confused about what I want," Xavier replied. "And I’m not pretending this is anything other than what it is."

Arlen exhaled, shoulders loosening just a bit. "You’re really not going to make this awkward, are you."

He gave a faint smirk. "Only if you ask me to."

She looked at him for a long moment, then shifted closer on the bed, still cautious but not backing away.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Then don’t."

Xavier reached out, slow enough that she could pull back if she wanted, and brushed his fingers against her hand. "Then sit. Breathe. We’ve got the whole night."

Xavier stayed where he was, close enough to feel her breathing change but not crowding her.

He lifted a hand and gestured vaguely toward his face. "Before this goes anywhere," he said, voice steady, "you sure you’re fine with... this?"

Arlen followed the motion and didn’t look away. "With what?"

"With me looking like I crawled out of a wreck," Xavier replied. "Messy face, busted nerves, half-healed shit. I’m not exactly easy on the eyes right now."

She frowned, not in disgust but in disbelief. "That’s what you’re worried about?"

"It’s a fair question," he said. "Most people don’t want that in their face when things get close."

Arlen shook her head and shifted on the bed so she was facing him properly. "First of all, I’ve seen worse. Second, we’re going to get that fixed."

He raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"When we get to Helior Prime," she said. "Upper metropolis. Clean money, dirty miracles. They’ve got bio-surgeons, neural crafters, and skin-weave artists. People who rebuild faces after reactor accidents and make them look better than before. Your kind of damage isn’t even impressive to them."

Xavier stared at her for a moment. "You’ve thought about this."

"Yes," she said simply. "Because I don’t like seeing you like that."

That made him pause. "Why are you doing all this," he asked. "This isn’t your mess. You don’t gain anything from it."

She laughed quietly. "That’s where you’re wrong."

She hesitated for a second, then sighed like she was tired of holding it in. "I’m your biggest fan. I’ve watched every stream you didn’t delete. Every archive someone tried to wipe. I was there during the Starfall Arena event."

Xavier blinked. "That was chaos. There were a million players."

"I know," Arlen said. "I participated in the second event mode. Support track. I was running interference and logistics. You wouldn’t have noticed me directly, but I helped. A lot."

He leaned back slightly. "There were too many names. I only remember the top scorers. The ones who stood out."

She smiled, not offended. "I didn’t expect you to remember me. That’s not why I did it."

He looked at her more carefully now, connecting things he hadn’t bothered connecting before. "So this isn’t just impulse."

"No," Arlen replied. "This is me finally being in the same place as you and deciding not to waste the chance."

"Alright," he said. "Then don’t make it weird."

She smiled back, small and real. "I was going to say the same thing."

He smiled faintly, the kind that softened his whole face. "That’s fair."

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. The touch made her eyes flutter closed for a second. When she opened them, he was still watching her, patient, almost careful. He wasn’t performing anything. He was just there.

"Can I?" he asked.

She nodded again, slower this time.

He leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t practiced or smooth—it felt real, a little rough, a little unsure. She let out a small sound in her throat, surprised by how easily she leaned into it.

When he pulled back, her breathing had gone shallow.

"Still okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. Her voice was barely there. "Keep going."

He kissed her again, deeper, his hand finding her waist. Her fingers gripped his shirt, needing something to hold onto. Every nerve in her body felt wide open, aware of everything—the heat of his skin, the creak of the mattress, the way her heartbeat stuttered every time he breathed against her.

He exhaled softly, brushing his thumb over her lower lip, then leaned in again. His lips traced the line of her neck, a quiet, wordless promise that made her knees weak. She let out a low, involuntary sound and closed her eyes, giving in to it.

"You okay?" he asked, voice rough, not trying to soften it.

She nodded, then shook her head, then laughed under her breath because nothing about her body felt steady. "I don’t know," she said. "I mean... I want this. I just don’t know what I’m doing."

"That’s fine," he said. "We’re not racing anyone."

She swallowed and shifted closer, her thigh brushing his, the contact sending a jolt through her that made her freeze again. He felt it, the tension running through her, the way her muscles stayed tight like she was bracing for impact.

"You can tell me to stop," he said. "Any second."

"I won’t," she said, a little too fast, then slower. "I don’t want you to."

When he touched her under the clothes, she gasped and broke the kiss. Her hands clutched at the sheets as if she needed something to hold onto.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Is it supposed to feel like that?"

He smiled against her neck. "It’s supposed to feel like whatever it feels like for you."

She let him undress her. Her cheeks flushed, her gaze flicking away and then back again, curiosity winning over nerves every time. When he finally lay between her legs, she went still again, breath caught high in her chest.

"Xavier," she said, using his name like an anchor. "I’ve never..."

"I know," he said. "Look at me."

She did. His face was right there, damaged and honest and unhidden, and he didn’t turn away. That mattered more to her than she expected.

"I’m here," he said. "You’re safe."