Otter Creek I'll [m]ake your timber shiver

Xan felt conflicted, his arrogance telling him to leave without so much as another word, whilst his body longed for him to stay. Though he'd never admit to it aloud, the other held some sort of an effect over him, as was discovered the moment he'd smiled. It was unlike the time in which he'd tried so hard to get Kendra to smile, the tightening of his chest having been a different sort than what he'd recalled feeling so long ago. "I'm not mad," he'd muttered, albeit a bit begrudgingly. It wasn't anger that he felt, per se, but some degree of irritation and, as always, confusion. There was a war raging on within him, two sides of him that wanted opposing things. It had been unclear from the very beginning which faction would prove to be triumphant over the over, his conscious having cared little about offering its support to either. And though very, very deep down in however small of a heart he had he knew that he couldn't live with himself if he'd just up and left, the steadily beating organ was not permitted to weigh in, either.

Ears pushed forward and head tilted slightly, listening to his words and then responding with a shake of his head. "I didn't say that," he'd noted, shifting his weight in the process. "Do you want to follow me? Live with me?" The questions were serious ones, as was his expression. Slowly, one side of the grand battle was beginning to prevail, and while he was loathe to admit it just yet, he'd found himself somewhat happy about that. The idea of hiding a stranger away within his home, of keeping for himself a secret that no one else was welcomed to learn of; it was something that could very well result in him getting into a great deal of trouble, and yet, he didn't care.