19. Tyrxie
Chapter 19
Tyrxie
Broken
“ V oiding borack shite!” Xandor exclaims, rubbing the top of his head. “Who builds an abode with such low ceilings?” He grimaces, scanning the room. “I can’t even stand in here. Voiding short-stuffs!”
I giggle, despite the lingering haze of pleasure. “Welcome to Nebian architecture,” I say, still catching my breath. “They’re not built for handsome giants.”
Xandor’s scowl softens as he looks at me, a mixture of amusement and frustration in his gaze. “Or they are, but it’s geared towards cruel and unusual punishment,” he replies, bending awkwardly to avoid hitting his head again. “How did they even fit me in here?”
“I know a place you can fit.” I smirk at him, my greedy eyes traveling downward, longing to feel him inside me, for him to fill me. A flash of disappointment hits me, seeing him flaccid. “Oh no. Your cock’s turned small.” I wince, bringing a hand to my mouth, trying to stuff my careless words back in.
“Small?” Xandor snaps, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Small!” He repeats, taking his monstrous member in his hand and rotating it like a turbine in an engine. I gulp at the mesmerizing and intimidating spectacle. “A bold choice of words for one so small and pure. Perhaps I’ve been too gentle with you, underestimating your depths.” He flashes a wicked smile at me.
Void, I’m in trouble now.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” I plead as Xandor approaches, still swinging his massive, ominous member, his presence filling the room, making it feel smaller and warmer. “Maybe I can heal it for you?” I offer, my hands glowing green as I channel my emotions.
“You can’t heal perfection,” Xandor laughs, stopping mere inches from me, his cock dangling near my face, making me blush deeper. “You’ve wounded his ego deeply. I’m afraid there’s only one thing that can be done now.” He shakes his head, lamenting, yet I detect the comical treachery underneath.
His?
“Tell me. I’ll do anything.” I play along, enjoying the silliness, glancing at my looming hunched-over male, seeing the mischievous glint in his eye.
“Kiss it better.” Xandor’s words hang in the air as heavy as his thick member, his bold words taking my breath away.
The naughty idea sends a thrill through me, as I involuntarily lick my lips, imagining how it would feel in my mouth. “Kiss it, like how you kiss me below?” I repeat, my eyes lingering at his inviting male-hood.
“Exactly. I’m afraid it’s the only path left. All others are fading fast,” Xandor retorts, feigning a dramatic sigh and restrained laughter.
I let out a short laugh, grasping his soft cock in my two hands. “Well, if it’s that serious,” I say, stroking and planting a little kiss on the gleaming crimson tip. Xandor lets out a delightful moan, sending a thrill of excitement pulsing through me. I gasp, marveling at the throbbing surge of his member, forcing my hands open wider, becoming thick and hard like arcweave.
“Divine,” Xandor groans, but I’m already focused on driving my male wild, not really knowing what I’m doing, just stroking and kissing along his massive shaft. I let his wonderful grunts and snarls guide me like a sexy space buoy in a sea of delights.
His engorged bumpy head glistens and pulses rowdily as the heat pools within me, causing my breath to hitch. I lick around the thick end before taking the plunge, trying to wrap my tiny mouth around his mass of scorching meat. “Good female,” Xandor growls, placing his huge hand behind my head, greedily urging me deeper.
I yearn to be his good female, the way I yearn for him to mate my brains out. Delving deeper, his enormous tip fills my mouth in an instant. My eyes snap to Xandor, seeing a merciless lust in his expression craving to use me for his pleasures. The naughty sensation and thought sends surges of molten, feverish need coursing through me.
He holds my head in place and rocks his hips, forcing my mouth to take him. Back and forth, he rides upon my eager tongue. The taste of him arouses me further, sweet musky oils like the scent of him I crave distilled to delicious liquid form, mirroring my feminine need which pools below, growing hotter and hotter, burning for him to claim me.
Xandor must be of the same mind or he’s somehow sensing my desires as he pulls his pulsing erection out of my mouth, dripping with my saliva. I gasp for breaths that I didn’t know I was missing, staring at him flushed and wanton. His golden eye blazes hot, letting out wisps of desire as I open my legs, enjoying the hungry look it elicits.
“My sweet little Rebecca,” he purrs, as I gasp at the use of my true name, making me feel special, like it’s our secret alone. I pant with a dry throat as he guides me onto my knees with a firm hand, resting my arms upon the Nebian cushions. The sensation of his cock pressing against my slick femininity causes me to groan.
But my merciless male drives forward, my pussy stretching to accommodate his massive girth. I shudder and moan, burying my head further into the soft cushions, the only thing soft in his savage dance of carnality. Xandor grasps my black hair, pulling my head back, forcing me to confront the exquisite pain he’s causing.
“No more hiding,” Xandor whispers along my ear, thrusting deeper and deeper, his length seeming to never end, demanding more and more from my tensing, quivering body. I squeal and moan in delight with each scorching nanosecond.
Then, to my shock waves of orgasmic ecstasy, rock my body with cascading, shuddering intensity. I scream Xandor’s name as he drives forward finally, plunging his entire length through my shaking, pulsating wetness.
Xandor waits a few blissful moments, stroking my back, whispering how well I’ve done as I ride the torrent of throbbing delight. Just as my body ceases to tremble, I can feel Xandor’s cock twitching, straining my inner walls as it struggles to contain the beast deep within me.
He snarls and grunts, taking up a steady rhythm, pulling on my hip with greed, forcing me onto his thick length as he continues to impale me. The naughty sensation of him claiming me on my knees like some monstrous hungry beast causes me to moan and gasp, knowing that he’s mine and it’s me that’s driving him to such heights.
“Mate me, Xandor, make me yours,” I cry out as he pounds into me, filling my body, filling my mind. My words drive him onward into a frantic, punishing rhythm, causing me to groan louder, forcing my head down into the mercifully soft cushions. I can feel him on every level inside me, his breath on my back, his golden furious lust blazing within our bond that sharpens my every sense.
I could cry. This connection, this punishing pleasure, is so intense, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s like we’re two halves of the one soul, bringing out the best in each other, forcing each other to blaze in a glorious light.
“You are mine, forever eternally,” Xandor grunts, sounding half-mad, echoing my own thoughts. His hips buck wildly, reaching an incredible toe-curling, white-knuckle speed that sends another round of cascading waves of orgasmic ecstasy lancing through my hazy mind, exhausted from his ferocious lust.
I shudder and squirm as Xandor grips my hip harder, his thrusting reaching a fever pitch until he comes undone. He emits a deafening roar that the entire apartment must hear, lost in his carnal madness. His hips buck with lessening intensity as I still glow with bliss, enjoying the jets of his powerful seed spilling deep inside, filling me with his warmth.
Xandor withdraws from me, already I miss his closeness as I turn round. “I don’t want this to ever stop,” I say, suddenly overcome with emotion.
My panting, handsome male smiles, brushing the tears from my cheek. “And it never will.”
I love him so much.
A day has passed since I healed Xandor from his wounds. We spent a blissful, cozy day together—just the two of us, no horrible Mutalisk’s, no terrifying Scythian drones, no Nebian fortress to breach. Just our love pouring forth, our every need taken care of by the wonderful Nebian technology.
I suppress a laugh, recalling Xandor’s face trying some Earth fries. At first, he seemed to like them, but then his face twisted, muttering how he prefers meat. Next time I’ll find an Earth meat dish for him to try, I’m determined for him to like something from my home planet—it would make me happy.
Now, Xandor and I approach a large white structure with gleaming, twisting columns—the Nebian Imperial Forum. The sight of it fills me with a flood of trepidation and anxiousness, not helped by Xandor’s attitude. With every step closer, his manner takes a darker tone, reminding me of his rages during our daring charge to reach the Imperator.
We received a request to attend the Imperial Forum to begin formal alliance negotiations late yesterday. What upset Xandor was when they refused to return his warvisor and armor. And the fate of Noroth and Logarn, still unknown, soured whatever touch of goodwill Xandor had for the Nebians.
I frown, scanning the busy streets, as some Nebians stand pointing at us with mouths agape and wide-eyed terror, exclaiming, “Klendathian!” It’s a wonder the sirens haven’t gone off and started blasting us with laser cannons at this rate.
“Voiding short-stuffs, I swear to the Gods I’ll—” Xandor sneers, looking at the rude Nebians.
“Did you know Imperator Bulba is over a thousand years old?” I interrupt, hoping to turn his mind back to happier thoughts.
“Bulba?” Xandor questions in annoyance. His expression of frustration melts into a handsome smile as his gaze shifts to me. “Oh, I knew he was old, but not that old.” His face scrunches in thought. “He might be even older than Elder Nyxius.”
Amidst my time researching Earth I also grew curious about our hosts, reading about the reign of Bulba the fourth, how under his leadership the Nebians entered a new age of enlightenment, embracing logic and reason that drove them deeper into unknown space, subduing many species and trading with others—until they encountered the Scythians.
“Nyxius?” I ask, unfamiliar with the name. “Is he a Nebian?”
I take a deep breath as Xander squeezes me, his strong, reassuring arm around my waist. We march up the small but numerous steps leading to the gleaming doorway.
“No, he’s a Klendathian who sits on the Council of Elders. I believe he’s nearly a thousand years old. Probably the oldest. Although there are tales from Clan Virennix of an ancient warrior called Old Relix supposedly over a thousand years old, but that’s likely a pile of Virennix borack crap...” his voice trails off, lost in thought as my mind reels with sudden realization.
“Wait, so Klendathians also live as long as a thousand years?” I ask, incredulous, a tinge of sadness creeping into my voice.
“Yep, but most don’t make it that long.” His gaze shifts to the looming door, frowning. “Old age is a sign of cowardice, truth be told. Better to die in battle with all your teeth in your head, among your war brothers, than forcing the Gods to pluck your stubborn backside to the ancestors through illness and gradual decline. Know what I mean?”
His monologues have me all muddled. I’d enjoy them if not for the nervousness growing with each ominous step inside the spectacular building with its large white beams, marble floors, and paneling topped by a towering domed ceiling in a mosaic pattern. “Maybe,” I mutter, detracted by the pretty architecture. “What age are you, then?” I ask, remembering my original reasoning.
Xandor glances around, taking in the surroundings, but his eye doesn’t marvel. It seems to size up the place, focusing on entries and exits and the robotic guards. “Two hundred and twelve, I think,” he states causally, as if this isn’t shocking news.
“Two hundred and twelve!” I exclaim in total disbelief, halting to scrutinize his face, finding no traces of wrinkles or signs of age. “No way you’re that old.”
Xandor chuckles, “You know Rocks said the same thing.” He tilts his head side to side, smiling. “It must be because of my dashing good looks.”
That’s one reason!
“You know humans only live till around ninety? Or so the Nebians say.” Maybe they’re wrong. I hope they’re wrong.
“Hmm, that explains why the humans are so frisky,” Xandor suggests with a frown.
I laugh, “I think you Klendathians are plenty frisky, judging by your standards.” The memories of yesterday’s many mating sessions come pouring in, coalescing into a wonderful tapestry of fun. I shudder to think how sore I’d be if I didn’t heal myself.
“True,” Xandor laughs, squeezing me tighter. “I do set the bar high for our legendary Klendathian virality.”
I enjoy Xandor’s meandering talks, bouncing from one topic to the next, getting lost in his strange stories and rants. But when I want to keep on the topic, it can be difficult keeping him focused. It’s a quirk I love about him though, preferring to listen to his deep voice than speaking myself.
“Don’t you think it’s sad, though?” I ask, drawing the conversation back to age.
“The mating?” Xandor asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “It’s a gift from the Gods,” he adds with a far-off smile.
“No, that humans only live to ninety. That means I’ll be long dead before you.” I smirk, waving my hands in his towering face. “My hands will be all old and wrinkly!” I add in a silly voice.
I suppose he’ll eventually replace me with someone else...
The thought hits harder than I expected, filling me with sadness and a trembling lip.
Xandor’s playful demeanor fades as he senses my shift in mood. He stops walking and turns to face me, his expression softening. “Your paths glow brightly like the twin suns above, eclipsing my own in your glorious light.” He brushes a hand over my cheek, his touch tender.
My heart flutters at his dramatic words and his caress, but his meaning could imply a darker future. “Please tell me nothing awful is going to take you away from me?” I plead, searching his face for the truth.
Xandor lets out a short laugh. “I’m hesitant to say too much, in case knowing alters the victorious routes.” He leans down, brushing his nose against mine, staring into my eyes, the closeness surprisingly intense. “But I will say your light burns so fiercely, I can see it banishing the darkness for many hundreds of years.”
But how?
I gasp at his words, relief and surprise flooding through me. Overcome with joy at the prospect of us being together for both our long lives, I say, “I love you so much Xandor, I just want us to be together forever.” I tip-toe, wrapping my arms around him to kiss his sweet, full lips.
“Excuse me...” I almost don’t hear the voice, distracted by Xandor’s lips massaging my own, his massive hand arching my back, pulling me closer, as our tongues collide in a beautiful, heady union.
“EXCUSE ME!” the annoying female voice insists.
“What?” Xandor and I exclaim in unison, glaring down at the Nebian female wearing a white robe with a hovering drone.
She recoils in horror, a hand to her chest, not helped by Xandors bared fangs. “Bloody off-worlders, so uncivilized,” she mutters, collecting herself and straightening her flowing clothes. “I trust you two... people are here for the Consulate meeting?” The short red-haired female looks us up and down, before settling on a haughty raised nose that’s too big for her squat face.
“Indeed, we are, my tragically large-nosed friend,” Xandor replies with a looming, predatory smile, while I try not to giggle. “Is there something you require from us, other than rudely interrupting my love and me?”
“I’m rude?” The Nebian female snaps back, her light blue skin deepening. “Open fornication is forbidden within public buildings, but it shouldn’t need to be stated. Such uncouth displays are not the actions of a polite society.”
“Politeness,” Xandor snorts, sounding bored. “Is a means of control,” he adds with a frown. “Tell me, stifling one, which way to the meeting?”
The white-robed Nebian sighs loudly. “Please observe,” she gestures to the massive marble doors, a striking difference to the usual Nebian style, hinting at its ancient construction.
“My thanks,” Xandor says, turning to leave, his muscular arm protectively wrapping around me, making me feel safe. “Come, my love.”
“Wait!” the annoying Nebian exclaims. “You can’t just stroll in. There are protocols to follow.”
Xandor groans, turning, while I worry his impatience and disdain for the Nebians may jeopardize his mission of peace. “Protocols, how... Nebian,” he states, his tone dripping with contempt. “Ask your inane questions.”
The Nebian frowns, meeting Xandor’s stern, glowing golden eye. “What are your designations?” She asks, activating her holographic wrist console.
Xandor sighs. “You must know why we’re here?” I clutch his arm in an unspoken gesture for calmness—at least I hope so.
“It’s for the records. Now if you would,” the female Nebian insists.
“I’m Xandor the Second—no. The Warrior of Peace,” Xandor corrects himself, nodding with approval.
“Xandor, The Warrior of...” The female’s orange eyes shift from her projection to Xandor with a grimace. “Peace...” she adds, lingering on the word in disbelief. “Very good. And you lass?” she asks, her gaze waiting expectedly, prompting my pulse to rise.
What is my title? Former slave? Earth mercenary? Strange healer?
“Um, I’m Tyrxie...” I pause, struggling to come up with a satisfactory response.
“Her title is Kor-Kis,” Xandor interjects, beaming down at me. I recognize the harsh, sharp tongue as Klendathian, but the meaning is unknown to me.
“What does that mean?” I whisper, tiptoeing to reach Xandor’s towering ears.
Xandor gives a short laugh, a glint of mischief in his eye. “You’ll find out,” is all he offers as I search his face, wondering what silly title he’s just given me.
Probably means ferocious eater or something.
“Kor-Kis, Tyrxie... very good,” the Nebian states, her deft hands darting over the holographic projection. “Now, are you carrying any weapons on your personage?” she adds, eyeing Xandor with suspicion. It’s funny she presumes he might be the one concealing weapons—he’s far too brazen for that—unlike me...
“Just these,” Xandor declares with a smirk, extending his long, razor-sharp claws that glint in the blue-tinted light.
The female Nebian gasps with a hand to her ample bosom. “Twin suns!” she exclaims in fright. As I thumb my precious locket, my other hand fingers the hilt of my long knife concealed in my polymer jacket.
“Can’t you remove those ghastly weapons?” The Nebian female insists, her tone tinged with disapproval.
“Remove my claws?” Xandor’s face twists into a fearsome sneer, filling me with dread. “Haven’t you Nebians taken enough from me!” he sneers. Many of the Nebians in the large room halt to stare, muttering in condemnation.
My heart aches for my love, the trauma of his brutal torture twisting his better nature. But I will guide him back to the hero I know he is. I place a comforting hand on the wounded remnants of his arm, projecting my love and healing through my touch.
“He can’t remove his claws. It’s part of his body,” I interject, glaring at the frowning female Nebian. “That’s like asking to remove your teeth because they’re sharp.”
Mercifully, Xandor exhales loudly, and his body relaxes under my soothing touch, filling me with relief. The female Nebian scrutinizes Xandor for a moment, while I watch with bated breath. “Very well. Please submit to a scan,” she commands.
Submit. Poor choice of words.
Thankfully, Xandor remains calm, opening his posture with his arm outstretched. The small white drone emits a green light, bathing Xandor from top to bottom, then back again. My chest flutters in mild panic as I caress my hidden knife, knowing I’ll be scanned soon.
“No weapons. Very good,” the female Nebian declares as her eyes dart to her simmering blue holographic projection, adding an entry. Now’s my chance! With a sly, quick hand, I hide my knife in Xandor’s pocket—a trick I learned from Mod.
Xandor smirks knowingly, but is shrewd enough to make no obvious movements—he misses nothing. “What about you lass, are you carrying any weapons on your personage?” The female Nebian glances oblivious, observing my innocent demeanor.
“Me? Oh, no,” I reply, throwing up submissive hands with a feigned look of distaste.
“Please submit to a scan,” the female Nebian intones, as I nod in acquiescence. The orbed drone bathes me in green light as I hold out my hands, trying to keep my eyes open. “Also, no weapons. Very good.” She lets out a deep sigh. “That’s everything in order. Please proceed. I believe the Consulate is already assembled.”
Xandor scoffs, turning with a dramatic flourish. “Assembled waiting for nameless attendees, apparently,” he mutters, his tone dripping with disdain. He offers me his arm, and I take it, feeling the reassuring strength beneath his casual demeanor.
“Klendathians...” the female Nebian tuts under her breath.
A pang of sympathy prompts me to offer. “Farewell, thanks for the help.” But she only waves a dismissive hand.
I retrieve my knife from Xandor with a quick hand, slipping it up my sleeve as we walk down the grand hallway, the marble floors echoing our footsteps. My mind races, knowing we’re about to face the Nebian Consulate. The grandeur of the building, with its high ceilings and intricate mosaics, does little to ease my nerves.
As we approach the towering doors of the Consulate chamber, Xandor leans down slightly, his voice heated. “Tyrxie, open this sleeve up, if you’d be so kind.” His sharp claws rend the dangling left arm of his leather shirt to pieces. “Every time they gaze upon my stump will remind them of the dishonor of their actions. Let them wallow in it!”
Despite the worry gnawing at me, I comply, reaching up to tear off the material, exposing his heart-wrenching wound. “Xandor...” I start, struggling to find the words but determined to pull my love away from his dark path. “Your anger... it worries me. I read about the Nebians. They are stubborn people with a strict social order. They won’t respond well to hostility.”
Xandor’s gaze seems far-off as his hand trembles in a clenched fist. “Yet they unleash hostility at the first opportunity. Don’t forget what they took from you—what they took from us.”
“I know it’s hard. Void, it’s hard for me too. I wish things had turned out differently. But this is a real chance for peace. It just takes one side to stop the cycle of violence. Be the Warrior of Peace,” I urge.
Xandor remains silent, his gaze still glazed over; his fangs poking out beneath a twisted lip. “I give you my word—”
“No!” I snap, interrupting him, overcome with a suppressed anguish that erupts to the surface. I didn’t know I possessed. “Don’t do that! Don’t give me your word, then do the opposite. That’s what liars do, and I know you’re better than that.”
I thump his broad chest, burying my head against him, filled with despair. Desperate to make him see, fearing I’m on the verge of losing him. “Tyrxie I—”
“Before in the audience chamber, you promised not to let your rage get the better of you... People got hurt, Xandor, and I know you could’ve ended it sooner, but you let hatred and vengeance take over,” I plead, my eyes glistening against his warmth.
“So what?” Xandor sneers, bristling against me, his barely restrained hatred now oozing to the surface. “Void the Nebians. They deserved it! And that loathsome Prefect got off too lightly. I only wish I could’ve made him suffer more, to bestow the same gift of weakness that infects me!”
His intensity scares me, filling me with dread as I fight back tears. But I’ll fight for him if it takes a hundred years—a thousand years, because we’ve joined souls. I know the goodness that lies within, shrouded in a darkness that doesn’t belong.
“Void, Xandor you’re anything but weak. You’re strong like a hero from a story,” I mutter, chancing a look into his hard, golden eye.
“Hero?” Xandor spits the word. “My beautiful, na?ve Tyrxie. There are no heroes in this life—only the strong... and the dead.”
His words strike like a brutal gut punch. “No...” I sob, shaking my head. Yet his face is as hard and unyielding as I’ve ever seen, twisting his handsome features. “That’s not true.”
“Gods, you’d not say such silly things if you’d witnessed my shame. How I screamed, how I wailed. They broke me, Tyrxie. Leaving me shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, pieces that can never truly be mended.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s your hero, just a broken cripple shrouded in empty bravado. That’s who I am.” His voice wavers towards the end, filled with raw emotion, as he averts his gaze.
His vulnerability shocks me, having never seen this side of him before. It breaks my heart, and a shameful part of me recoils as the heroic version of Xandor in my mind begins to crumble. “I... I don’t understand. What about the bright futures you promised? Was that all a lie, too?” I sniff back tears, searching his downcast face.
“It’s one thing knowing the correct paths,” Xandor gives a sardonic laugh. “It’s another having the strength to follow them. Seems I’m just a male, after all.”
My future, which once seemed so bright and certain, now looms dark and ominous. It’s as if I’m seeing the real Xandor for the first time—a person just like any other, capable of fear, doubt, consumed by hatred.
Memories stream through my mind: Xandor striding bravely against the horrible Mutalisk, saving me from the Tuskarian, giving me the strength to face Kaanus, defending me against the Scythian drones, sacrificing his arm to save my life, enduring gruesome torture, defeating the Prefect, and his encouraging words drawing out my inner strength.
Behind his heart-wrenching, wavering expression, I see the goodness in him. I can feel it deep in our bond. It infuses my essence, bathing me in his glorious warmth, soaring my heart. Xandor’s wrong, and I was wrong. I regret doubting him even for a second, because he is a hero—my hero—and he always will be.
Now, it’s my turn to remind him of his inner strength, because we’re like a family, and I love him. I smile at Xandor, my heart filled with new understanding, reaching to cup his face in my hands. “Xandor, look at me,” I say, directing his gaze toward mine. “You are more than your pain, more than your anger. You are strong because you’ve endured, and you’ve survived. That is where your true strength lies.”
He looks at me, his glowing eye filled with a mixture of anguish and confusion. “But how can I be strong after being broken?”
“Being strong doesn’t mean never breaking,” I reply, my voice soft but firm. “I’ll help you pick up the pieces.” I take his enormous hand in mine. “Even if there are a thousand, a million—one for every star in the cosmos—I’ll gather them, if it means bringing you back to me.”
Infused by raw emotion, I channel my healing powers through my hands, the gentle green glow a physical manifestation of my words, yearning to reach his troubled mind.
Xandor’s expression softens, the hardness in his eye giving way to a faint smile. “My Kor-Kis, my beautiful soul,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine, creating an intimate space that’s ours alone. I wrap my arms around him, overcome with love, feeling the tension in his immense muscles ease as his rich scent fills my lungs. I never want to let go. “For you, Tyrxie, I’ll be the hero you deserve.”
Some Nebians pass by, giving us strange looks. Our exchange no doubt breaches their strict social conduct, but I don’t care—this moment is ours. Something real, something tangible in a vast, uncaring universe, and I’ll fight to my last breath to protect it.
For a blissful moment, we stand there, Xandor’s smile growing stronger with each heartbeat a reflection of mine. Then he nods, his confidence returning “Right, time for this Warrior of Peace to bring harmony amongst the short-stuffs,” he laughs deeply, fully himself again.
As we turn to face the looming doors of the consulate chamber, I feel a renewed sense of determination and lightness, like a weight has lifted from my shoulders. Xandor pushes open the gigantic door, graciously offering me to enter.
I beam at him. “No, after you, my golden hero.”