Space Man

Admin Work

Xisuma—Shishwammy, as I teasingly decided to call him—wasn't as subtle as he thought when he started looking around for his admin tablet. His expression betrayed his curiosity, and I could see the gears turning in his head as he began to reach for the nearest console.

“Oh no, you don’t!” I intercepted immediately, sliding the tablet out of reach.

He blinked at me, clearly confused. “What? I was just going to check—”

“Absolutely not,” I cut him off, crossing my arms for emphasis. “You’re supposed to be resting, remember? Admin work can wait.”

Xisuma tilted his head, still looking perplexed. “But… who’s handling it? I need to—”

“Your brother and Joe are already taking care of it,” I explained, gently but firmly. “Xavier even texted me earlier to say everything’s under control.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to process the idea that things could run smoothly without him. “They’re… taking care of it?” he repeated slowly, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Yes, and they’re doing just fine,” I assured him, placing the tablet far out of reach just in case. “You’ve been running yourself ragged, Xisuma. Let someone else handle things for a change.”

He frowned, clearly struggling with the concept of stepping back. “But what if—”

“Nope,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “No ‘what ifs.’ The world isn’t going to fall apart if you take a day—or even a week—to recover.”

Xisuma sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he gave in. “This feels… weird.”

“I know,” I said, softening my tone as I sat down next to him. “But it’s good for you. You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else—let someone take care of you for once.”

He looked at me, his pinkish-purple eyes still holding a flicker of doubt, but there was something else there too—gratitude, maybe? “You’re really not going to let me work, are you?”

“Not a chance,” I said with a small smile.

For a moment, he seemed to relax, the tension in his posture easing just a little. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” I teased, earning a soft chuckle from him.

And just like that, I could see a spark of trust growing in his eyes—trust that maybe, just maybe, he could let go for a little while.

I gently pried the tablet from his hands, tucking it under my arm as I reached out to him. Taking his hand, I gave it a light squeeze before leading him toward the exit of the medical area, purposefully steering him away from the elevator.

As we approached the corridor, he hesitated, his steps faltering. I stopped immediately, turning to face him. His pinkish-purple eyes darted nervously around the room, the faintest tremble in his hand betraying his unease.

“I don’t want to go up there…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze dropped to the floor. “What if someone is here?”

My heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone, and I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one is here, sweetheart,” I said softly, using the endearment without even thinking. “And if you’re so worried about someone seeing you without your armor, I’ll have Xavier put up barrier blocks around your home. That way, no one can get through without your permission.”

He glanced up at me, a flicker of hope mingling with his apprehension. “You’d really do that?”

“Of course,” I replied with a warm smile. “Your comfort and privacy matter. If it makes you feel safer, consider it done.”