The visible nervousness doesn't help Xavier anymore. He forces himself to lean forward, eyes never leaving Lucas' as he begins to ramble. There's no smile and his face remains expressionless - that's his armour now. Shaking him will do nothing and neither will screaming. Usually when he touches someone else in his dreams, they vanish.
"Twelve and a half years." His voice isn't as steady though - it shakes with the restrain confusion of emotions. Anger, hurt, and depression - he can't keep track of them. "You'd think you'd have no trouble with it."