"Are you up to the task?" Rogue paced across the room while playing with his ponytail. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Alexander's discomfort. The latter was shifting in his seat and staring at the floor. "I don't want to admit it, but you have a gift of leadership that sadly, even I do not have."
The latter remained silent. His thoughts drifted to his memories of his parents training him to be a leader since the moment he could walk until their unfortunate death at the peak of his teenage years, and realized that Rogue was wrong—he wasn't born a leader at all. Being prepared to lead was something that he sacrificed his childhood for.
Looking up, Alexander met his stare. "You've been spearheading this movement for god knows how long and yet you're telling me that you're no leader
