[ He's sweet and funny, his comment about sugar making her smile as a weight is lifted slightly from her shoulders and that vise-like grip loosens around her heart. She calls everyone sugar, there's no stopping it. Not even a war could chase that tendency from her, it's so deeply ingrained.
She walks with him without question, the hallways they follow more familiar to her than the back of her own hand. These were built by her mind, the foundations crafted with Charles' help, strengthened by Erik's resolve and Logan's faith in her. Her wounded knights, the reasons she survived-- No, she isn't thinking of that now. Her broodmate is here and she really should be a better hostess. Her mother would be appalled at her lack of hospitality, if she ever cared to worry about more than her adopted daughter's distressing mutant condition.
If she ever cared to worry about Marie at all. More things to set aside and think of never. ]
(You helped a lot actually, thank you. Sometimes I get caught up in their voices and it's... hard to pull away again. I'm okay now though, I'm used to it.) [ Seventeen years is a enough time to adjust to being haunted by hundreds of voices in her head. ]
(Come on in here, sugar, it's nicer than just standing in the hall.)
[ She gives a gentle tug on his arm and steers them toward a sliding set of double doors, easing them open and revealing a spacious, airy sitting room. There's an unfinished game of chess on a table between two armchairs, a large table covered in a 5,000 piece puzzle, and a game of Solitaire laid out on a coffee table in front of a couch. Everything is clean and comfortable, both in appearance and feeling, greens and creams and pale yellows coloring the room. It's one of her favorites, and certainly one she spends a good deal of time in. ]
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She walks with him without question, the hallways they follow more familiar to her than the back of her own hand. These were built by her mind, the foundations crafted with Charles' help, strengthened by Erik's resolve and Logan's faith in her. Her wounded knights, the reasons she survived-- No, she isn't thinking of that now. Her broodmate is here and she really should be a better hostess. Her mother would be appalled at her lack of hospitality, if she ever cared to worry about more than her adopted daughter's distressing mutant condition.
If she ever cared to worry about Marie at all. More things to set aside and think of never. ]
( You helped a lot actually, thank you. Sometimes I get caught up in their voices and it's... hard to pull away again. I'm okay now though, I'm used to it. ) [ Seventeen years is a enough time to adjust to being haunted by hundreds of voices in her head. ]
( Come on in here, sugar, it's nicer than just standing in the hall. )
[ She gives a gentle tug on his arm and steers them toward a sliding set of double doors, easing them open and revealing a spacious, airy sitting room. There's an unfinished game of chess on a table between two armchairs, a large table covered in a 5,000 piece puzzle, and a game of Solitaire laid out on a coffee table in front of a couch. Everything is clean and comfortable, both in appearance and feeling, greens and creams and pale yellows coloring the room. It's one of her favorites, and certainly one she spends a good deal of time in. ]