tfln

[powerunleashed]

from here.

Jean was on the roof, actually, but that was only because she had recently discovered how to use telekinesis to power flight and being on the roof meant that nobody else could bother her. It was a clear night and, considering it was late spring, not cold so she had a perfect view of all the stars above her.

Her phone was abandoned beside her and she laid flat on her back, looking up at the constellations above her. There was Ursa Major, Ursa Minor. Sagittarius, Cancer, Cassiopeia. She'd learned them all as a younger girl and the names and shapes came back easily to her now.

The only difference between this night and the last time she'd been on the roof was that she was perfectly sober this time around.

Comments

[powerunleashed]

"I'm not a kid," Jean insisted. She was an adult, old enough to consent and decide what she wanted, and she felt like his choice of words was his way of trying to put distance between them. She didn't want distance. She wanted to push against those boundaries, blur them so that they could share space instead of dancing around one another.

Jean reached out and touched his hand lightly, just a brush of her fingertips against his skin. "I'm attracted to you. Being self-deprecating isn't really changing that for me, Logan. I've wanted you since I first went into your mind and it hasn't faded."

[themancomesaround]

He knows she's coming closer, and he doesn't move away. The last thing he wants is to escape her presence, however much he knows he should. Jean's always felt like calm to him; with her nearby, the world becomes understandable, livable. The empty spaces where memories should be fill in a little.

But when she speaks, he looks up sharply, unable to mask the expression in his eyes. There's naked longing in his face--when's the last time anyone's touched him? Christ, her hands are soft--but it's mixed with horror. "That was Alkali."

[powerunleashed]

"When I touched your mind, I saw past all that. I saw the man and the beast at once," Jean said, hurt and concerned that he would react so sharply to her admission. She was only trying to tell him how much she cared about him and how much she didn't care about his past.

She squeezed his hand briefly before letting it go, reached forward to touch his face in a mirror of that first touch.

"Just tell me you don't want me," she said, voice soft and pleading. "If you don't want me, tell me so that I don't have any hope."