|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 3, 2011 19:50:34 GMT -5
"Maybe," she said, because coming from Pietro the comment wasn't an insult. "But it shows the powers don't make the person. As they wouldn't with you."
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 3, 2011 19:59:28 GMT -5
"It is different." ::Pietro did not think he would become Magneto, but the blood connection was unbearable enough already. The universe did not need two men of the same bloodline sharing powers. But he also did not want to contemplate that.:: "We should go dress for supper."
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 3, 2011 20:00:50 GMT -5
She recognized intentional avoidance of a subject when she saw it. Magneto had always been a tricky subject. Instead of pursuing it, she leaned over to kiss him softly.
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 3, 2011 20:09:13 GMT -5
::Pietro leaned into the kiss, returning it as gently as she had initiated.::
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 3, 2011 20:14:42 GMT -5
She let it last for a few moments, but didn't try to deepen it any before she pulled away. "Let's go dress," she said, with a small smile.
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 3, 2011 20:18:34 GMT -5
::Pietro rose to his feet, and still holding her hand in his, walked off towards the mansion.::
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 3, 2011 20:21:07 GMT -5
Typhoid followed without letting go. It looked like he'd need the support.
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 5, 2011 20:31:45 GMT -5
*******************
::Another week passed with fewer incidents, although the migraines had grown worse and almost everyone in the mansion, now, would smile at him when he went into the kitchen. He had taken to eating alone in his bedroom because it was too complicated.
Then his hair had begun falling out in clumps. The speedster was close to giving up. And while it was a weeknight and Rossignol was at University, he weighed the options, donned a sweatshirt with a hood, took a handful of painkillers in preparation of the migraine, and then ran into the City to meet her. He got through security without incident and knocked on her door.::
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 5, 2011 20:35:40 GMT -5
She was working on a paper for an English course when the knock came. "Yes?"she said. She wasn't expecting anyone, and Pietro usually called first.
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 5, 2011 20:41:02 GMT -5
"It is me." ::Pietro would have called otherwise, but he had reached the limits of his ability to cope and he had rushed in. But he expected his girlfriend to recognize his voice which would spare him the introduction.::
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 5, 2011 20:44:39 GMT -5
She got up from where she'd been sitting on her bed with her laptop. "Come in, love."
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 5, 2011 20:53:27 GMT -5
::Pietro let himself in, quickly shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall, not coming closer.:: "It is a bad day."
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 5, 2011 20:57:25 GMT -5
Her laptop chimed, and she silenced it, then came closer with a frown on her face. "Worse migraines?" She knew they got worse in the city, which was was she was surprised he was even here.
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Maximoff on Apr 5, 2011 21:07:51 GMT -5
"Worse everything," ::Pietro said, mulling over whether he could overcome his embarrassment enough to show her what had happened.::
|
|
|
Post by Typhoid on Apr 5, 2011 21:10:00 GMT -5
She offered him her hand; he wasn't moving from where he was, as if he were backing himself into a corner. "What can I do?" she asked simply, an offer of whatever help she could give.
|
|