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t/w: brief mentions of torture, experimentation and abuse
CHAPTER THIRTEEN...
"All right, Leena, are you prepared to start training?"
Charles' voice rings out across the open courtyard. I stand across from him, my legs spread slightly apart, ready to attack. I smirk, pushing a stray strand of hair back into the messy ponytail Raven helped me with this morning. It's been one day since I fled the satellite, the memory of Sean and I's kiss is still a ghost on my lips. Just the thought makes my shiver. That night, the memories hidden away in the dark corners of my mind presented themselves, bursting through my carefully constructed walls.
I laid in bed, my body stick straight, sweat licking at my neck and the small of my back. They were dark, full of anguish and pain and suffering. Memories I didn't even know I still had trapped me in an endless loop of darkness without an ounce of light to dispel it. This morning, with heavy bags under my eyes and determination settling deep into my bones, I walked into the kitchen to find Raven sitting at the table.
She'd gotten up, moving towards me with an infallible smile on her face. She reached out to me, trying to pull me into a hug. The moment her soft flesh connected with my own, I yanked away, the visions already consuming me. I apologized and left the room, trying to control my breathing.
Shaw cupping my cheek, forcing me to use my abilities. Emma's smooth hand on the crook of my elbow, keeping me close and trapped. I gulped them down, instead focusing my attention on training, and nothing else. I didn't have the time nor the strength to break down now. I immediately regretted the way I'd reacted to Sean kissing me, but I've done nothing about it. Once we get to Shaw, once we capture him, then the nightmares will stop. The memories will cease, and perhaps I can try again.
Captured. The word feels strange in my mind, on the tip of my tongue. It doesn't seem like enough. It doesn't seem like the right punishment for a man that's brought and will bring so much destruction. I shake my head, forcing myself back to reality. Just like I can't afford to think about love, I can't afford to imagine murder.
I turn back to Charles. Erik stands a little ways away, leaning against the side of the manor, and I can see the rest looking down on us from the windows that surround this place of gravel and green. A large fountain sits in the center of the round courtyard. I stand on one end of the pebble mosaic, with Charles at the other. Sweat rushes down the side of my forehead. I take a deep breath.
"Yes." I tell Charles. "I'm ready." Someone claps in the distance, and in an instant I know who it is. I turn my head slightly to find Sean, lazily leaning on a pillar, watching the session. The moment our eyes connect, my cheeks burn. He said he understood last night, but I can still sense an air of uncertainty between us. His smile isn't as bright as it usually is, and he holds himself with a sort of resignation. He thinks we're treading on eggshells. One wrong word, one wrong move, and we'll snap.
