𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 (X-Men ~ Peter Maximoff)

The Letter

The eighth of September wasn't a particularly important or interesting in the scheme of things, but for the nine hundred and seventy four teenagers that attended the high school sitting on the East side of town, it was perhaps the biggest thing in the year. As the first day back after six weeks summer holiday the building was chaos, students wandering around looking for their new classes and old friends as they tried, and in most cases, failed, to remember their timetables.

Of course, the entire first month of school would be hellish for the tiny freshman's, who would immediately be spotted by the older half of the school, for better or worse, though statistically speaking it was usually worse – as if the transition wasn't hard enough already.

Jennifer Jones was not at school on the eighth. Or the ninth. Or even the tenth. It was like she had disappeared off the face of the Earth, and with each additional day her name was called out only to be met with silence, people began to forget who she was.

There was, of course, a reason she was missing from all her favourite classes, at the reason was the result of a certain letter arriving in the post, delivered straight to the Maximoff door on the twenty ninth of August.

It had stuck out like a sore thumb, a brown, stamp cluttered envelop amongst many fresh white envelops, free of any wrinkles, bends, or creases. But despite all the stamps, it was a single one that had caught everyone's eye – the one stuck perfectly in the top right hand corner, the young face of Queen Elizabeth etched onto a red background, recognisable without having to put any thought into it.

Laura had waited in the room for as long as it took Jennifer to take the letter into her own grasp, watching as the recipient had literally jumped off her seat in order to receive it as soon as possible, and then left the room with Maisie in tow, allowing the teenager to have some peace as she opened what she had been waiting weeks for.

Jennifer's vision went tunnel as she returned to the couch, her eyes refusing to leave the bundle in her clutches as she dropped back onto the cushions beside Peter of whom she only got a glimpse of but knew for a fact that he was leaning forward, anticipating the very same thing as her.

Unbelievably she couldn't find the strength within her to break the seal on the back. She had been waiting for this moment, for confirmation, for what seemed like forever, but now it felt foreign, heavy in her hands. Her fingers fiddled with the sides of the envelop, struggling to understand why she was frozen looking at her name and address on the front. She should've been bouncing up and down in joy, and yet there she sat, dread filling her head, and with a moments more thought, she understood why.

The handwriting did not match her mothers, not in the slightest. There were no fancy curves or elegant swoops, but rather sharp flicks that somehow held the power to actually hurt Jennifer, at least emotionally. It shouldn't have in all honestly, after all, Mary Howard frequently wrote letters without addressing them, leading to Jennifer having to fill in the details herself before posting it. Still, that fact did not prevent her heart from rising into her throat.

From beside her, Jennifer felt Peter shift slightly. "Are you going to open it?," she heard him say slowly, and she knew that he didn't want to rush her, for which she was grateful.

With a shaky "Yeah," she pulled open the seal with her index finger, carefully removing the sheets of paper that sat neatly within the envelop, and with a deep breath of preparation, she unfolded them, resting them on her lap.

Dearest Jennifer, the letter started, the handwriting not matching her mothers like she had expected, but rather the one that had been on the envelop. Something was wrong. Chances were her mother had moved away and the new residents had had the heart to return the original letter with all the information they could, but only a small part of Jennifer could believe that.