Fate decides who comes into your life; your heart decides who stays.
"𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑."
[X-Men: First Class - X-Men Apo...
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Warning: mentions of poverty and lack of food, mentions of homophobia
When Ria walks through the door of the small apartment, the wood rotting around her and the sunlight illuminating broken floorboards which she expertly leaps across, Erik cannot believe he has ever seen someone so graceful. It pulls at his frozen heart like a flickering flame, barely able to shed warmth on his skin but still very much alive.
She wears a long dress now, down past her knees to cover her ankles, and he remembers the style from his youth. He saw pictures in black and white of men and women building marvelous things—machines and the like—all around Europe. His country's propaganda had been different, but he'd still seen the pictures, understood the implications.
"Jack!" Ria calls out as she removes the coat from her shoulders and closes her umbrella. "Jackie! I'm home!" A smile tugs at her lips. It's the same smile Erik has seen many times, always directed at him. Then again, it had been directed at Nerio only a few moments before until he burned.
He can almost ignore Charles' presence as he follows Ria through the small apartment into the area that functions as a bedroom with a fireplace. A young woman sits by the flames with a blanket thrown over her, soft snores echoing with the crackling fire.
Ria pauses in the middle of the room, only a few feet away. Her expression softens as she sneaks over and presses a kiss to the woman's forehead and whispers, "I'll make us some dinner."
The woman barely stirs, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leans into Ria's embrace.
Ria simply smiles and pulls away. Erik hadn't seen the sorry excuse for a kitchen, but she moves towards it with purpose. Before long, she has something cooking, the aroma calming his racing mind.
The sleeping woman's eyes open, and, after a moment, she groans and stands up to stretch before trudging her way over to Ria. She slips her arms around Ria's waist and asks, "Have I told you how much I appreciate that you can cook?"
"Many times," Ria chuckles as she stirs the small pot. "It isn't much, but it's something. Have you eaten today?"
"Sure," the woman scoffs. "Yes, from the bread we don't have to the meat I pass every day, I had a small something." Ria turns in the woman's grip and arches a brow. "Fine, no. I'm starving."
"Jacklyn," Ria groans, cupping the woman's face affectionately and shaking her head. "We talked about this. You, Ms. Griffin, need to eat more than just leather soup every day."
The woman frowns playfully. "Would you count towards that requirement?"
Ria rolls her eyes. "How far you've come from the posh woman I met. I am not your dinner."
