𝖠𝖥𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖥𝖤 ↳ quicksilver

》two《

song: why by rascal flatts

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Despite having to live in fear, there were many pros to being a mutant.

One being Peter. 

He was the absolute world to Elsie; as she was to him. Life without one another would be just infeasible, the grief would be too much to bear.

Time seemed to freeze, Peter's face mere inches away from hers. So close yet seemingly so far...

Much to their chagrin, the moment was not sealed as they had wanted it to be when none other than Charles Xavier entered the room.

"Not to be the bringer of bad news, but you both need to suit up."

Peter groaned, throwing his head back against the cushion behind him. They had both been sprawled out across the floor so Peter's papers could all be in sight at once.

"Come on, we have a world to save." Elsie tapped his arm as she cogently, yet simply, stated.

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There was no preventing it

You and I both know this

She died a hero

Isn't that enough?

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"Don't leave me behind." Elsie nudged Peter's shoulder, getting comfortable on the seat next to him before taking his hand in her own softly, soft fingertips brushing and contrasting with his rough skin.

Just her touch alone could set him at ease, "and how could we leave you behind? You're like the glue to our team."

Peter almost never used this tone. His voice tended to be laced with so much sarcasm, dripping off his words like honey.

That's how she knew he was nervous. He was being serious.

The interior of the jet was a pretty simple one. Well; simple for a mutant superhero group who save the world while being hated at the same time, simple. Yellow seatbelts clad the plain, black seats. Toward the back held a small secluded sickbay incase any of the team were seriously injured on a mission, which never happened too frequently but was definitely a possibility.

Before Elsie could reply, Logan emerged from the front of the jet, "Gilmore."

Knowing it would be another run-through of protocol, Elsie shot her boyfriend a reassuring smile before following the local, war hero, alcoholic (that everyone has, of course) to one of the antechambers used for undertaking commissions.

All that was on Peter's mind as he watched her, ebulliently moving along as if all was perfectly orderly, was what he ever did to deserve her. The way the omnifabricant* seemed to have the additional ability to forget all the negative events occurring around her and focus on making sure the people she loved were okay was just astonishing to Peter.