Chapter Twenty-Nine: Just Because Someone Stumbles

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Picture is Elizabeth Olsen by unknown.

Music is "Redeemer" by Paul Cardall.

All rights go to their rightful owners.

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"Just because someone stumbles and loses their way, doesn't mean they can't be saved." ~Charles Xavier

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The walls caved in. The room went black again and the heat from the fire burned my skin. Black flames raged around me, pushing against my skin. It was not a pleasant warmth, not a enchanting fireplace fire.

This was hell. This was rage. Demons are to blame.

I see a dark figure cloaked in destruction and death appear in the fire. A wicked smile forms on his lips, and his eyes shown with evil intent. "Ready or not, Gloria," his voice echoes, a memory. "Here I come."

"Glory, wake up!" a Sokovian voice shouts. "Wake up!"

I sit up straight, drenched in sweat and tears. My hands are out in front of me, and my power has a hold on many objects. Books, lamps, picture frames, boxes. Anything that is loose, I have in my power's grasp. They levitate mid air, waiting for my hand's commands.

I yelp and pull my hands back, releasing the objects to the ground in a crash. I hold my hands to my chest; it heaves under my touch. I can barely breathe. They keep coming out in short, sparatic motions.

I feel a gentle hand on my back, and I jump away from it, literally flying off the bed and into the corner of the room. I face the person who touched me, only to find my sweet Pietro looking at me with concern and fear.

"Glory, it is okay." His hair is a mess, like it normally is every morning, and he is still only in his boxers. The sun is just starting to peak through the curtains. It must be early morning, just at sunrise.

Normally I'd be thrilled at this sight, early morning in bed with the man of my dreams, but today is oh so very different.

Pietro attempts to come closer, slowly getting off from the bed. I hold out my hand, putting up an invisible wall of impenetrable space. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. Just whimpers and squeaks.

Pietro frowns. "Возлюбленная, please let me closer." His voice is gentle and smooth, calming even. "I can help, if you just let me in. I will not hurt you." My breathing slows a bit. "I will never hurt you."

"D-Don't touch m-m-me, please," I whisper, lowering the wall with a wave of my hand.

Pietro puts his hands up and nods at me, moving very slowly to sit on the floor a couple feet away from me. "Is this alright?" I nod, slowly. "Do you need anything?"

I shake my head. "N-No. I'm fine. Just a-a bad dream."

Pietro gives me a sad smile and slowly scoots closer to me, inch by inch, careful not to set me off. I allow him, not putting up walls of empty space or pushing him away.

He's not him. He's Pietro. He loves you. You love him.

Pietro slowly moves his arms around me, pulling me into his arms, wrapping me up in his warmth and love. He sets me on his lap, holding me close, but not too close. We are half a foot apart, but close enough to feel each other's body heat.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, sighing. "What can I do?"

I shake my head, still shivering from the touches from him. I shouldn't be scared of it. I shouldn't back away, but he has forever ruined a lot of things for me. "I d-dreamt about him again," I whisper, closing my eyes while trying to not let my power control me. "It was just as bad as l-last time."

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