Fracture || Xmen

9

The chatter of the dining hall envelops me with its familiar sound. Although I haven't actually eaten in it since my first day in this mutant playpen, I find myself already accustomed with the soundtrack that's always accompanied my dining adventures.

"So, what war do you think should be our focus on the project?" Leo's voice intrudes on my semi peaceful thoughts just as I stuff a french fry in my mouth. He's watching me as I eat, earnest eyes like a kaleidoscope of autumn leaves—brown orange and soft amber— lock onto mine from behind those gold framed glasses, conveying a sincerity that seems almost out of place in a cynical world like mine. I give him a hardened stare, the urge to use my fork as a projectile weapon growing stronger as he waits for my reply.

Rolling my eyes, I retort, "I don't fucking know, how about World War III?" The sarcasm is there, wrapped in a layer of feigned ignorance, hoping he'll take the bait and deem me too stupid to work with, leaving me in my preferred state of isolation.

I resume to eating my second burger as he pauses, his smile wavering as he processes my words. The light in his eyes flickers, not dimming but sharpening, as if he's peering into my soul, seeing the gears turning behind my ruse. Instead of admonishment like I was expecting, he chuckles, a sound that's both annoying and endearing as those dimples imprint on his cheeks like they've never left. "Quit messing around, Loren. We really need to decide on a topic soon," he presses, leaning in slightly, earnest gold painted eyes being widened to the point where he really does look like the human equivalent of a golden retriever right now.

With a heavy sigh and a roll of my eyes, I shove another fry into my mouth, relishing in the crunch more than the conversation. "Look, it's your grade on the line here, you pick," I grumble dismissively, washing down the fry with a gulp of Coke. My statement isn't just flippant—it's steeped in a deeper truth that he, nor anyone else in this freak asylum knows. I have no plans to stick around this circus; by the time this project is due, I'll be long gone, having ditched this carnival of the mad to seek a semblance of normalcy everywhere. Even though I wouldn't dare step my foot in Vermont currently, I would much rather take my chances there than spend another day in this madhouse.

A flicker of confusion crosses Leo's face, his brow furrowing slightly as the implication of "your grade" seems to resonate deeper than intended. His eyes, an intricate weave of golden hues, seem to dance with unasked questions. His pink lips part slightly, maybe to call me out on the subtle but significant distinction in my phrasing, but his inquiry is cut off.

"You trying to run from us, pretty boy? Haven't seen you all day," a voice booms from behind Leo, filled with a natural charm and a hint of mischief. He strides over to where Leo's sitting, grabbing his shoulders in what can only be deemed as a boyish embrace.

His eyes, a striking light jade that glimmers with a mischievous glint, cross over to me. Full lips are turned upwards in a flirtatious smile that reveal a row of perfectly white teeth that almost sparkle in the lighting. It's not hard to tell that this doofus is used to girls fawning over his obvious good looks.

"And who's this stunner? You replacing us already, Leo?" His tone is teasing as his eyes give me a once over, lingering a second too long on my chest, which is covered by a black turtleneck and some variation of a black hoodie I've worn everyday since my first day here.

Hot anger sears my insides as I lean in, giving this asshole a glacier melting glare. "Keep gawking, Shrek, and I'll rearrange your face to something even a mother couldn't love." My voice drops to a venomous hiss as that cocky smile drops off his face, but he quickly recovers with a condescending smirk to replace it.