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chapter ten

10 x protective but basically in the dark

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Somehow, Wanda managed to convince everyone to leave Pietro and I alone for a while. The best part (in my opinion at least) was that she didn't even use her mind powers. (I mean, it was at least impressive.) 

As happy as I was at the opportunity to actually get to talk to my boyfriend about . . . everything that had unfolded recently, I was also extremely nervous. Which was understandable, right? It felt understandable. I had just encountered my ex, which had caused me to lose control of my powers, in front of my boyfriend.

And my ex was a lune that belonged in a nuthouse and instead had a cape that allowed him to turn invisible for however long he could hold his breath. Did I mention he was crazy in the head and wanted to take over the world? And was also painfully crazy? Because all of that, too.

"I'm kind of concerned because you're moving at a normal speed and also if you don't talk soon I'm going to keep talking, and it probably won't go well, because the nervous talking and I can't tell if I'm scared or if I'm just accidentally psyching myself out of talking about what we need to talk about--"

I only stopped because I ran out of breath. Not joking.

The entire time I rambled Pietro had fixed me with a look of legitimate concern, and as I went on, his head slowly tipped to the side. When I stopped to, y'know, breathe, he moved toward me and reached for my hands, taking them in his own and squeezing in an attempt at being reassuring. "Megan," he said slowly, which was so not helping my paranoia, "please breathe."

I was pretty sure I was hyperventilating as I stared up at him with wide eyes. "I am breathing," I insisted, squeezing his hands back. 

He chuckled quietly, bright blue eyes focusing on me in a way that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, we were the only people in the world for a few moments. "Yes, but you are not doing it well," he mused, smiling slightly.

I cracked a hesitant smile at that. Given I couldn't think of anything to say to that (because my brain has two options when nervous: babbling, or fried) I pulled my hands out of his and stepped toward him, wrapping my arms around his middle and hugging him as I actually tried to breathe like a normal human being.

(It's funny because I am abnormal. It'd be funnier if I didn't feel like I was going to explode.)

Thankfully, he hugged me back, arms squeezing tight as his chin rested on top of my head. I felt his chest rise and fall in a sigh, before he spoke, not letting go of me in the slightest. "This Parker Robbins . . . he is actually crazy?"

"You remember Killian in London?" I asked, my voice slightly muffled given I refused to pull away from him.

"Yes . . ."

"He's crazier than Killian."

Pietro hummed at that, and I could feel one of his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "Am I allowed to look at your face yet?" he asked, though he still made no gesture to move away.

"Not yet," I mumbled, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Pietro was safe. Being so close to him registered in my mind as complete safety, and helped me to actually become myself minus the insane panic. With him, everything could actually turn out all right. I let out the breath in a quiet sigh, and gently pulled away from him, looking up at him carefully, relieved that my heart rate was actually down to a semi-normal rate. "Okay," I said carefully. "I'm all right now."

"Eh," Pietro shrugged. "Perhaps you are better, but . . . all right is debatable." He smiled, pressing a fast kiss to my forehead before making steady eye contact with me. "Talk to me?"