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( s. summers ) worry

GENRE: fluff ! concern !
WARNINGS: it kind of sounds like it's referencing self harm, but its not. but this is a trigger warning anyways.
NOTES: requested by EAP_Raven i hope you like it (and sorry it took so long) ! idk, i think you wanted it to be about him already knowing, but ??

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Training with someone as fast as Peter was really challenging, but at the end of the day, he was the only one that could keep up with your powers that wasn't Jean.

He had the gift of speed, but you could mess with his mind, making the fight easier. More often than not you could influence him with your words and your telepathy, but if worse came to worse, you'd create illusions. They could be massive, and were known to be incredibly believable and downright confusing; but they took a lot out of you, so you usually didn't do it (nothing too spectacular for too long, anyways).

Changing into your normal clothes after practice, you were surprised to hear a, "Shit! I didn't mean to walk in . . . I'm sorry!"

You turned around to see Scott with his face turned away from you, his neck and face growing to be a soft pink colour. You weren't too angered with him about it, given that it was a mistake, and that you were in a sports bra and jeans when he walked in.

"Its okay, Scott," You assured with a smile. He was cute for getting all flustered about it. At least it told you that he respected you and your privacy. You grabbed your shirt from the bench and slipped it on as his eyes fluttered back up to you.

His eyes caught on your midriff for a second, and at first, you thought that he was checking you out with the way his eyes lingered, but after you pulled your shirt down properly, you could see the cogs turning in his brain. That's when you realized.

His lips parted to say something, but you stopped him before he could, your hand out as you took a few steps closer to him. "It's not what you think," You promised, watching carefully as he only looked more worried and confused than he was initially, moving closer to you, too.

"Then what . . . ?" He asked, eyes meeting yours behind his ruby glasses with a certain emotional intensity you weren't expecting. He looked so concerned, that you couldn't help but look away. He reached out a hand, as if afraid to touch you, like it would hurt you. Eventually, his grip came to rest delicately on your arm. You returned your gaze to meet his sympathetic one.

"It's a part of my power," as you said it, you kind of felt ashamed. Usually, it was something you didn't care about, and accepted it pretty quickly; but the way it concerned Scott, that made you feel bad about it.

"What do you mean?" His eyebrows drew together as his hand dropped from its hold on you.

"When I was younger . . . my parents found all these scars on me that were coming from nowhere, and kept on appearing and appearing. It wasn't until they found at that my imaginary friend wasn't so imaginary, that they connected the dots," You explained. Scott looked like he was finally beginning to understand. "Every time I exert myself too much while using my powers, a scar appears on my skin," You concluded.

He looked shocked, almost more so than before, "Then why do you use them? You shouldn't have to go through that just so that we can have one more person on the team."

Your heart warmed at his words, and the way he sounded almost annoyed with himself for letting you do that - despite not knowing a few minutes before. "Its okay, Scott. I promise," You told him, and then it was your turn to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing it softly. "I've known about this for so long, and I've accepted it for what it is, and the consequences. At the end of the day, it is worth it, and I'm going to go on doing it. I don't mind my scars . . . in fact, they remind me that I'm doing good."

Not sure what to say, Scott contemplated your words. After a few moments he let out, "How many do you have?"

"I lost count a while ago," You admitted softly. They littered most of your back and stomach. It raised a lot of questions and worries, but once it was explained, most people understood. After so long of seeing them in the mirror, you'd learnt to embrace them instead of hate them like you did in the beginning. Sometimes new ones hurt, but you almost found them to be beautiful at that point.

You weren't too sure why you didn't ask Scott before. He was one of your closest friends, and you shared a lot with him. You guessed you didn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Okay . . ." He nodded, realizing that he probably shouldn't make it a big deal. You began to slip your arms around his neck with a growing smile, and, okay; now was probably a time to play it off nonchalantly. That's what you seemed to want, and Scott didn't often argue with that. "Does the Professor know?"

"Of course. And Ororo, because we share a room. She really loves them," You tilted your head, feeling Scott's arms drift daringly to your hips, thumbs lifting your shirt slightly so that he could feel the risen skin of your scars.

"I have to agree with her there," He admitted, eyes drifting down to the marks on your hipbones.

"Mmh?"

"You're effortlessly beautiful, you know? This is just one more thing that adds to that," His tone was sweet and genuine, and your heart couldn't help but grow just a little bit bigger, and your cheeks just a little bit redder for Scott.

"Thank you. Now, are you going to stop worrying," You asked him, your one hand running through his hair slightly.

"Whatever you want."