PETER MAXIMOFF IMAGINES

6: Ten Things About You

Three things about you: One, your favorite book is Dune by Frank Herbert. Two: plaid skirts, sweaters, and tights are the only things you wear. And three: you despise parties. 

Yet, your friends had somehow managed to magically forget that last one - even though you had reminded them countless times in the past few hours - and had dragged you to a party. And when you say dragged, you mean dragged. When you came home from work you were already dressed to go out, so you knew that gave them the one-up, that only left the option of lying on the floor and making yourself as heavy as possible. Your plan didn't deter them to the extent that you hoped it would, and one of them simply hoisted you up over their shoulder and threw you into the car. And yeah, you know that lying on the floor and making yourself heavy is what three-year-olds do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Currently, you were sitting in the back of the large room trying your best to turn invisible (if your mutant roommate could do it, so could you). Why not just get up and leave, you ask? Well, you see, your previous escape attempts had been squandered due to your friends who were watching you like hawks. Apparently, you "never get out enough" and your "lack of social activity is concerning". So, here you are, being forced to enjoy a party. 

You sighed as you looked around the room that was filled with drunk teenagers - even worse, drunk teenage mutants. You knew that it was only a matter of time until someone did something really stupid. So, once your friends were distracted, you slipped out of the room and were met with a grandiose hallway littered with oil paintings. Earlier, when you pulled up to the mansion, you had some hope that there would be a library you could sneak into, but you hadn't had the chance until now to explore. Suddenly, now that the door had closed and the music faded, you found yourself enjoying this party.

You walked along the hallways and staircases, gazing up at the paintings and statues and ornate artifacts. Your search was only met with door, after door, after door. The mansion felt infinitely huge as you searched and were met with no luck. There had to be someone else who was avoiding the party who could help you... 

Continuing your search, you could hear the sound of music echoing from further down the hallway. Once you were closer, you realized it was Pink Floyd, and your interest in the person listening to it piqued. The warm gleam leaking out from underneath their door was the only guide you had apart from the music. Ever so slowly, you stepped up to the door and readied yourself (Fourth thing about you: You're awful when it comes to talking to people you don't know). 

You knocked lightly on the door, you were hoping that it would be too quiet for them to hear and you could just leave because, "Oh well, you tried". But that wasn't the case. You heard the music stop abruptly, and a whoosh before the door was opened and you were met with a pair of brown eyes and silver hair. Taking a moment, you looked over the person before you. And you had to admit, they were fit, really fit. They cleared their throat and your eyes snapped up to meet theirs.

"Like what you see?" He said with a smirk. Fuck. (Fifth thing about you: You're even worse at talking to people that you're attracted to).

Words weren't forming in your head, so you cut to the chase, "Do you know where the library is?"

He tilted his head (and you were reminded of a puppy), "The library?"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Why do you want to know where the library is?"

"This is a party, right?" You said skeptically. He chuckled and you couldn't help but smile.

"Okay, I'll show you where the library is." And with that, he flicked his light off and stepped out of his room. You fell into step with him as he led the way through the dark mansion. You weren't sure what to say... maybe I should thank him? You thought to yourself.