ARCHIVED.

for a moment she felt she could linger like this for an eternity, in his arms, united with him as one and not a single care in the world. but they had to return to reality at some point — his nose brushes against her briefly, the softest caress before he pulls out of her, and with that he managed to draw one last gasp from her lips.

then  hands  fall  from  his  face  to  rest  each  side  of  him  on  the  bed,  he  doesn't  move  his  head  yet  irises  still  look  over  to  her  from  the  corners  of  his  eyes  (  lips  remain  pursed,  truthfully  he  isn't  in  a  mood  to  talk,  let  alone  to  refuse,    &    all  it  took  was  a  bad  day.  )    bianca  moves  scott's  head  almost  too  easily,  a  good  sign  to  say  he  wasn't  planning  to  fight  back.

carmines  still  choose  to  not  meet  bianca's,  while  she  inspects  every  single  cut,  to  every  bruise,  to  the  overwhelming  split  upper  lip  that  glares  her  down    ----    she  calls  his  name,  a  trigger  for  his  fingers  to  curl  into  his  bedsheets    .    .    .

he doesn't fight back or resist her embrace — no, despite everything, he let himself succumb to her limited warmth, and just rest against her as she held him. he's not in the mood to talk, and she doesn't want to force him. bianca knows better than anybody the need for silence, to let the quiet seep through one's pores and into their bones. for years, decades, the silence was all she had — at times both a friend and an enemy. scott would open up when he was ready, if ever he was.

it  swirls  around  in  his  gut,  almost  making  him  nauseous,  pressuring  a  tight  feeling  in  his  chest    (  its  phantom  crawls  up  his  throat,  he  feared  words  of  hopeless  forgiveness  would  be  replaced  by  stomach  acid,  should  he  dare  try,  )    but  he  still  aims,    ❛    she  is  still  an  x - man  regardless,  i  couldn't  just  ignore  her    -----    ❜    even  if  i  tried,    ❛    &    i  wasn't  going  to  have  her  homeless  'cause  of  our  history  too.    ❜

each  utter  leaves  a  trail  of  doubt.  a  second  thought  until  it  was  too  late;    should  he  have  said  that  ?    &    summers  swallows  the  doubt  back  down.

there  wasn't  an  agrument    /    the  care  scott  carries  for  jean  was  still  there,  lingering  underneath  the  surface,    &    the  bitterness  of  it  all,  he  can  not  deny  there  is  still  love  for  her    (  a  love  that  wasn't  soft    &    gentle  like  when  they  were  younger    &    naive,  but  a  love  that  causes  a  heartache,  reminder  of  how  the  cruelty  of  the  world    &    it's  humanity  never  wanting  to  grant  them  their  wish,  with  the  gods  hellbent  on  making  it  their  sworn  duty  to  keep  them  apart,  )    all  in  what  bianca  says  was  true,  a  bond  like  that  never  dies.

the clouds above them had broken up and given into a light drizzle, the water beginning to stain their clothes and the humidity forcing a cold sweat to her skin. finally, bianca turned to look at him, hues of jade and chestnut scan his face, the hurt and regret ever so evident despite her inability to even see his eyes. she'd thought and hoped that maybe that would be enough to push her over the edge, to give in and let herself forgive and forget. but it didn't.

“ you won't stop me. ” yet another whisper that, if he didn't stand right before her, scott would not even have been able to hear. of course you wont, but i wish you would, tell me to stay and... bianca swallowed harshly, trying to force down the flood of emotions that threaten to choke the life out of her, and for a moment she saw those past few months flash before her eyes. everything that had happened, everything they had built and worked so hard for — was all of it a lie? did any of it even matter, her putting her heart on the line.

if he looked closely enough, he might've been able to spot a single tear watering her eye, but bianca blinks it away with a small shake on her head, forced herself back to a reality of her drowning in pain. her hand wanted nothing but to reach for him, motion guided by her heart in a wish to reconnect, but her mind refused.