Haph·e·pho·bia

This is a notice to all my followers:

They’d had one of their fights not a month before.  Not a month before, she’d told him to go to hell…again.  How many times had she done that at this point?  More than she could count.  However, one mission went wrong and she was reduced to this, one of the minds from the mutant she’d touched clinging to her like a bad dream, infecting every thought, every waking moment….enough to terrify Anna Marie into slipping into his room at an hour that most would deem far too late.  She couldn’t breathe.  Every draw in was labored, heavy, like she couldn’t quite manage around her own throat.  Her hands clung to the wall, and she could distinctly feel each muscle shaking.

Jesus, she sounded terrible. As her legs gave out Remy sat up, already half out of the bed. This…this wasn’t just some night terror or emotional break. No, he knew the signs, he’d seen them before. Anna had touched somebody. Her skin had met theirs, and for longer than could be explained by an accident. Which meant she’d likely done it intentionally. Which meant a fight. Which meant everyone involved had already been emotionally charged, which always made it worse.

Her words just confirmed his guess. By the time she’d finished talking Remy was already up, pulling the sheet off his bed and dragging it over to wrap it around her as he picked her up. He all but cocooned her in it, even pulling part of the fabric over her head like a hood before carrying her to the bed and laying down with her. The sheet would keep any accidents from occurring - and handily also kept her arms pinned to her sides to prevent too much unconscious flailing - while still letting him hold her, giving her something to focus on.

She let out a noise as he finally cocooned her in the blanket...sheet....and then clung to her.  The way he held her meant that she was unable to move, which was probably a good thing.  His voice was one of the ones that was the loudest....In her head, that was.  His voice, darker than the one that whispered near her ear.  She struggled up from the sea of melding minds, her hazel eyes turning to him, head shifting just a little bit closer.  He smelled....kind of like bourbon and gasoline....a touch of something more....sharp, and Brick Dust.  She blamed this on his free running habit.

They’d had one of their fights not a month before.  Not a month before, she’d told him to go to hell…again.  How many times had she done that at this point?  More than she could count.  However, one mission went wrong and she was reduced to this, one of the minds from the mutant she’d touched clinging to her like a bad dream, infecting every thought, every waking moment….enough to terrify Anna Marie into slipping into his room at an hour that most would deem far too late.  She couldn’t breathe.  Every draw in was labored, heavy, like she couldn’t quite manage around her own throat.  Her hands clung to the wall, and she could distinctly feel each muscle shaking.

She was in luck. Not a month before, Remy had left the school as he always did after they’d had a serious fight and headed for parts unknown. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going or when he’d be back; he never did, especially after Anna had broken things off again. But as fortune would have it, he’d just gotten back in that evening, slipping in through the window of the room kept aside for his use and keeping to himself. At least, until his door opened at a ridiculous hour and he looked up to see Anna going to pieces mere feet from his bed.

“I ain’t...”Came the hoarse whisper, knees collapsing beneath her, arms barely managing to absorb some of the impact as she simply rested.  There was no way she could get back to her feet.  She couldn’t.  It was impossible.  The voices swirled around her head, screaming like angry spirits, enraged by the new timbre that rose the most clearly to the fore...trying to push his way forwards.  Anna knew she only had a tenuous hold on control, and that was why she looked up, hazel eyes desperately searching for Remy’s own.  She needed some kind of anchor, and fast.

"Don’ need t’change t’do dat." Remy smirked, tossing the towel onto the chair. He had little care for modesty, even at a school, and really as long as the important bits stayed covered who cared what he wore to swim? The only thing that might hold him back were the scars that lay hidden beneath his clothing - scars that weren’t anything new to her, but that no one else save perhaps Logan and Ororo at the school had ever actually seen - and with Anna inviting him to go swimming…well. He could get over that.

God, he looked good with his shirt off.  A small grin curved over her lips and she studied his figure....every scar, every line, and she knew them.  However....seeing him in just those boxers made her grin, and then giggle softly.  Her hand moved to take his, slowly, delicately.  Their first true skin on skin contact and it made her heart jump in her chest.  Electric.  She let her body slowly stand, showing off just a bit.  Every lithe, muscled inch of herself....all his, and he knew it.  However, as soon as she was up, her hand pulled away from his, “Y’damn right I wanna swim Lebeau.”  And with that, she was in the ppol.