#disintigrativeruin

It starts as a clicking noise, coming down the hallway. 

(It’s quiet at first, like someone tapping fingernails, until it becomes more familiar, a clicking of the tongue. It’s almost as though the sound has come first, and then the person, but then there are shoes coming down a familiar hallway.)

His fingers run along the wall, a wall that is familiar as it has ever been. 

(Familiar like the boy with the too curly hair and the mismatched socks because he can’t see them, anyway, a boy that students used to look up to (and some of them still do.) 

It’s been nine months since the boy in question walked these halls. He finds his way easily enough, bringing himself down to the kitchen where he used to sit as a kid, focusing on trying to cook.

[text] Josephine? It’s Cielo. 

[text] I kinda doubt you meant me. 

[text] But there’s a coffee shop in the city I go to sometimes

[ There were many he considered a part of his extended family; those he had first traveled with and the first mutants he had met at the mansion. Each one held a place in his heart.

But then there was Josephine-

                            'Your look just like your Jo!'                             'Are you two related? You look an awful lot alike.'                             'Long lost family?'                            'She could easily be your big sister.'

And it was funny, then, because it had been the truth. A year of those comments before they were jokingly agreeing with them, a simply laugh when people honestly didn't believe they weren't. Six months later, Elliot's mouth slipped up at, 'Hey, sis' when there was no audience around, his hand clamping over his mouth.

But Josephine only s m i l e d and Elliot smiled, too. 

It shouldn't have hurt that bad when he couldn't see her smile anymore, see his big sister whenever he felt like. He should have been more accepting, should of said more when she had left, but all he could feel was the burn in his throat and his fingers pressing into his fists.

It shouldn't still hurt to see her again, but there are fresh wounds on him now, on top of the others. Rayo's death and Cielo's departure had him at a very close ledge, even though he remained in place on the outside. ]

Hello, Josephine.

[ He's not sure what else to say. ]

✉ for an 2 AM text

[text] There’s someone out there like you. 

[text] Maybe there’s someone out there like me? 

[text] Like that student of Josh’s. 

[text] But maybe there’s someone out there like him, too. 

[text] Do you ever wonder? 

✘ for an unsent text

[text; sent to drafts] I’d shove two fingers in their throats and I’d let them fill with water until they couldn’t breathe and I wouldn’t care if it kil

☠ for a threatening message

[text] He wouldn’t agree. 

[text] If you ever see him 

[text] Don’t tell him 

[text] I mean Elliot 

[text] He wouldn’t want me to do that 

[text, unsent] And the Professor.  Please 

❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

[text, unsent] Do you ever think about going back? 

[text, unsent] If I wanted to go back would you go back with me? 

♣ for a drunk message

[as she speaks to her phone to upload text, Cielo’s drunk texts tend to be in perfect English.]