@rcsputinaa
He hardly remembered falling asleep. These days, though he still didn’t sleep much, sleep came easier than it used to. Perhaps that was why he was in the state he was in currently-- like a fog was covering his brain. But only for a moment. It was just a beat resting in the air for him to recognize what was in front of him.
Everything was white. And cold-- but was he really feeling the cold? Was his brain just telling him it was cold? Snow. It was snow. He had to be cold. It was snowing, so he had to be cold. Gambit was never one that was fond of snow and cold, but after... A certain point in time, he grew to loath it even more than one should. He liked to think he was over that part of his life-- he didn’t feel such hatred for the cold, and that wasn’t far from the truth. He was better these days. But... Some things you just can never fully get over.
In truth, the area felt... Familiar. He knew this place. And the feeling of dread that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was also an all too familiar feeling. There was a scene in front of him that plain and simply told him what this was. It was a memory. It was the day of his trial. Where the sins of his past came to light. A younger version of himself-- still in his twenties, kneeling in the snow, dropped there by the woman he loved. At the time, at least. A terrible thing to recall, and he swallows the lump in his throat, only to realize-- he wasn’t alone.
“--Illyana. I think we runnin’ inta each other a lot more often in this place, yeah?” Cool and casual. Ignore the scene. Yeah. That’ll make it go away.
