Disclaimer: Own nothing. Not Anna Paquin, not Aaron Stanford, not the X-Men franchise or its 3 movies.
AN: This is so short I don't even... Post X-3. And it was supposed to be the first chapter of something but I lost the original and this one never came out the same.
The faint smell of cigarettes draws him outside, away from the comforting heat of the fireplace.
His fingertips are the first to grow quickly numb, but he ignores the ache when he discovers the culprit of said smell.
"John," she goes, because his face must be already blue. He smirks, just a hint of it, as her bare hand hovers close to his.
"Your boyfriend did quite a number on me," he murmurs, bitter.
She shakes her head just slightly. "He's not mah boyfriend." And he stays still at her neatest trick, when her warmth floods toward him.
His eyes are closed and he doesn't remember doing that.
"Don't stay out here too long," is all she says, then, throwing an almost affectionate glance over her shoulder.
Almost as if she cares that his immune system is screwed up to hell since freeze-boy decided to try and turn his arms into ice.
It's best if he doesn't dwell too hard on that, so he does the absolute opposite.
He finds a cigarette on the railing and brings it to his lips, closing his eyes again for a few moments before he heads inside.
And it's not like he's following her. Or whatever.