The Crush
by Unanon unanon@yahoo.com
Summary: X2 Movieverse, Siryn POV Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Everything is Marvel's Archive: Anyone who asks. Notes: Siryn/Peter.
He was her first crush. Unobtainable, distant, kind to her in a friendly big-brother way that she both craved and despised because she wished for more. Her romantic nature imagined that he was everything she wanted, flaws and all. Her voice would crack while talking to him, embarrassing her and bringing a smile to his lips. "It's alright," he would say, "you're still adjusting to your mutation. In time you will learn control." She wanted to believe him.
It fascinated her to watch him practice. Muscles would ripple beneath his flesh and for a moment he would be like any guy you see on television, vamping it up for the camera on some MTV Spring Break special - only without the shaving cream speedos. But then he would change and she could see herself in his skin, a distorted reflection recognizable only by a shock of red hair. She wanted to touch her reflection. She wanted to comb her hair in his mirror-chest every morning of her life.
He never noticed her. He never singled her out for special attention of any kind, no matter how many falling stars she wished on or how many dandelion heads she blew into the wind. She paid Artie and Leech to search out four-leaf clovers that she'd press between the pages of her romance novels and fairy tale books until the spines cracked.
She thought about him at night, listening to the breathing of her roommates in the dark. She wrote bad poetry in her diary then ripped out the pages and burned them in the kitchen sink the next evening whispering her favorite lines to herself as she watched the pages curl into ash.
She stopped talking to him. She stopped seeking him out, but she could never stop watching him from the corner of her eye in the lunchroom. She hated that she couldn't stop watching him, that she was so aware of his every move. She knew his habits, his class schedule. She hated that her feet would automatically move toward the den where he would sketch in the evenings, laughing with his friends, never looking her direction. She hated the attention, exaggerated in her own mind, that he paid to Kitty and the others.
She imagined that his indifference was because of her voice, her mutation. She wondered if her lack of control frightened him. He had watched during practice as she bounced her voice off metal rods; they would vibrate like tuning forks. She knew she could shatter steel with her throat someday if she wanted to. If she really wanted to.
He started spending a lot of time with Jubilee. She spent more time in the gym humming to the equipment. One day she'd be ready.
Summary: X2 Movieverse, Siryn POV Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Everything is Marvel's Archive: Anyone who asks. Notes: Siryn/Peter.
He was her first crush. Unobtainable, distant, kind to her in a friendly big-brother way that she both craved and despised because she wished for more. Her romantic nature imagined that he was everything she wanted, flaws and all. Her voice would crack while talking to him, embarrassing her and bringing a smile to his lips. "It's alright," he would say, "you're still adjusting to your mutation. In time you will learn control." She wanted to believe him.
It fascinated her to watch him practice. Muscles would ripple beneath his flesh and for a moment he would be like any guy you see on television, vamping it up for the camera on some MTV Spring Break special - only without the shaving cream speedos. But then he would change and she could see herself in his skin, a distorted reflection recognizable only by a shock of red hair. She wanted to touch her reflection. She wanted to comb her hair in his mirror-chest every morning of her life.
He never noticed her. He never singled her out for special attention of any kind, no matter how many falling stars she wished on or how many dandelion heads she blew into the wind. She paid Artie and Leech to search out four-leaf clovers that she'd press between the pages of her romance novels and fairy tale books until the spines cracked.
She thought about him at night, listening to the breathing of her roommates in the dark. She wrote bad poetry in her diary then ripped out the pages and burned them in the kitchen sink the next evening whispering her favorite lines to herself as she watched the pages curl into ash.
She stopped talking to him. She stopped seeking him out, but she could never stop watching him from the corner of her eye in the lunchroom. She hated that she couldn't stop watching him, that she was so aware of his every move. She knew his habits, his class schedule. She hated that her feet would automatically move toward the den where he would sketch in the evenings, laughing with his friends, never looking her direction. She hated the attention, exaggerated in her own mind, that he paid to Kitty and the others.
She imagined that his indifference was because of her voice, her mutation. She wondered if her lack of control frightened him. He had watched during practice as she bounced her voice off metal rods; they would vibrate like tuning forks. She knew she could shatter steel with her throat someday if she wanted to. If she really wanted to.
He started spending a lot of time with Jubilee. She spent more time in the gym humming to the equipment. One day she'd be ready.