Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men.
Laura's claws unsheathed with an audible 'snikt' like the cocking of a gun. Julian struggled, trying to get away from Nori, as sparks jumped between them. Laura could smell the fear and anguish wafting off of Nori, but she didn't care. Julian was not hers. Nori had no right to him.
She spun and ran out of the room, ignoring Cessily's startled cry of "Laura!", ignoring the way the scents racing off Julian's skin were annoyance, fear, surprise - but no lust, no care, no desire. It didn't matter that he didn't want Nori, it didn't matter that Nori didn't want him. All that mattered was the burning of pain and anger in her gut, the way she felt like retching or collapsing against the wall.
Her feet carried her into the bathroom, and claws still out, she slashed at the nearest thing - the walls. Cream tile cracked and splintered and rained all around her, gouging into her flesh and soaking her arms in blood. It was a mad dance, a violent release, a way to get out emotions that she had no name for, emotions that hurt.
Finally, she slid to the floor, legs childishly splayed in front of her. Tears were burning over her eyelashes, and she shakily dragged on of her claws across her forearm. It stung, but it helped. It always helped.
The blood dripping from her arms onto her clothes had a certain scent to it, a slight tang of metal and science that marked her as different, and she cut again, this time with more certainty. She needed to bleed away these emotions, get lost in the pain, cut until all the blood dripped out of her body. She knew it wasn't healthy, wasn't good - she'd been told this before. She didn't care.
Sometimes, it hurt more to feel.
She needed to purge.
