Hi, guys! I'm back! Finally took the time to finish this out even though it's sort of a filler.
The next chapter's halfway done now, so expect a new one soon ;)
This chapter's more like a memory, an insight of Poppy's history. I know how sucky it is to read a filler but I'll try to hasten the plot from now on. It seems rather slow moving, doesn't it?
So, I'm really glad you guys loved the previous chapter! It was so so so satisfying to see the amount of reviews I've received. If you have a question or anything I can improve on, drop me a comment, I'll reply you for sure :)
Many many thanks :)
summerinlove, Obscure Stranger, KitchenCupboard, night-star-93, Envision, Alice B. Cahill, PadmeKenobi, Haley Tran, lilyoftheval5, TheMagiciansGrace, Gio, juli 8D1819, Engage Ellen, X .xMay-Babeex. X, HuesOfGreenx, xXthe. , actressen and cakeface 3
Disclaimer: I don't own any character/plot from the movie you recognize. But what I do own is my characters and everything else regarding them.
love,
A torrent of colourful profanities, one that would have put even the foulest of sailors to shame, flooded Poppy's mind.
Her shaking hands gripped the broken and abandoned baseball bat in her hands tightly, cringing whenever broken splinters from the wood pierced into the soft skin of her palm. A draft of cold night breeze sent a chill down Poppy's spine, causing her to tremble even more, as perspiration beaded on her cold forehead.
She cursed again.
If only she had taken the normal route home just now. If only she had listened to what her grandparents had always told her about the back alley route. If only she did not want to rush home for a slice of her grandmother's homemade strawberry meringue pie.
If only she wasn't so bloody stubborn.
Then, she wouldn't have had to fear for her life that was now at the mercy of the gun in the man's hand.
Her green eyes, now darkened slightly by the dim of the quiet back alley's light, stared hard at the two figures before her - one sobbing and the other snarling in menace. The girl, not much younger than Poppy's age of 18 cried hard as she was pressed against the dirtied wall by the arm holding onto her neck. Her face was white as a sheet and her form trembled visibly, even in the dark.
The scurrying of rats among the heaps of trash was the only sound in the loud silence. This was precisely the reason why Nana Elia had reminded Poppy time after time about avoiding the back alley way home even though it was a much faster route. The deserted area was commonplace for numerous cases of mugging, murders and rape. It was even said to be haunted, by the souls of those whose lives were being snatched away right in that stretch of dark road.
"Let – let her go," Poppy's demand came out in a soft stutter that was amplified in the silence of the empty backstreet.
A loud snigger came from the mugger as he threw Poppy a careless glance. "Go away, little girl."
A sharp tinge of annoyance rose up somewhere in Poppy's chest and bubbled furiously in her blood at the belittling tone in his voice. If there was something that could challenge her famously known saint-like patience, it was the idea of being underestimated.
The insinuation that she was a weak, useless female because she felt she was absolutely nothing like that.
She hated being belittled.
She hated it with a raw passion.
Growling, Poppy took a step forward. Her patent shoes thudded loudly against the wet cement ground. "I said let her go."
The cocking of the gun in the man's hand was her only sound reply as his face turned towards the side to glare at her. An expression of the deepest annoyance was etched deep into the gruff features of his stubbled face.
"If ya know what's best for ya," He snarled menacingly. "You'd turn away right now and run for your life."
Instead of giving the man a verbal reply, Poppy took another small step forwards. Her feet planted firmly on the ground, even though her hands were trembling under the possibility of getting shot by the man who was now pointing the gun right at her chest.
Since he was having none of the 'tough girl, no nonsense' attitude, Poppy decided to go about getting him to stop what he was doing.
Taking a deep breath, Poppy took another step forward. The man, now truly aggravated by her interference slapped the girl who he was holding onto before throwing her onto the mountain of trash in the corner roughly. A piercing cry of pain rang out through the silence, causing Poppy to cringe at the sheer terror and pain in it. The man turned towards her fully and held out the gun with both hands.
"Stand back." He warned and placed his forefinger onto the trigger. "Or I'll shoot."
"You don't want to do this." Poppy placated, her voice now dropping into a mere whisper. "You know you don't want to."
The mugger was now shaking visibly as Poppy took another step towards him. "I SAID FUCKING STAND BACK!"
Poppy halted in her steps under one of the flickering wall lights and nodded her head, pacifying the distraught man. The glow of the light cast harsh, sharp shadows on the planes of her graceful features and lighting her eyes up into an amber shade.
"Sir, please." She beseeched. "Drop the gun. You know you don't want to hurt us."
Her eyes stared unflinchingly into the man's dark orbs as they stared right back. Poppy's eyes watered painfully, but she held on; not blinking, not moving and barely breathing.
She was afraid that should she blink, the spell would have broken, and the man would have killed her in a single second with a simple pressure on the trigger. Just like that.
A sharp prick of coldness pulsed in Poppy's temple, sending a numbing yet cooling sensation sweeping across her forehead. The watering in Poppy's eyes stopped and cleared soon after, leaving her with perfect, unaffected sight that had been blurred from the unshed tears before.
"Please, drop the gun sir." She whispered. A pathetic whimper came from the girl cowering among the trash. "Please."
As though under a trance, the man's armed hand slackened, and slowly but surely, he was lowering it, leaving it hanging limply beside his body. Then, the grip of his hand on the armed weapon dropped, letting the gun fall to the ground with a loud clatter.
"That's right, sir." Poppy said, not once looking away from the man's eyes. Their gazes were locked into a silent battle, which could easily be broken should any of them looked away. 'You know you don't want to do this. You don't want to hurt anyone.'
As she said those words, Poppy's feet moved towards the gun and kicked it far away from the man, sending it into one of the trash bags against the wall.
The man nodded his head curtly. A blank expression had taken its place on his face, wiping away any look of menace that had been carved deep into his features minutes before. "I don't want to do this."
Poppy nodded in agreement.
'Go home,' The placating tone in Poppy's voice was now gone and replaced by a sharp, commanding force. 'Go home and forget about all these.'
Once again, the man nodded his head. His eyes still as dark, as unfocused and lifeless as before.
'Go.'
With that last sharp order, the man turned his head to the spot just pass Poppy's shoulders, as though there was something there – something mesmerizing, something enthralling, something like a prize. His right foot took a step forward, towards the invisible target, then his left, and his right again; until he was walking pass Poppy, out of the dark alley and out of sight in a monotonous march.
With the man gone, the frigid tingle that had sought refuge in Poppy's head had ebbed away as well, leaving her befuddled and confused about what had just taken place.
Had she really managed to convince a man, one who had been cocking a gun at her and threatening to shoot, to drop his weapon and go home?
It was illogical.
Impossible.
Absurd.
That was, until a memory – one involving her Nana and her – broke though the mist of confusion and jumped out at Poppy's subconscious, providing a solid explanation as to what had just taken place.
It wasn't illogical anymore.
It was no longer impossible or absurd.
Because she was just like her mother.
Shaking her head, Poppy turned to the whimpering girl who was still cowering against the trash heaps, as though she had just remembered she was there. She gasped sharply at her inconsiderate nature and rushed towards her, throwing the bat she had been holding to the side carelessly.
"Are you al – "
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!"
Poppy's arms that had been stretched to offer the girl some help in standing up froze in mid air at her hysteric scream. The girl scurried away from Poppy frantically as though she was a horrible disease, a wild animal or a ferocious monster.
"W-what?"
"What are you?" The girl cried as she gripped the openings in the wire fence behind her tightly to help herself up, ignoring Poppy's proffered arms.
Once again, Poppy's vast knowledge in the English language failed her.
"What?"
"Y-You made him walk away." The girl whispered, now staring at Poppy with accusing eyes. "You made him do these things without talking to him."
"What are you talking about?" Poppy's heart raced. "I was talking to him! You heard me!"
The girl shook her head fervently and seemed to tremble more than ever. "All I heard was you telling him to drop the gun…"
"Look, I think you're in shock. Do you need me to call the amb – "
"Your eyes… Your eyes… they went black." The girl muttered. "They went black and back to normal and they… they turned black again."
Poppy took a step towards the girl again and held onto one of her arms. "Here, I'll take you ho – "
"I said stay away from me!" The girl cried and recoiled against the dirty brick walls. An expression of utmost fear was clearly displayed on her pale face. "You… You freak!"
Poppy recoiled at the hostile word that fell from the girl's quivering lips. Her arms fell back to their original spot beside her body as she simply just stood there and gaped at the girl. A sting, a small burning and arduous pain strike Poppy's heart like an arrow hitting the bullseyes. It was a pang of ache that surpasses all superficial wounds Poppy has ever experienced.
She had saved her.
Poppy had saved the girl from the potential of getting hurt, terribly hurt by the man.
And yet she was calling her a freak – a monstrosity of her own kind.
Like an anomaly. Like a white albinal lion. Like Victor Hugo's character Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
A freak.
As Poppy was stunned into silence and immobility by the single word that still seemed to reverberate through the still night air, the girl took that as an outlet for her escape. And so, with a hard push against the brick wall, she took off. She ran away in a flurry of blue fabric and blonde hair and panicked, stuttering steps. She sprinted like she was escaping from a feral animal or a merciless and untamed monster, like her whole life depended on getting away from Poppy.
It hurt.
It hurt more than Poppy could explain to see a girl like her running away from herself because she thought she would hurt her.
Because she could do things normal people couldn't.
She knew now, why her parents had made her promise, made her swore not to tell anyone about her ability.
They were just trying to protect her.
'And now I have to protect myself,'
The bitter memory faded into an empty, dark void as Poppy regained awareness of her surroundings. The dark of the old, back alley melted away into the empty school courtyard; the two figures in the vivid flashback now transformed into two men, both with brilliant blue eyes.
Her temples tingled again and black pupils dilated once more.
'You don't know what you're talking about.' she pushed, determination coating her words thickly. 'You don't who Poppy Hathaway is.'
The man, Charles Xavier, as he had introduced himself in an attempt to avoid her question stared right back at her, his brilliant azure eyes transfixed on her like a cat eyeing the cream.
The pupils in Poppy's jade eyes dilated once more as inky blackness covered her iris and the white of her eyes for a split second, before returning to their original size silently. 'You're going to walk away to your car and drive away. You're going to go home and forget about everything you've just said and saw.'
Charles blue eyes glinted in the dim light of an overshadowed sky.
Then he smiled – a bright, genial grin that stretched from one rosy cheek to the other as straight, white teeth gleamed between his lips.
Poppy blinked, and the spell was broken.
"I'm afraid it'll be hard for me to forget about everything I've just said and saw, Miss." Charles declared, the beaming smile now replaced by a charming smirk. "You're pretty unforgettable, see."
"What the…"
'You have your tricks, Poppy, and I have mine,'
The young brunette took a step back in utter surprise, consternation and incredulity at the sound of his warm, affable voice resonating in her head. A small, sharp gasp escaped her gaping pink lips as a million jumbled thoughts whirled through her mind.
"You… you talked." She uttered, taking another step back, this time in uncertainty. Poppy looked between the two, confusion clouding her green eyes. "In my head. How?"
"Because I'm like you." Charles replied patiently and turned to Erik, who had been watching the exchange silently. "Because we're like you."
Poppy took another step backwards.
They were like her.
They had abilities like her.
They were different too.
A sudden thrill flushed through her body, coursing through her bloodstream like the aftereffect of downing a shot of good, old tequila. Her heart thudded against her chest at the idea that these two people standing in front of her could do abnormal things like her.
As excited, as she was to meet her own kind, however, she was still cautious of them and their intentions. She had never met anyone who was unique like her before. And now, out of the blue, these two men stood in front of her.
Quite clearly, they had been looking for Poppy.
She narrowed her suspicious green eyes at the two like she did before. "What do you want with me?"
Both Charles and Erik seemed taken aback by the sudden guarded resonance in her smooth, soft voice. They had obviously not anticipated such a wary reception from her. It was a far cry from how she had dealt with her student when they first saw her.
"Is there anywhere, perhaps, where we could speak privately?" Charles asked as he glanced around at the open space surrounding them.
"I don't think so," Poppy retorted obstinately, crossing her slender arms across her chest. "How would I know if you two wouldn't try to hurt me?"
"What a paranoid little creature." Erik muttered with a dramatic roll of his cold blue eyes. Impatience was rolling off of him in waves and it was obvious that Poppy's stubbornness was the cause of his aggravation.
Poppy scowled up at him.
"You'll just have to trust us on that." The telepath replied, blatantly ignoring what his friend had commented. His eyes shone bright and were brimming with honesty. "It is of the utmost importance that we find somewhere away from prying ears or eyes. Please."
Just as he had said that, another pair of footsteps came to a stop just outside the school's entrance.
"Is everything alright, Miss Poppy?"
The nasally voice of one Andrew Smith called out from behind Charles and Erik as all three of them whirled around to face him.
"Oh… Andrew," Poppy faked a smile at the creepy math teacher.
Andrew eyed both Charles and Erik accusingly as a deep frown found a permanent refuge on his chubby face.
"They seemed to be bothering you…" Andrew pointed out. "Are they bothering you?"
Poppy paused.
Were they bothering her?
If she said they were, Andrew would force them to leave her alone before ushering her into the safety of the school compound then offering to give her a ride home (like he always does). But if she said they weren't, she would have to go along with two male strangers to hear what they had so desperately wanted to tell her.
And quite honestly, Poppy would rather hear what the two blue eyed (and good looking) strangers have got to say than to spend fifteen minutes in Andrew's old, mouldy and crusty ride.
She had accepted his offer for a ride home once, and like people always say: Once was truly enough.
Shaking off the image of the thousand and five germs infesting the vehicle, Poppy shook her head fervently in reply to Andrew's unanswered question.
"No, no. I promise, they're not." She said with a smile. "These are my uh…" She trailed off, unsure if it was appropriate for her to refer to the two strangers as her friends. "My acquaintances! Yes, my acquaintances – Charles and Erik."
Erik shot the young woman an amused smirk as his dark brow rose once again to mock her.
"We're just about to leave actually. Some catching up to do, y'know?" She gave a rather nervous chuckle.
Charles nodded in agreement, sensing the art teacher's discomfort. "It's best that we get going now, Poppy." He gave the silver chrome watch sitting on his wrist a gentle tap on its glass clock face. "Time stops for no one."
Pleased with his ability to play along with her, Poppy sent Charles a thankful smile, ignoring Erik for he had simply stood there to observe the situation like it was a daytime drama. She then turned to gather the remaining bits of trash left on the bench, before starting the walk back into the school so she could gather all her belongings.
"I'll see you in school next week, Andrew." She said, passing the math teacher, sparing him a short glance and a quick smile. "Have a good weekend now."
And with that hasty goodbye, Poppy turned and continued on her wake back to her classroom as Charles and Erik trailed behind her, silent but providing a very solid presence at the back.
"Sounds like a creep," Erik commented gruffly, breaking the silence, when he turned back to see Andrew staring after the three of them forlornly.
Poppy nodded in agreement. "Looks like one too."
"I have to say, that man is having some rather inappropriate thoughts right now."
"What?" Poppy froze in her hurried steps and inclined her head towards Charles curiously. "What kind of thoughts?"
Charles coughed into his hand awkwardly and looked away from Poppy's inquiring gaze. "I'm afraid it's too embarrassing for me to even say it – "
"Humour me."
A short pause followed before Charles coughed once again.
"He uhm, he loves the way you speak his name." Charles replied albeit hesitantly. Erik smothered a chuckle from beside him at his flushed face. He was obviously enjoying watching the telepath squirm. "And that uh, he wishes he could spend the weekends with you, in his be – "
"Okay!" Poppy interrupted again with a quick wave of her hand. "What a lovely story! Let's just get out of here, shall we? Great!"
And with that, the brunette turned away from the two and continued on her brisk walk, but not before allowing Charles and Erik to catch a glimpse of her glowing red cheeks.