Prompt: irenehogan-blog The awkward conversation when Lorna asks what their relationship is and Marcos asks her if she wants to be his girlfriend. Lorna teases him and says no.
Warning: Angst ahead.
"Can I ask you something?" They're laying in the bed that they seem to frequently share, in the exact same room—its Marcos' room really, but half of Lorna's items are in his room and not in hers, there's her frequently used moisturizer on the dresser and makeup on the vanity, the smell of her oft used perfume hanging in the air, her panties and bra drying in the toilet from their afternoon romp in the shower and a whole stack of clothes jumbled in-between his own in the cupboard.
Lorna hums, tracing circles on his bare chest.
"You do know that those questions don't often end well, don't you?" Marcos raised an eyebrow at her, her head pillowed against his shoulder, their legs tangled together, bodies sweaty from their previous round of sex.
"Mhm." He mumbles, his nose gently grazing her throat. "Still. What are we?"
"What do you mean by what are we?" His arms are suddenly empty as Lorna sits up abruptly, her eyebrows creasing together.
Marcos stares at her sudden response.
"Well, as in, are we—"
"Putting a label on whatever this thing that we have is?" Lorna's muscles are bunched together, tense and wary, and Marcos simply stares openly at her.
"Yeah. I mean, we're practically living with each other." He chuckles. "Half of your things are in my bathroom and—"
"Marcos. We're just fucking. You know, friends with benefits?" His face freezes up abruptly, and Lorna fidgets, her chest seizing at his suddenly blank face. "I mean, we don't have to put a label on this, right?" She manages a nervous laugh. "This is just for fun."
She nearly flinches as he stays silent, his eyes searching her own hazel ones for something, before they fade away, because she can't look at him in the eyes, and she's looking everywhere but his liquid brown irises.
"Right." Something in her chest stutters as he waves off his own question, turning to pull on his boxers, then his pants.
"Wait, where are you going?" Her fingers reach for his arm, and she stares as he pulls his own hand out of her grip. "Are you really being serious right now? Why are you even—"
"I was just going to settle something I forgot." He interrupts her plainly. "You go sleep first. " Lorna can't shake the feeling that she's done something very wrong—because as he turns his back, it doesn't feel like he's coming back, it's more like a goodbye that she doesn't want to acknowledge at all.
"Wait, Marcos!" She's left staring at his back as he doesn't even turn back to listen to her calls, and the bed stays empty for the rest of the night, cold and suddenly unbelievably hard.
And so she stays up the rest of the night simply waiting for him to come back in after all the lights go out.
He doesn't.
And her night passes almost without any sleep.
….
Then slowly, he starts avoiding her during the day, and then came the slowly disappearing items from the bedroom they used to share.
Lorna would find herself looking for another toothbrush on the sink where his usually was but not finding it, or trying to find out of the cupboard her favourite flannel shirt of his that she likes to wear but not finding it anywhere.
It's like he's slowly retreating out of her life–and she's too stubborn to admit that it actually hurts.
They've been together for a year, without any labels, just falling into bed with each other, staying overnight, and sharing glances and smiles at lunch, holding hands as they planned their next mission—and suddenly there's nothing anymore. Marcos stands at the far end of the table when they talk, his place no longer at her side but at John's, and she hears that he's crashing in John's room, on the small crumpy sofa that can't be comfortable for him. She notices, because he cracks his neck more often than he should, and stretches as though to loosen out his body when they see each other in the mornings.
And there's this empty hole in Lorna's chest that gapes and threatens to swallow her whole, like a shark that has opened it's maw to devour it's latest victim, and she can't help but spiral into the familiar darkness of her mind as she curls up alone in their bed–no, now her bed at night.
It takes a toll on her, the dark circles beneath her eyes, her gradually uncontrollable lashing out both during missions and off missions, and Lorna can feel John and Sonya's concerned gazes on both of them respectively.
But she's not talking to him first, because it just isn't cool for her to seem weak and break first.
If anything, Lorna believes it should be him that comes to seek her out first, instead of the other way round, and this toils on for a month, then the next, until Sonya calls her out on her bullshit.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She'd been a royal bitch to Marcos this afternoon, snapping at him rudely at the meeting, and shooting down every suggestion he's made, the loneliness and hurt morphing into anger that's directed at him—because he isn't supposed to leave her all alone, and she stares out of the window with blank eyes and folded arms, Sonya glaring at her from the corner next to her.
"Nothing's wrong with me."
"Oh yeah? Then tell me, since when have you progressed from a girl to a grade A bitch? Especially with Marcos?"
"That's none of your business."
"Did he do something wrong? Because if he did, I'm so gonna tell Johnny and he's so gonna get the biggest trashing of his life."
"He didn't do anything wrong." It's almost instinctive to defend him, because hell yeah, Lorna knows deep down that the one in the wrong isn't Marcos, but her, and Sonya narrows her eyes slightly, reading her body language.
"Don't tell me you were the one that did something wrong." She immediately shies and flinches at the statement, a reflexive action that she can't seem to help, because as unfortunate it is, it is the brutal truth. "Oh my God. You did do something wrong!" Lorna doesn't know if she's happy at her friend's sudden exuberance as a problem solver (well, a relationship problem solver). "So tell me! Maybe I can help."
"I…" Lorna stares a little helplessly at her best friend, quite at the loss of what to truly say. "Well, Marcos asked me a question one night after we, you know—"
"Oh, you mean right after you guys fucked each other?" Lorna hisses at that statement, pressing her finger to Sonya's lips. "Oh come on. Everyone here knows that you two are humping each other. As if the Northern Lights and loud impossible to block out moans don't tell us what you two have been doing in almost every part of your room."
She actually flushes at that, her cheeks heating up fondly in the memory of their more heated moments. It sends a pleasurable jolt to her stomach, and shot of desire shooting through her body.
"Hello? Hellooooo? Earth to Lorna Dane?" Sonya snaps her fingers in front of her. "So he asked you a question. Let me guess, it was the question to what you guys were to each other, wasn't it?"
Lorna's mouth drops.
"Are you psychic apart from being able to manipulate memories?"
"No, I just know that there's nothing else more that freaks you out like this when someone asks you to commit to a relationship. Your abandonment issues are a huge red light for that, you know." Sonya crosses her arms and tilts her head at her. "Anyone with the right mind can figure out that you're too scared to commit yourself solidly to a relationship. That's what chased him away, didn't it?"
"I…" Lorna mumbles weakly. "I didn't mean it like that! And he shouldn't have left—I mean, I told him that we were doing just fine without a label, and so why was it even necessary to put a label on–"
"Lorna Dane, that's because that man right there loves you. He loves you right from the bottom of his fucking heart that everyone can tell and see with their own bare eyes. Whatever your response was, it told him that those feelings, they're not reciprocated. That's why he's choosing to leave, before you break his heart even further." Sonya untucks herself from the wall. "You really fucked up big time this time, Lorna. Because it's not just he who likes you, you actually love him back too." She paused slightly. "You're just too scared to admit it." Sonya tilts her head slightly in Marcos' direction again. "Think about it, and do something about it before you regret."
She turns abruptly and storms off, leaving Lorna all alone.
…..
Lorna doesn't act upon Sonya's advice immediately, because she's an extremely stubborn person right from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and she hates being wrong.
But it's a torture watching Marcos smile and laugh with everyone else, especially with other girls, because there's this low possessive growl in her chest that screams mine Everytime he directs that charming crooked grin in their direction, and Lorna has half the mind to actually storm into the bathroom where all the girls were one day, and give them a warning to back off her man—but the irony is, he really isn't hers inspite of what she feels, because she's all but pushed him away with her own two hands.
But Lorna's resolve finally snaps when she walks in on Marcos and the newest mutant girl they just rescued kissing and fondling each other in the corridor almost outside the Headquarters, where there's little to no privacy.
Heat surges to her cheeks and head, her nails digging hard into her palms as tears sting in her eyes, and she can't believe that he's doing this to her, because it fucking hurts like he's just punched a hole in her chest and flipped her inside out.
"What the fuck are you two doing here?" She plays it off cool as she crosses her arms and stares the girl down, leaning slightly on her right leg with her weight to give off an intimidating stance. The girl squeaks. Actually squeaks with terror, and Lorna's proud to know that if she's so scared just by a stance, that girl is definitely not Marcos' taste.
"Shoo. Run along." She's nasty to the point where even she herself knows it, but she can't help but stare as Marcos runs his fingers frustratedly through his hair.
"What the hell are you playing at, Lorna?" He mad at her, and suddenly she's mad at him or ignoring her and everything else that she pushes him to the wall and crushes her lips to his in a bruising kiss.
Her fingers curl in his shirt, pressing and seeking and she's hoping so hard that he kisses her back, and when he actually doesn't, her cheeks burn with the rejection as she pulls away, the sting in her eyes now apparent, her chest too tight for her to breathe as she drops her hand from his chest.
"Lorna." He tries to talk to her, but her ears are ringing, and she's suddenly so scared of what humiliating words he might say to her that she turns and flees, crashing like the freight train she is through the forest behind their headquarters.
Tears are running down her face, but Lorna doesn't care at the moment, because she knows that she's lost Marcos entirely with that stupid refusal to acknowledge that they could have been something more that night when he asked her the question. Hell, she hadn't even let him complete his question that night, and just like that all his affections for her are gone and there's no way that she can turn the clock back. She doesn't even heed his frantic calls for her through the forest, and she slides down the tree trunk to curl into herself, and let's those ugly tears wrench themselves out of her chest as she admits what's she's always been running from all along—the fact that she's madly and irrevocably in love with the one and only Marcos Diaz.
But she's realised it and stopped running from it far too late, because he just isn't there waiting for her anymore.
….
He finds her, shivering, wet and cold in the darkness of the forest, her hair plastered to her cheeks and rain in her hair, and he's also wet to the bone from chasing her, his eyebrows knitted together in a tight but worried frown as he stared down at her, sitting on the muddy floor of the forest.
"There you are." The sigh in his voice is almost relieved, and Lorna can't help but push herself up sluggishly. She can't really think with him around now, because looking at him makes her heart hurt way too much. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"You didn't need to." She croaks, her voice is terrible from crying, and her nose stuffy.
"Well, I wanted to." The answer he gives her nearly makes her laugh shakily through her tears, and she hesitates slightly before taking his offered hand. She wobbles as she stands on her feet, the crying having drained almost all the energy from her body when Marcos scoops her into his arms, bridal style, barely making any effort to heft her. A familiar warm glow lights his palms and glides over her clothing, and she's toasty and arm, tightening her fingers against his wet flannel shirt, her head pillowing on his shoulder as she leans into his embrace.
"You didn't have to run from me you know." He's quiet when he speaks, and warm enough to make her feel unbelievably secured. "What made you run?"
"I don't know." She is lost, but Marcos is anchoring her to reality, and the only thing she's aware about is how much she missed simply being in his arms, her nose pressed against his skin and him warming her gently with his powers. "I missed you." She blurts it entirely out of context, and feels the chuckle rumble lowly through his chest.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I missed you too." His lips barely graze her forehead. He's still keeping his distance, attentive because he loves her, but guarded because she's hurt him, perhaps beyond repair.
"It does." She's suddenly too quiet in his arms, and Marcos has to frequently glance down at her to really make sure she's there. He can tell that she's nervous, because she's fidgeting, and playing with her fingers, which she normally doesn't do unless she's feeling emotionally insecured.
"Do you have something to say?" He decides to take the initiative this time, because she's like a kitten, too scared to make the first step, and he smiles when she relaxes slightly in his arms.
"Yeah. Yeah." She breathes out like a sigh of feathered relief. "Did I..did I hurt you?" The frown on his face was back immediately, but his footfalls still steady through the forest, the rain beating down on them but impossibly warn because of his hands and fingers.
"Hurt me on what?"
"Well…that night you asked me about being your girlfriend." Her voice is so tiny and insecure as she clutches onto him tightly, as though scared he's gonna let her go the moment they enroach that subject.
"Oh that." He's totally unbothered by the subject, and it makes her both angry and confused. "What about it?"
"Seriously?" He looks amusedly at her.
"Well I guessed from your reaction you didn't want anything more, and because I was..uhm..having more feelings for you, I decided to be more considerate and stay away and give myself some time to get over things. You know, by having other girlfriends and stuff—"
"But I want to." Her response is so tiny that Marcos didn't nearly catch it.
"Wait. What?"
"I said I want to." Lorna swallows slightly, her nerves getting the better if her till she takes a deep deep breath and let's everything that she's wanted to say to him out of her chest. "I want to be your girlfriend, to hold your hand, sleep next to you, have cuddles, and—" She flushes as he stares at her heatedly. "You don't know how jealous I was watching you with those girls." She glanced up at him openly, eyes wide. "I wanted to rip them off you and then stake my claim that you are mine."
A wide grins spreads across Marcos' cheeks till it almost hurts, and he drops Lorna gently on her two feet to the wet forest ground.
"Well, I'm not refuting your claim." He chuckles, his arms encircling her waist gently. "And I'd like it if you'd give me the permission to kiss you again." A smirk is plastered all over his face as he tugs her forward and she yelps, and suddenly Lorna's back is pressed hard against the trunk, and Marcos' lips is on hers, bruising and yet unforgiving. His lips and his tongue occupy her mouth, and Lorna can only gasp for air as he pulls away aggressively from her lips, her eyes hooded and mind dazed from the mind-blowing kiss.
"How's that for a kiss?" Lorna can't even think straight as he growls lowly into her right ear, fingers sneaking under her shirt to skirt her pale cold skin, leaving delicious trails of warmth dancing from his fingers to her, and pooling in her navel with a simmering pit of desire.
"Uh." She's at a blatant loss of words for once, and it's a nice change as she simply tugs his shirt urgently, her fingers slippery, cold and wet against the heated muscle of his front. Marcos hissed at the contact, and she smirks, regaining a bit of her bearings as she smashes her lips to his once again.
Their Aurora literally Sparks colourfully around them, before rising into the air, shattering the dark night sky with a beautiful array of colours. It's beautiful, twisted but yet so so perfect and so—them that Lorna pulls apart from Marcos' lips to soak in the moment and look at the vibrant colours in the night sky.
It's almost as though nature and phenomenon itself was agreeing to their relationship. Marcos buries his face in her neck and chuckles, and she sighs as she reclined against him, more completed than panicky at the sense of familiarity and love that swells in her chest that she finally accepts, spilling over into her heart and eyes as she cups his face and resumes their heated kiss.
Well! I hope I carried over the angst just well enough :3 I apologise for updating on so belatedly. I actually write these prompts on my phone, and I have the tumblr app, so its so much easier to post there. But the point is, I don't really get constructive feedback or interations with my readers down there, and WHEW, I do need lots of prodding and pushing in certain directions with regards to my writing. So do feel free to shoot me a review down here! I would LOVE to read and look through it! So far I've got 3 reviews (THANK YOU FOR THOSE REVIEWS) I've read every one of them and replied to the best of my abilities :3
I really hope all my readers enjoy the prompts I've made and written thus far.