The man woke up slowly from his dream-filled sleep. A small smile etched perfectly on his handsome face. He checked his watch, had he only been asleep for an hour? That meant two more on the damned plane, and two of the flight attendants kept coming back and hitting on him. One was small and cute, with blond hair and blue eyes, she was nice to look at, as show by the rest of the male population of the plane. He, however, had more important people on his mind. The other was tall and well muscled, with black hair and brown eyes. And, well, he was beginning to freak Pietro out.
The first flight attendant, Stacey, came back and asked him if he wanted anything to drink, and when he ordered a glass of white wine, she smiled and went to go get one, not even bothering to ask if he was old enough. He was, of course, but at the age of twenty-five, it seemed that he'd grown to look much like the statues of Greek gods. Well muscled and handsome enough to be put on the cover of a magazine. It was a close-circuit one, created by a bunch of teens on the beach. Still, it made the sliver-haired man's ego a major boost.
Not that it needed it, that is.
His ego had grown tenfold, and then some since he'd left ten years ago. Ten long, insufferable years without her by his side.
And now he was going back.
Had he been asked ten years ago if he'd go back for the reason he was, the answer would have been simple. He would've laughed in your face, given you a wedgie and run off. Long gone were his teacher torturing days, though he continued on with a steak of pure unpredictability and wild behavior. Now he was the teacher dedicated to pass on knowledge. More than that, he was going to teach at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Somehow Summers, or Principal Summers, had gotten a hold of his number and asked him to and teach. Becoming an X-man was always an option. Please, he'd said with a roll of his eyes. Then ole one-eye mentioned Rogue, and Pietro caved on one condition. Rogue couldn't know until he'd gotten there.
What would his friends think of him now?
He pulled the Time magazine from the leather briefcase, which he'd placed earlier under his seat. She was on the front of it, though not as an important figure (even if she was extremely to him) or model (which she could have easily been). Instead, it was just a photo taken by a bystander. She was flying, Pietro had to look at it several times before he believed it, and punching the head off a robot at least fifty times her size. Luckily, her face wasn't showing or else her life outside the mansion was shot. The picture was under the title "Mutant: A Danger to Us All" and he'd almost burned it, except she was on the cover, and he'd not seen her since that night so long ago.
He sighed and looked at his watch, an hour and a half. Stacey came with his wine, and Pietro had taken it without a smile. He sighed and drug a hand through his hair. A thousand questions ran through his mind quicker than he could catch them all. What does she look like? Can she control her powers? And most importantly.
Did she wait for him? Even after so long?
God, I hope so.