Erik died in Mystique's arms, the last life he asked her to take. His
unconquerable will trapped in ailing flesh. She'd wept when he asked, but
hadn't refused, would not allow his dignity to be stolen.
Now, as always, she was at his side. She stroked the white head in her lap, dark fingers spread against his sallow cheek.
He murmured something; fingers trailed down her slick face. Everything said in that touch.
Fingertips were soft against his throat.
She snapped his neck.
IHope/I, no one had called her that before.
His body was still warm.
No one would again.
Now, as always, she was at his side. She stroked the white head in her lap, dark fingers spread against his sallow cheek.
He murmured something; fingers trailed down her slick face. Everything said in that touch.
Fingertips were soft against his throat.
She snapped his neck.
IHope/I, no one had called her that before.
His body was still warm.
No one would again.
