Paint By Numbers
Chapter 9
"Are you ever gonna take that sweatshirt off? Rogue asked, looking at her roommate over the top of the magazine she was reading. For the last few hours, Kitty Pryde had been lying horizontally across her bed, head hanging upside down over the side. Her eyes were fixated on the rays of sunlight that reflected off her mirror and danced through the shadows on the floor as she unconsciously sucked her bottom lip. "You've been wearin' that thing for two days straight. It's gonna smell," Rogue warned.
"It already smells. It smells like him," Kitty responded, hugging her arms tightly around her stomach.
"That wasn't the kind of smell Ah was talkin about," Rogue said dryly, watching her friend's attention drift back to the shiny spots on the hardwood floor. "You know, if you like Peter enough to never want to take his ratty old sweatshirt off, you could actually go see him, instead of doing something stupid, like reverting back to your old ways of hidin' in your room and hopin' he doesn't come knocking."
"I'm not hiding," she told her, and Rogue was surprised at the dark, level tone of her voice. "Remember how I said that I needed to solve my own problems?" Kitty asked, in a slightly softer manner. "Well, last night I think I finally figured out what's wrong. And I know how to fix it, but it's something I really don't want to do. I'm just trying to work up the nerve," she explained somberly, sounding a little scared.
Rogue frowned. "Good luck with that," she muttered, confused at her roommates vagueness, but deciding it best not to pry.
Kitty sighed and pulled herself back onto the bed and turned over so she was lying on her stomach. "Do you remember when we first found out Peter was moving in?" she asked Rogue wistfully.
"Yeah, you were mad because there was gonna be another X-Baby to share the bathroom with. Then you found out the new teammate was gonna be Colossus and you wouldn't stop babbling about how great he was," she reminisced with a small laugh.
"Please. All I said was that he seemed kind of nice. Then you started yelling at me about how "spendin' five minutes battlin' mechanical statues under a pyramid in a foreign country isn't a good basis for sound character judgment, Kitty. Ah've known Gambit for weeks now, and all he seems is kinda annoyin'," she repeated, trying her best to imitate Rogue's southern accent.
Rogue threw a pillow at her, trying to hide her amusement. "First of all, Ah do not sound like that. And second, you didn't say he was nice. Ah believe your exact words were something along the line of "Peter's wonderful," she sighed, mocking her friend.
"He is, isn't he?" Kitty asked as she played with the string from the sweatshirt's hood, wrapping it tightly around her index finger in a criss-cross pattern until it was numb from lack of circulation.
"That's what Ah keep telling you!"
"No, you said Peter was bad and that I should be careful with him," she reminded, unwrapping the string and examining the "x" shaped imprints it had left on her skin.
"What Ah said," Rogue told her, "is that you have to watch out with the Acolytes. Regular folks, they already betray you enough, ya don't need to go and put your faith in someone who's already proved themselves to be untrustworthy. They'll just break your heart." she told her quietly and evenly, her eyes downcast. "But that was a long time ago. And Petey, well he was never a real Acolyte, was he?" she reasoned, trying to ignore Kitty staring at her, a searching look in her wide, expressive eyes.
"You know," she said finally, "that's kind of a strange thing, coming from you. Don't you, of all people, believe in second chances? I mean, It's not like you were exactly considered trustworthy back in the beginning."
"Then maybe I should include myself in that statement," Rogue bristled.
Without hesitation, Kitty put the sweatshirt's hood over her head and let the oversized sleeves fall over her hands before getting up and hugging her friend tightly around the neck, careful to turn her head to the side so there was no risk of contact with Rogue's skin.
"Kit!" she complained, before briskly patting her three times on the back. "You can let go now."
She grinned wickedly. "Bet you wouldn't say that if I were Remy."
She took a deep breath, trying to summon her strength and calm the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she rang the doorbell. But whatever inner composure she fooled herself into believing she had disappeared the moment the peeling, battered door opened and she found herself starring at a familiar pair of brown eyes. "Kitty! What a nice surprise!" he told her, but something in the tone of his voice and the look on his face made her feel like he wasn't too shocked to see her, as though he had been expecting her to show up.
"Hey, Lance. How are you?" she asked softly.
He grinned smugly at her "Fine. I knew you'd come around. Do you wanna come in?" he invited, opening the door wider and stepping aside to make room for her. From the hallway she could hear the television blaring from the living room, and the sound of the Brotherhood bickering among themselves.
"If you don't mind, do you think we could go somewhere a little less...crowded?" she asked.
Lance nodded. "No problem," he said, shutting the door without a look back. "Come on, hop in the jeep. I'll take you anywhere you want to go," he told her as he opened the car door for her.
"It doesn't matter. You pick. Just somewhere quiet," Kitty told him as he backed out of the driveway.
"You got it," he said, making a left at the intersection. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat quietly, staring out the window as they drove through Downtown Bayville. "So....Did you get my gifts?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, they were really nice. Thank you. But you know you didn't have to," she said gently, careful not to mention that he shouldn't be spending money on things he couldn't afford.
"I wanted to," he explained, glancing at her. "Besides, it was worth it. After all, I got you back. "
Kitty gave him a resigned smile, then turned back toward the window.
Peter was by the lake, as she knew he would be. It was their spot. He was standing near the edge of the water with his back towards her, skipping rocks across the lake, watching the ripples spread then fade into the inky blue water. In the dim light of evening Kitty could see the faint outline of his open sketchbook lying forgotten on the ground. She picked it up and studied the last picture, a charming sketch of his home in Siberia complete with the snowcapped mountains he loved in the background, all of which had been crossed out by angry, dark strokes of charcoal. She looked up to find Peter watching her, a indecipherable expression on his face.
"Sorry, I should have asked first. Do you mind if I look at these?" she said, holding up the sketchbook.
He shrugged and threw another rock in the lake.
Kitty gingerly flipped backwards through his most recent sketches, careful not to smudge any of the thick charcoal strokes. On the first page there was a drawing of Illyana sleeping peacefully as she held the stuffed dragon Kitty let her borrow. She looked at the date in the corner and realized Peter had started it days ago, probably while she was asleep next to him on the Blackbird. She flipped the page backwards and found herself starring at her own portrait. He had drawn her with a shy, blushing look on her face, and the corners of her mouth were turned up, as though she was just starting to give in to a smile, although it was hard to make out the details. Despite their beauty, Piotr had scribbled over both the sketches, as he had done with the drawing of his farm, with the same dark, angry strokes.
"Peter, these are gorgeous. Why did you cross them out?" she questioned, looking remorsefully at his ruined pictures.
"In the end, they did not feel right, did not fit. They felt...lost," he told her slowly, struggling to find the right words to express himself in the language he didn't always understand.
Kitty closed the book and put it back on the ground, joining him by the edge of the lake. He had run out of rocks to throw and was starring intently across the water, as though he was searching for something off in the distance. She followed his gaze, wondering if his attention was transfixed by something she couldn't see, if his artists eyes were able to find some haunting beauty to the lonely landscape before them, where she saw nothing but the ordinary hazy outline of trees reflecting in the water. Or maybe he simply didn't want to look at her.
"So I went somewhere today," she told him quietly.
"Oh," he said, his distant tone masking his curiosity.
"The Brotherhood House."
Without a word, he turned to walk away. In his mind, those three words had confirmed every one of his fears, justified every single insecurity. He had to leave. He didn't want her to see how she had broken his heart.
"No, wait. Listen," Kitty pleaded, grabbing his hand. With his strength, Peter could have easily pulled out of her grip, but, in spite of it all, his resolve to leave vanished the moment her hand touched his. So he gave in, allowing her to draw him back and stood silently, with no expression on his face. " Listen," she repeated, still clinging tightly to his hand. "When I broke up with Lance, I hurt him, and I hated myself for it. So I agreed with whatever he asked of me because I was weak, and I didn't want the guilt of hurting him anymore then I already had. But what I did wasn't fair to you, or to me, or even to Lance. And in trying not to hurt him, I ended up hurting you."
Kitty looked down, unable to meet his eyes, but her grip on his hand tightened.
"I don't love Lance, Peter, I never really did. But I promised him. I gave my word, and I couldn't go back on it. Because if I did, how could I ever expect you to trust me? How could I ever be able to respect myself? But as long as I kept it, Lance kept hanging on, kept thinking there was still a chance for us. So I went over there today to make sure he understood what was I felt, and to ask him to let me out of that stupid promise."
If Kitty had been watching Peter, she would have seen a glimpse of surprise flicker in his eyes and his stoic expression soften after her last comment. Instead she kept her vision locked firmly on the ground below her, struggling to get her words out, determined not to stumble along the way.
"It wasn't easy for either of us," she continued. "There was a lot of screaming, a lot of anger. He told me no. He was being stubborn, and I was being too careful of saying something that would hurt him even more. But he just, he wouldn't give up. In the end I finally had to tell him everything. About us, I mean. You and me. About how I feel about you. And he finally understood that he didn't have a chance. He had to let me go," she finished, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she remembered the pain she had caused Lance that afternoon, and the wounded, resigned look on his face as he released her from her promise.
Peter pulled her into his arms and held her close. Kitty rested her head against his chest, feeling the rapid beats of his heart that contradicted the calm, soothing manner he stroked her hair, and the slow, sweet way he murmured softly to her in Russian. In his arms, she felt a sense of calm come over her, like the kind of lazy bliss you feel when you wake up all snug and cozy in your warm bed on some chilly idle Sunday, knowing that you can stay snuggled up warm in the sheets for as long as your heart desires. And in time, in the comfort of his embrace, her tears of guilt changed to tears of relief, until, finally, they subsided.
"Katya?" Peter asked tentatively, afraid of spoiling the moment.
"Hmm?" Kitty muttered, raising her head from his chest.
"It really is over between you? You are no longer bound to him?"
She nodded. "Lance is out of my life for good, and I can be with whoever I want."
"You look scared" he said quietly, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face, leaving his hand hovering a breadth away from her skin, as though he was afraid she might take all she had said back.
Kitty placed her hand over his, and he allowed her to close the distance and push it the rest of the way to her soft cheek. "I am," she whispered, her warm chocolate eyes never straying from his loving sapphire ones. "But I don't care."
Peter lightly caressed her cheek, his eyes staring as intently as her own. "Then it is alright if I do this..." he trailed off, lifting her gently off the ground so their lips could meet.
For Piotr, their kiss evoked more euphoric sensations than he ever dreamed were possible to feel in a single moment. Joy and passion, tenderness and love, but there was something else; a strange sensation, something familiar but... lost. His mind searched desperately, trying to place it, and from the depths of his mind an old memory found it's way to the surface. Back when he was only a child, long before his sister was even born, his family would all climb into their old, rickety truck and drive for hours to the nearest metropolis for supplies. Their parents would let the two boys explore the city, and Mikhail would run all over, trying to take in as much as he could before it was time to leave. Piotr tried his best to keep up with his big brother, but he was too young, and the city was too much. When his family would meet back at the truck, Mikhail would beg his parents to let them stay longer, but Piotr would climb into his spot in the back, exhausted by their little adventure. No matter how hard he fought to stay awake to watch the rural farmlands pass by through the dusty truck windows, he would fall soundly asleep in the first hour, oblivious to all the bumps and potholes along the old country dirt roads that threatened the peaceful, innocent serenity of a child's slumber. But somehow, those last few familiar bumps and turns as they entered the drive always found a way to reach him, to stir his heart. No matter how deep the sleep, how vivid the dream, he felt, instinctively, that he could wake up. That he was home. And though it was a place he had never been to before today, he had that feeling again. In his heart he knew that in holding his Katya in his arms, in being able to kiss her soft, tender lips and feel her warm, gentle hands at the back of his neck, he was finally home once more.
They broke the kiss and held one another, finding solace in each other's arms. "You know I was wondering, what did you say to convince him?" he asked, resting his mouth against her forehead.
"I told him how I felt about you. No, that's wrong. I- I told him that I love you" Kitty said shyly.
Peter kissed her again, this time deeper, harder, more passionately. "I love you as well, Katya," he told her sincerely, taking delight in the beautiful smile that lit up her face. "So...Are you still scared?" he asked her playfully.
"Oh yeah. Absolutely terrified," she said with mock certainty.
"For certain?" he asked with a grin, wondering whose smile was bigger, her's or his own.
She giggled. "The phrase, dunce, is fer shure," she muttered, trailing off as they moved together for another kiss.
A/N: First off, I have to give the proper people their proper credit so they don't sue me and I'm forced to give up the $1.41 and the lint covered green Skittle I found in my jacket pocket. Actually, my boyfriend sadly thought it would be funny if he ate the Skittle, so now I'm back to just the $1.41. Anyway, the line "Peter's wonderful" comes from Uncanny X-Men Annual 4 and "You look scared.", "I am. I don't care.", "For certian.", and "The phrase, dunce, is fer shure" all come from the very very wonderful Uncanny X-Men 174. It's chalk full of fluffy Kiotr adorableness and Maddie punches Scott in the face. What more could you want?
Moving on, this was the Paint By Numbers penultimate chapter. The next one will wrap everything up, including the Romy storyline from Chapter 8. I'm still thinking of a future fic sequel, but If I do that I really want to get everything outlined and prepared so it doesn't fall apart halfway through or take as long to update. And preferably that one will have a slightly less crappy title.
And of course, I saved the best for last. The best being the reviewers, of course. You guys are the only reason besides my obsessive fixation on Kitty and Peter that I keep writing. Thank you for your reviews! They fill my life with sunshine. Just like the yellow care bear. Thanks to:
alygny
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The Uncanny R-Man
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ishandahalf
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You guys are the greatest!