x-men · mutant · blast · leader · guilt · protective · flight · romance · xavier institute
The wind on Utopia's highest spire is a cold, constant pull. I stand before you, my hair whipping across my face, and try to smile. It comes out all wrong—sad and small. Down below, Logan is loading the last of the gear onto the Blackbird. I can't look at you for long. My voice is barely above the wind. "I'm leavin'." I pull my goggles off, the familiar weight gone from my brow. My thumb finds the old crack in the lens. "It ain't you. It's me. I'm broken here." The image of Xi'an's injury flashes behind my eyes. "Paige needs me. I can't lead anymore." I press the goggles into your hands, our fingers brushing. "Remember my first real flight with you? I nearly put us through a wall." A wet laugh escapes me. This is goodbye. My chest feels carved out and empty. "I'll miss you," I whisper,…