🔥 𝓐 𝖋å𝔫𝖋ℹ𝗰 å𝒅å𝙥𝓽å𝓽ℹo𝒏 o𝖋 Dark Phoenix (𝟐𝟘𝟏𝟡) 🔥
After a dangerous rescue mission in space, JEAN GREY is changed and soon becomes a danger to all those around her. Calling herself THE PHOENIX, she becomes a cosmic entity with the pow...
The spring evening in Westchester County, New York is warm, with a dry, mellow breeze that hints at summer just around the corner.
Activity within the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters has dwindled considerably, with most of the student body either completing homework or getting ready for bed. The older students were allowed a later bedtime than the rest, a perk of seniority it would seem.
Jean and Cyclops are cuddled up on a window seat in the drawing room, with the mansion grounds stretching out under the starry sky visible through the sash window.
Cyclops holds a copy of "Wuthering Heights" in his hand, reading aloud as Jean rests her head on his chest.
She lifts her head and looks up at him.
He stops reading and she smiles, kisses him.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"So many things that you don't even realise," Jean tucked a couple loose hanging strands of his chestnut hair away from his visor, "but I see it all, and it makes me love you even more."
"I love you," he kisses her, "are you sure you're okay? After what happened earlier?"
"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. I think it was just a surge in my psychic power, like a momentary overload. It happens, every now and again."
"I guess I forget sometimes, how sensitive your powers are, how deeply connected to your state of mind."
"What if we were to have our own deep connection?" Jean raised herself up to look directly into his face.
"What do you mean? Don't we already?" he raised an eyebrow.
"I'm talking about a psychic rapport. That only we can access. I can create it like a passageway between our minds, to communicate, share thoughts and emotions, express ourselves beyond the limitations of language and speech..."
"I'd like that..." he nodded.
"Oh, Scott,"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
They kiss again and Jean places her fingers upon his forehead. A column of pink psychic energy radiates between them, like a sparkling bridge that connects them forever.
As the energy disappears, Cyclops' eyes fly open behind his visor, red and wide:
images of Jean flood his mind, some sweet and wholesome, others sexy and seductive, followed by images of him and Jean together; kissing, cuddling.
The dulcet tones of her voice echo in his mind, "I love you, Scott,"
Cyclops blinks and he is pulled back to the present, awestruck by the emotion.
