Quicksilver-Peter
Also published on Quotev.
This one has also been edited here!
He glanced at me for a moment before he smiled. The reaction was delayed, as if he took a moment to think about it. Pietro (Peter as movie goers and some know him as) raised his eyebrows when he put the cardboard box back in his pocket.
I was curious about the contents, yes, but Pietro had withdrawn very quickly after I looked at it skeptically and asked what it was. He was also usually quick but this was unusual. Pietro came toward me in a normal pace, carefully closing the distance between us in his technical basement room. "Do you remember when we first met?"
His voice was soft and slow. His brilliant eyes gazed at me eye to eye with a fondness twinkling in his depths. I nodded and couldn't help but smile when I remembered how panicked and alarmed Pietro was when I met him. That smile made Pietro smile softer. "Of course. It's hard to forget your facial expression."
He wanted to chuckle. I knew he did when his lips started twitching but refused to budge. Humor was written across his face as he spoke evenly. "You promised you wouldn't mention that again, baby."
I grinned. "I lied. You won't live that down on my watch, sweetheart."
Pietro rolled his eyes and I knew what he was going to do only moments too late as he started moving faster than my eyes could perceive. I squealed in delight and surprise as Pietro pulled me into his arms and laid me flat on the floor with a soft thud. I was on the ground, standing on my feet with him looking down at me with his arms crossed one moment and laid flat with him hovering over me the next.
My mind flew back momentarily to my memories.
"Pietro! The police are here," The exasperated mother added with a sigh, "again."
Logan and Charles exchanged a glance in front of me. Hank looked at me but I was stuck on the greeting mat. Straight through the middle, a black streak ran through it like a tire that had trouble catching traction or stopping too quickly on the freeway. Only this looked similar to a motorcycle track. What did he do? Bring a motorcycle through? Burn out a bike on his front doorstep for fun?
I followed Logan and Charles but Charles paused after he entered the doorway. He glanced at me and beckoned me to take his place behind Logan. His British accent was a bit heavy as he muttered, "You should go after Logan."
I was the youngest among our group at eighteen. I had been the only student not called back home because I didn't have one and Hank enjoyed processing my powers. Charles used to until he started staring at nothing for hours in his room. He also enjoyed testing and competing with me but that faded soon too.
Logan hated my power. He hinted I would be the other trouble maker beside the mutant we were seeing now in order to help us. However, I felt as if Charles and Hank knew more than I did. Charles had just given that little hint up.
I raised an eyebrow and Charles tried his best to avoid eye contact as he stared and seemed to take notice of every aspect and detail in the room. I huffed, which earned a very priceless grin out of the corner of Charles' mouth.
I moved in a longer stride to catch up to Logan as he headed down a staircase into the basement that had been transformed into what looked like a mixed warehouse. "Wow."
Logan raised his eyebrows when amusement crossed his face. He must've thought I was wowing at what he was watching but I wasn't. I had just noticed the teenager appearing in a blink on either side of the table tennis game, hitting the ball back and forth between himself.
