X-Men Imagines

22| Warren Worthington III - Come Back

"reader-chan can control dark matter and that's how her family died and is always depressed and angry. She distances herself from people because she doesn't want to hurt anyone. But Warren gets too close and she loses control and hurts him and she has liked him for a while and despite Professor X telling her to stay she runs away and when Warren gets better he goes looking for her."

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Curled up underneath an itchy blanket, you were trying to get some sleep. Alas, every time you would close your eyes you would see Warren's lifeless body lying on the ground. The memory was so fresh in your mind that every time you would think about it, in all these details, you would feel yourself fall deeper into the abyss. You hated yourself so much for hurting him. And you hated yourself for always being so angry and depressed. Some days it felt like those two feelings were the only ones you could feel.

It had not always been like that though. Even after you killed you parents on accident, you managed to be happy again. With him.

You were not exactly sure how it had happened; how the two of you had became so close. Mainly because ever since you had enrolled in the school, you had always been very careful not to get too close to people. At one point though, you and Warren became friends.

You would see him every day, eat with him and spend most of your free time with him.

Sometimes, you would wonder if it was because you had both lived difficult experiences, seen things that others would not even have been able to apprehend. That, maybe, your traumatic lives had created an invisible bond between you making the two of you understand each other perfectly.

And it was probably this perfect understanding you had that made you start to develop strong feelings for him. That and the fact that he would be funny and charming and in the days before the accident, more forward with you. So much so that you had quickly realized he was having feelings for you too.

And it scared the hell out of you.

You remembered the exact day, one week ago, when everything went south. You had been talking in the living room with Warren. It must have been 10 P.M because most of the other students had left, leaving the two of you alone. As you were sitting on the couch, lost in his blue eyes as he was talking, you could perfectly remember feeling happy and like a normal teenager. But then, he stopped talking and when he locked eyes with you, he did what you had not expected him to do.

He had leaned over you to kiss you.

His lips had only been a few inches from yours when you had witnessed him being pushed away from you and crashing into a bookshelf. It had taken you a few seconds to realize you had been the one doing that to him.

Startled by his gesture, you had projected a force-field around you, throwing him away with such strength the entire wooden bookshelf had been broken by the impact. It took you a few more seconds to get up and ran by his side.

Unconscious, and surrounded by books, blood was pouring from the back of his head, where he had hit the bookshelf, and a long shard of glass was stuck in his right arm.

Professor McCoy had stepped into the room only seconds afterward, alarmed by the sound; he had asked you what had happened as he was taking care of Warren. But tears streaming down your face you had been unable to answer. His lifeless face now haunting you next to your parents' ones. You stayed crying at the same spot long after they had taken Warren to the infirmary. The Professor X had come to see you, saying Warren would recover, that you should not be too hard on yourself, but it was too late. You had hurt a person you deeply cared about, again.

It had been a week since and you had taken refuge in a decrepit warehouse a few miles away from the school. You did not know what you were going to do. Maybe stay there forever. Your powers were too dangerous to cohabit with other people.

You rolled over, making the blanket fall off the hard mattress. You shivered; it was freezing. But what was even the point of getting the blanket back. Did you really wanted to stay here, alone, forever?

That's when you heard it. A voice you would have recognizes everywhere.

His voice.

You sat on the old mattress and stared at the entrance of the warehouse and there he was, on the doorstep, staring at you. Your angel.

Your brain froze as he walked toward you. You were so happy to see him, standing. He was fine. You had not killed him. But at the same time as he stopped in front of the mattress, you realized you did not want to hurt him again and for that you needed him to go.

Before you lowered your eyes, you glimpsed a bandage wrapped around his arm where the shard of glass had cut him and felt guilt takes over your body.

"I stayed in a similar place before." His voice echoed into the old warehouse making you met his eyes.

He put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, staring at you. Your voice was hoarse when you asked him:

"Why are you here?"

"To bring you back. When I woke up two days ago, Professor X told me you had left. I've been looking for you ever since." He stepped closer and sat on the mattress, making you back up, only to find the wall pressing against your back. Your knees pulled against your chest, you stared at him as he asked you: "Did you run because you knocked me out?"

You almost snickered before correcting him: "I almost killed you."

"You didn't." He slid closer, making him sat in front of you, a few inches separating his chest from your legs.

"Don't come closer." You warned him but he did not listen.

"Come back."

"I'll hurt you again."

"It's a school, you'll learn not to." He raised his hand, probably to take your hand in his, but when you flinched he let it fall on his thigh. "I won't let you run away again."

"Why not?"

"Because you're too important to me." This time, he grabbed your hand before you could flinch. You froze, afraid to see him get catapulted again, but nothing happened. Warren was looking deeply at you, his blue eyes searching for yours. "Every time I'm with you, the only thing I want is to hold you in my arms, to kiss you, to touch you. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I need you by my side."

The only thing you could do was staring at him. Your eyes locked, Warren was waiting for you to say something, but you could not. It was the most heartwarming thing someone had ever said to you. Warren moved closer, only a few inches, but he was already so close it scared you. Your back against the wall, unable to move, you begged him:

"Warren, please..."

The fear must have shown in your eyes because he said: "I'm trying really hard not to kiss you right now." His voice was hoarse and low and his eyes full of passion.

"Good..." you whispered, mesmerized by the strong emotions he was showing you.

What were you supposed to say? That you did not want him to kiss you? Because you did. What you did not want was to hurt him, but those feelings were so contradictory that it felt like you did not know what you wanted anymore.

"Good? That's not how it feels."

His blue eyes bore into yours and you could see his love for you; it was so obvious that you did not understand how you could not have seen it before and why you had been so surprised when he had kissed you.

Fear still clutching your heart, you shook your head and lowered your eyes making Warren sighs. The spell was broken. You felt him back down slightly, but as he talked again, he squeezed your hand harder in his.

"Come home with me." You met his eyes again and saw the determination in it. He would not take no as an answer. You nodded and he smiled. Such a relieved smile you made a promise to yourself.

The promise to master your power and to be able to make him smile like that again.