「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(348) Aloof

Lynn's POV

Over the years, it seemed I had too earned Charles' immunity—agonizingly, and inevitably, built up on my part. Alcohol no longer opened the vulnerability of getting hopelessly intoxicated, but rather the precarious door that erratically rendered us leery and irritable.

My intermediate stages, however, involved a chatty, lighthearted, side that James fortuitously chanced upon as he tailed me onto the deserted terrace. Curfew limited the students and teachers were plainly tired after a proper school day that the boundless gardens was all our haven to play.

As my system hovered in that gabby transition state, his trivial conversation starters were unusually amusing and I unintentionally condoned his forward behavior despite recognising its sporadic audaciousness.

Progressively—as my veins were increasingly polluted with the clean-tasting spirit—however, the nuisance of his bold flirting emerging rapidly from his witty comicality turned sharply provoking.

Disengaging myself was the only way I imagined could prevent my surging temper from disastrously exploding as he rambled on incessantly in spurring tones vividly inviting a fervent debate and he was certainly not one to concede before he attained his target.

"Why are you so aloof all of a sudden?" James complained—though more confused than annoyed.

"I am not aloof all of a sudden!" I lashed out, glaring at him ferociously, but was nearly destroyed by the innocence radiating from those naturally spellbinding eyes.

"I am just aloof," I declared, struggling to muster a fierce tone.

"And I am terribly sorry your conceived notion of missus is entirely askew," I scorned in contempt.

"Do not follow me again, Mr. McAvoy," I warned impatiently and expeditiously steered myself back towards the Elizabethan building.

If only my disarray of emotions materialized in multicolored steam, mists of rainbows would be spewing out my ears as I whisked through the dimmed corridors of the mansion. My discomposure blaring through the roof was clearly sufficient to induce insomnia and not even glimpsing my bed, I recklessly rushed into the Danger Room.

There were less than a few more hours to endure before I could completely unwind in the safe arms of Charles but apart from the gruelling time, little did I expect to actually—nearly—kill something else.

Chucking my chair and the slim bottle laced with just minuscule traces of vodka in the command deck, I levitated myself into the vacant chamber. Mentally, I activated training mode to its maximum and began wielding bursts of telekinesis to the disservice of ruthlessly-attacking sentinels.

Considerable satisfaction arose from defeating each one, gradually appeasing the chaos churning within me. Yet, as the zenith of my powers was unreservedly unleashed to score a beautiful win, the unpleasant Scottish growl that promptly ensued had my heart totally shattering.

Frenziedly, I flipped my head in the direction of the harrowed voice, only to be greeted by a drastically more traumatic sight.

A sleek bluish ray slithered in from the narrow—odd—chasm in the entrance, apparently left unlocked by accident, and illuminated his pale body sprawled limply by the wall amidst a growing puddle of blood.

"Oh my god, James!" I screamed, hurriedly soaring towards his side as I forced an invisible pulse to the emergency button.

The riotous environment promptly reverted into a blank arena and the systematic pattern of bulbs gleaming from the curved ceiling amidst the alarming whirl of yellow flares just unveiled his suffering more glaringly as I mindlessly plopped myself by his afflicted body.

"I told you not to follow me. Why won't you ever listen?" I lamented—regardless that my dead legs contorted in a pile—and discovered his coffee hair caked in viscous scarlet fluid as I attempted to lift his torso.

Despite the ghastly mess created on my hand, I strenuously lugged him onto my desensitised lap but James just slumped lifelessly and his breathing was extremely shallow, almost negligible, as his eyes automatically closed.

"No, no, no... James, don't sleep, please. Look at me, baby. Look at me..." I frantically urged, words and tears spilling unconsciously, as I brushed my gimpy hand upon his sickly face.

"So I was right... You do care about me..." James gasped, as if every effort drained his energy endlessly, yet persistently flashed me a weak grin even when his eyes were a mere slit.

"But why, Lynn?" He sputtered in utter bewilderment and anguish.

"What is this we share that is so, inexplicably, sweet?" James pried curiously and the remarkably apt adjective bouncing off his tongue with amazing fluency was simply too overwhelming.

All my defences were demolished as fast as they could ever be erected in that aching instance and I wretchedly succumbed to his eager gaze, as if it was his death wish—or probably, I just needed a shot at atoning my own sins.

Clumsily shifting my debilitated fingers to his temple, I focused to unearth the intricately disguised memories. While it was definitely not the easiest of feats to retrieve and piece back the numerous fragments buried deep within a convoluted labyrinth, I was immensely grateful I had been taught well to achieve it.

Assuredly, the full blow of our recollections—all, good and bad—started flooding his head but James exhibited no observable reaction apart from looking at me with a tremendously tender gaze and whatever obscure seconds that ticked by dawned unimportant until a drop trickled down his face.

"I am so, so, sorry. Will you ever forgive me?" I mumbled remorsefully as I vaguely caressed his damp cheek.

"I already did, sweetie..." James slurred in a feeble tone but determinedly grasped my palm, tilting up his chin in a craving manner so undeniable, and before another cognizant moment, I was recoiling my lips from his as I discerned a rough commotion.

Haphazardly, I faced towards the exit where the ruckus emanated and four pairs of astonished eyes just stared at me as I froze, drenched in horror. Despite his ostensibly hurt eyes, Charles was first to approach, shadowed by Jean and Scott who darted in before Raven registered to move.

"Lynn, it's alright. You can let go now," Jean whispered with a kind smile, gazing at me encouragingly, as Charles paused—hesitant—in the background.

"Let us take him," Scott echoed with a collected nod as Jean delicately peeled off my grip.

Manually directing me into Raven's embrace, the couple smoothly hoisted James out of the hemispherical hall. As they scampered off, Charles graciously reached towards me and Raven laboriously surrounded my torso in her arms but before I could be hauled onto the comfort of his thighs, everything spiraled into a barren void.