Ethereal | (X-Men: First Class)

5. Departure

the action of leaving, typically to start a journey.

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Anything in italics and underlined is in French

The following morning found Marianne awake about an hour before she normally was. She wasn't sure how early it was, exactly, but the sun hadn't risen yet, and usually when she woke up, sunlight would be streaming in through her curtains. It was dark, and except for the sound of a dog barking in the distance, it was quiet. She lay there in the dark for a few minutes, absorbing the sounds and smells of her home. There was always the faint smell of books in her room, and she was never sure if it was just the natural smell of the room or if it was a scent she carried with her. Her bedsheets were soft and worn, and they were warm. She curled in on herself, pulling her knees closer to her chest. She breathed in. She breathed out. Her heart was pounding. She clenched her sheets tight in her fists and buried her face in them.

It's going to be fine, she reminded herself. It will be fine.

It was going to be fine.

Figuring she would not be getting any more sleep, Marianne pulled herself out of bed. She examined herself in her mirror. Whatever she wore today, she would be wearing when she met the other mutants, to use the word Charles had used the previous day. She would already look beautiful, as she always did, regardless of what she wore, but it was important to dress to impress. As her bed made itself behind her, Marianne selected a deep blue knee-length skirt and a loose white blouse. It was one of her favourite outfits, and it looked only slightly more amazing on her than her other outfits, and it could be worn in either a casual or formal setting.

As she brushed her hair and applied her makeup at her vanity, clothes flew from her dresser and into the small suitcase she had open on her bed. She looked over her shoulder once to give her bookshelf an examination, before deciding to bring Sense and Sensibility with her. It had been a while since she had read Jane Austen. She didn't know how much spare time she would have, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, and it was better to bring one book instead of an entirely separate bag for only books.

For this specific situation. For any other situation, bringing a separate bag exclusively for books was entirely acceptable, and she would stand by that rule for.

Only half finished with her preparations for the day, Marianne pulled the notebook on her vanity towards her, flipped it open to a random page, and made a list.

- X. and L. will arrive at around 9 am

‎- Henry wakes up at 7:30, goes to school at 8

- it is 5 am and I am awake - do not want to be awake - cannot go back to sleep

- ‎6 am should open shop but I can not open up because I will not be at home for who knows how long a week? Maybe more?

- ‎I can still back out of this

- ‎I cannot back out of this

- after school Henry will come back home to get anything he needs, then will go to Fallon and Patrick Cassidy's --and he will be safe there--

- need to thank them again, should bake them something --if-- when I return (?)

- ‎??????????

Marianne found herself scribbling question marks over the page, for lack of anything else she could write. It was all so simple, really, and yet everything could go wrong so quickly.
Even if nothing else would be, at least Henry would be safe. Marianne had been friends with Fallon and Patrick ever since their son had wandered into her store. While they were not extremely close, they were friends enough to know they could trust the other with their children. She could trust them with Henry.