Eviternity | Loki

∆ cigar

_____

❝ The world breaks everyone,

and afterward,

some are strong at the

broken places. ❞

~Earnest Hemingway

_____

Her things practically fell out of her arms the minute she unlocked her apartment door, exhausted by the last week of work. It had been her best week ever, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being haunted by her past. Apparently it was still far from being dealt with. 

Her first instinct was to put on some music, and she browsed a shelf of records before putting Fleetwood Mac on the turntable. It was only then that she saw a lamp on in her little kitchen, and she rounded the corner to see a large figure hunched over her table, head in his hands.

"Was wondering when you'd get here, I was starting to get worried," he raised his head, a smirk plastered on his face. A cheap bottle of whisky sat on the table in front of him, in addition to a small box of cigars. "And Rumours? Still? You don't change it up often."

"Logan," she breathed, rushing to his side. He stood and she hugged his torso, burying her face in his chest. It took everything in her not to break down into a sobbing mess. "It's been so long."

He nodded. "Yeah. Look, I'm sorry I don't come around more often-" she shushed him, pulling out of his embrace.

"No need for apologies. I've got you here now, haven't I?" She winked, grabbing a cigar from the box. She ran it under her nose, sniffing it with her eyes closed. "Are these the good ones?"

"The best," he grabbed one himself and lit up. She leaned over his shoulder, holding the cigar to his flame. "Spoken to Charles?"

"Just the other week actually. First time since the fallout." He looked at her, surprise written into the lines on his face. "It didn't go well."

He shrugged. "He's been thinking lately." Shaking her head, she stepped toward the kitchen and began pulling whiskey bottles from the cupboard.

"I'm not going back. He can think all he wants, but I'm moved on." She carried the bottles to the table and grabbed a couple of mason jars from the counter. "I've been stocking up."

Logan smiled. "Looks like it's gunna be a good night." Raising his eyebrows, he poured a glass, tossing it back.

"You know that DNA Stryker was fuckin' around with?" She nodded, urging him to go on. "Hank was taking a look at your DNA again for you, said some fancy stuff that I didn't understand, but you've got some freaky shit going on."

Asta coughed into her glass. "What does that mean?"

"He's mutated your mutation. Thinks it could mean that you have my healing factor. And you're certainly aging the same as I did. Hell, when did you leave him? '72?" Her eyes widened and she nodded.

"How strong is it?" Logan shrugged.

"It should be the same as me, I just thought you should know. Said something about it taking some time to fuse, so it wouldn't have been obvious right away. You'd have to talk to him to get the lowdown."

Her head spun with the newfound knowledge, and she wondered how she'd never noticed before. She hadn't really been in positions where she was ever in harms way, now that she thought harder on the subject. She'd always had more pressing things to worry about.

She leaned back in her chair puffing of her cigar as Logan poured her another glass.

"Asta. Don't stress over it. We've got a lotta drinking to do before the sun comes up." She smiled, and he returned it, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"Sure do."