DEXTER ² | ❝The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart❞
POST X-MEN: APOCALYPSE | SCOTT SUMMERS
Cover by: soulofstaars
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WHEN RUTH WOKE UP, THE SUN WAS BRIGHT AND SHINING THROUGH HER CURTAINS. She groaned softly as she turned away from the window, sighing when she couldn't escape, stumbling out of bed, dragged back into the depths of sleep as she closed the thicker curtains and shades, blocking out all the light, and she had to wonder who kept sneaking into her room to open them every day because it certainly wasn't her.
Falling back onto her bed, she sighed, settling into a feeling of wanting to sleep, but too awake to do so, her eyes hurting and body sluggish, yet her mind just barely active enough to warrant movement.
She groaned, turning to lie on her stomach, opening her heavy eyes to find the food that she had brought up from earlier that morning, everything coming back to her in the split second it took for her to fully acknowledge her existence. It was a slight change, but enough to tire her out instantly, dropping her face back into her pillow, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and stay there forever; somehow, she had managed to sleep without any dreams, and those nights were few and far between.
Moving onto her side, Ruth tried to relieve the heaviness in her eyes; she didn't have anything to do that day—it was summer, so she didn't have anything to do any day—but considering the events of the night before, she suspected that she was going to be called to the lab to be tested on or questioned, and since she wouldn't have much of a say, she might as well have some energy when they came for her.
As she laid there, she couldn't help but let her mind wander, her heart aching as she allowed herself to think, her eyes still closed as she imagined the room she was in now, but different, herself different as well. Everything so much different.
"What's going on, Ruth Dakin Bailey?"
The pain in her chest bloomed as Ruth imagined him lying there. She had slept over at his house so many times that it wasn't a stretch to imagine how he would be there now, her bed at the mansion bigger than the one at either of their homes.
She wasn't quite sure what his clothes were, they were more of a blur than anything else, but it was enough. She figured he was wearing the special jacket that he always loved, the jacket that he wore so much yet not at all, always too afraid that he would wear it on the wrong day and wind up with it destroyed. She could see his bright eyes and the way his nose would curve up if he smiled wide enough and how his lips would cover part of his teeth depending on how he smiled.
"I'm tired," she whispered to the empty room, because talking in her head was nothing compared to speaking out loud, no matter how much more painful it was when it was over.
She flipped onto her stomach, screwing her eyes shut as she buried her face in her pillow, imagining that she was still on her side, watching as he stood up and made his way around her room, examining everything that he would never get to see.
"Sweet digs you got here, Ruthie," he commented, because he always knew how to make her feel better, even if it was just changing the subject, and she had never wanted him with her more than she did in that very moment, "It's nicer than what we had before. What're you gonna do now?"
