xmutanthigh | [SCENE] Julian & Amara

His eyes trailed to the bottom of the second page, feeling her shift against him, her fingers idly fidgeting with the loose fabric of his shirt, and he smiled as he watched her read.

“You done with this page?” He asked her, fingers testing the edge of the page, ready to turn it.

“Uh,” she paused, eyes running over the last sentence. “Yes.” The page turned and his hand fell to his side again, the both of them reading the set of pages.

Julian's eyes trailed on over to the second page, glancing to her face momentarily. "You're a slow reader," he whispered.

"Am not," Amara retorted blankly, eyes not wandering from the current page.

He chuckled once, finding the beginning sentence. "All right," he conceded, and then they were quiet, absorbed back into the story.

They turned the next page without a word, Julian nudging his nose into her shoulder as he read, breathing in the faded mixed scents of fabric softener and perfume. She moved, arm reaching and fingers softly scratching his hair before returning to her lap. "Julian?" She said after a pause, her voice a bit heavy and hesitant to break the quiet.

"Yeah?" His eyes didn't stray from the page.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

The slack, slightly frightened look that took hold of every man's face at those words grabbed Julian's features. "What about, princess?"

A breath, which she didn't know that she was holding, passed from her lips, shifting again, eyes blinking from the book a bit. She shifted again and sank against him more, mind no longer focused on the novel in his hands. "It's about, um... Bobby. I -- I talked to Bobby the other day, and I just... Well I'm sort of worried about him," she finished lamely with a sigh, fingers still fiddling with fabric.

"How come?" He was still against her, almost tense, the tightness of his voice mimicking his body.

"Just," she started, letting out another breath as she raised to sit up and finally looked to him. "It's just that he's really... I don't know, Julian." She stopped and looked off to her side, recalling Bobby's words and demeanor: distant and cold, almost lost. "He's really not doing well."

"What's wrong with him?" The words were plain, straight-forward. She knew Julian wouldn't take her abstracts as an answer, wouldn't hear what she was trying to convey.

"Everything, Julian. Don't you pay attention at all?" She stared at him for a moment and, when he didn't respond, she looked down to her hands, explaining. "He's really upset. He doesn't have school anymore, since he graduated. Professor Summers kicked him off of the main team. And everyone is still... you know, treating him differently. He doesn't..." She trailed off, thinking, and she shook her head when she had nothing else to say, watching her fingers fidget.

"I pay attention," he said after inhaling deeply, closing the book and looking back up to her, his gaze harder than previously.

She brought her eyes up to meet his and flinched at his gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes were confused. "Then did you just hear what I told you? He's a mess, Julian."

"I'd say we go try to get him back on the roster, but I don't think the boy scout would go for it."

"Julian," she stopped herself, looking away from him. "I'm not looking for your sarcasm here, okay? Can you put aside your ego or pride or whatever it is that makes you want to be a jerk to him, and to me when I talk about him, and actually talk to me?" Her words were exasperated, already tired. "You should have seen him. He's not the way he used to be."

"What do you want me to do about it?" There was no malice or sarcasm in his voice, just a twinge of helplessness. He shrugged as if to accentuate it. "I'm not trying to be sarcastic, I'm not trying to be a jerk -- I'm not being a jerk, Amara. He's having a hard time. I can't help that and neither can you."

"A hard time?" She said lowly after a long pause, voice ragged and jumpy. "His life is in shambles right now and you just think it's because he's 'having a hard time'? He is what he is right now because of us, Julian, and you don't care?" Internally, she thought to herself that he didn't care, knowing it was probably hopeless to have even brought it up.

"Of course I care," he snapped. "I'm just saying, there's nothing we can do about it, Amara."

Frustrated, she licked her teeth and huffed out a breath. "Is that your response to everything?" She asked, tone both annoyed and disbelievingly. "Because there's nothing you can do about it you just pretend like it doesn't exist? I'm upset about this, but there's nothing you can do about it. So we ignore it, right?"

"No, I didn't say that," he protested. His features twisted slightly, annoyance radiating from him. "I'm not ignoring it, you're just attacking me for no reason."

She nearly scoffed, it instead coming out as a single breath. "Fine," she replied and spun around to hang her legs off the side of the bed, her back to him. "Just forget I said anything."

He exhaled, pressing his lips together and burning a look at her back. Nothing but his minute shifting sounded, his supposed indifference clawing with anger on her insides. "I'm sorry," he finally said, although the tone of his voice suggested otherwise.

"I told you to forget about it, Julian," she snapped. "You don't understand what I'm trying to tell you. You don't like Bobby, I get it."

"Why do you think it's always about that?" His voice had raised; she heard a thud that she figured was the book he'd tossed angrily on the end-table. "I keep telling you I do not hate the guy, and you keep throwing it back in my face! I'm so fucking sorry I don't have lovey-dovey feelings for him like you do!"

She shoved against the bed and stood, crossing her arms and shoulders tensing. She spun around to glare at him. "Are you really going to go there?"

"Are you?" He retorted quickly.

Her feet carried her a few steps forward and her voice raised further. "Bobby is a mess -- he's a mess because of what we did. He doesn't know who he is anymore, Julian. He keeps telling me that he still loves me, and I don't know how to feel or what to do about this entire thing. And you just stand there and act like you don't want me to care or want me to feel anything toward him over what happened. I miss him. I miss my friend, and I want him back, but I'm starting to think that that's really not going to happen. And you act like you don't care."

"I care," he stressed, standing up, fingers nearly tugging at his hair in frustration. "I don't expect you to feel nothing, Amara. But you act like your whole world's going to fall apart if he doesn't get over the fact that you cheated on him so you can be friends again! What do you expect, Amara? It takes time to get over someone. Of course he's a freaking mess! Every time we have this conversation, it's the same thing. I wish there was something I could do, but there isn't!"

"There you go again!" She could feel her skin heating with anger, her fists tightening. "It's always about fixing things with you, Julian! It's never about how I feel, or how Bobby feels or--"

"Newsflash, sweetheart," he cut her off, the muscles in his neck tightening, his cheeks flushing, "Bobby's not in this relationship, so I don't really give a flying fuck about what he feels."

His harsh words twisted her gut and boiled her blood, the edges of her hair burning bright, her words choked and strangled. "And what about how I feel, Julian? What about how you feel? How can you stand there and act like what we did is no big deal?! Do you feel anything at all?"

"Yes!" He practically bellowed the word. "For fuck's sake, yes! How many times do I have to say that I care?!"

"You don't act like it! You never act like it!" She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision. Her throat was choked; she couldn't tell if she was more angry or sad or frustrated, the emotions coursing and crashing through her like blood. "Would it kill you to act like it, or at least pretend you ca-"

"I. Do." He repeated himself through clenched teeth; his voice, his eyes, his still figure -- all deathly grave. "I'm sorry I'm not on my knees begging for forgiveness for all my sins, Amara, all right?"

"No, not all right!" Her eyes stayed on his, blinking every now and again, and a hitched and shaky breath left her, shoulders tensing further. "You may be able to just sit here and be okay about him being a mess, but I can't. When someone I care about is hurt, I care, no matter what the circumstances of the situation are." She tried to make her words as evenly toned as possible before taking a few more steps around the edge of the bed, nearing him. "If you want me to stay here and act like I'm not upset about this... I don't know how to do that, Julian, especially when all you keep saying to me is that you do care, but aren't saying anything otherwise."

"Amara," he ground out, "for the last time, I'm not telling you to stop being upset, all right? Quit putting words in my mouth and acting like you know what the hell is going on in my mind at all. I'm not okay with this situation. I'm not okay." He held her eyes with a fierce gaze, his breath shaking. "Everything I say to you, you twist around and use it to pick a fight with me. So maybe for one second you can understand what I just said to you, what I've been saying to you this entire time."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Julian," she hissed. "I can't help that I don't believe it when you say you care so much when that's all you say!" Her voice was overly sarcastic, venomous.

"Well, maybe I don't want to say anything about it, Amara. Ever think of that?" His octave increased; more volume entered in his spitted words.

"Yes!" She threw up her arms. "Yes, Julian, that's exactly what I think! You just want to sweep it under the rug and forget it's there!"

He growled, blue forming in his palm, his fist closing around it. "Yeah, sweetheart. I do! All right? Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted? I don't want to think about it. I don't want to talk about it. It's over, we did it, we can't take it back. I'm not going to lose sleep over it."

"You are so heartless!" The words ripped from her throat, her eyes mesmerized by his hard look, the rage pouring off of him. It was during those moments when she wasn't sure she knew him at all, and that hurt more than his indifference or his anger. "We hurt people we care about and all you can think about is yourself!"

"No," he bellowed, holding out a finger. "You lost someone you cared about, sweetheart. You lost a friend. I lost someone, I hurt someone that means more to me than you or even she could ever know! And she's worse off than your precious friend, because she'll never talk about how I violated her mind, cheated on her, and broke her heart twice, Amara! So shut up." He spun around, and the subsequent crashing thud of books smacking against the floor made her flinch and step back.

There was quiet, despite Julian's shallow labored breathing. His hands gripped the edges of his desk, his shoulders hollowed as his head hung.

She blinked, her own breath held, eyes wide as saucers at his outburst. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, trying to ignore the knot of nervousness in her stomach, slowly making her way to his side. Lashes fluttered, his head rose an inch when she entered his peripheral vision. She noted his expression was carefully blank, his eyes intently watching nothing but space. Fingers brushed hesitatingly against his shoulder, moving towards his neck.

"Jule-" His questioned name was cut off; her breath hitched when he moved fast, hand curling around her wrist and pulling her roughly against him into a tight embrace. He felt hot with recent anger, the warmth nearly making her sweat, his breath flushing against her neck, tickling her nerves.

Her body stayed as stiff as a board against him and his arms gripped her tighter, his mind calming and working, but all her mind did was go over his words numerous times. Eyelids blinked to cover his eyes painfully, as did hers, and she choked out an apology to greet the tiny bit of air left between them. "I'm sorry, Jules. I didn't mean to -- to..."

"Don't," his strangled voice interrupted hers roughly. Her lungs deflated, defeated, and the features of her face softened against his shoulder; her mind continued to work over his words, absorbing and deciphering over and over again regretfully.

"Don't what? I shouldn't have... it was wrong of me to bring it up," she insisted. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't wrong." His voice was hoarse, muffled against her skin. "I'm sorry." He breathed deeply; she felt one of his hands curl around a fistful of her shirt. "Don't apologize."

"Julian... are you..." She trailed off and sucked in a heavy breath, mind stilling. Her voice developed a tone of concern and evenness. "Why won't you talk to me? I just -- I didn't," she paused and pressed her forehead firmly to his shoulder, letting out an annoyed, passing sound, "I wasn't trying to make you upset. But you keep..." She intentionally dropped her voice to a muffled whisper with her next words. "You never talk about her."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Somehow the few seconds felt much too long, as if her heart was holding out to beat until he answered her, until she heard his voice again. "It's not something you have to deal with." His grip loosened on her, but he didn't let her go. "I didn't want you to... know. To worry."

"But you have to let me 'deal with it', Julian." She paused and he shifted. "What I mean is," she began again gently, "you have to tell me something. If you need time... just -- you have to tell me, Jules, if this is wrong and you need space."

"I don't need space." He sighed and pulled away enough to look into her eyes. She'd never seen him look so tired, or so sad. Hands cupped either side of her jaw, thumb sweeping over her cheek. "I chose you, didn't I? I know what I want, I'm just..." He seemed to gather his thoughts, make them into words. "Marie... we were..." He swallowed. "There was a lot... you know what happened, Amara." He sighed shakily.

Her eyes fell, dropped from his face. "No, I don't." Blue eyes darted about the air to her left, stinging creeping up behind her eyes at the space she felt between them, the distance from him. "You don't have to... Forget about it," she finished, shaking her head and blinking, forcing a smile with her face angled from his.

"Everybody knows what I did to her," he said quietly.

"Julian." She said his name sadly, disappointed, almost hurt. "You -- she came back to you after all of that. She did. You said it yourself, we all make mistakes." Her lips twitched as she fought to hold back a frown, fingers grabbing his upper arm. "I'm sorry. You need to try and... forgive yourself."

"I thought I could." His breath hitched. "I thought if she took me back, if I proved I was better... I didn't... Amara... I just fell back in love with you and left her." He shook his head, voice a strained whisper. "I'm sorry. I know you're hurt because of Bobby... but whenever you'd talk about it, all I could think about was that. I know you were good friends. I'm sorry for being a jackass."

It was her this time that seemed to put the distance between them, despite their closeness, a thick emotional brick wall being built between them, as her eyes filled to the brim with warm tears, guilt crashing into her from three sides. "Don't do that, Julian." Her eyes met his finally after a silent, still pause. "You say that you should have pushed me away, but it was still my fault. You were there, were a part of it, but it wasn't you, and it's the same with... Rogue. It wasn't you, no matter what you might think."

He shook his head again. "No, it wasn't... it's not like that. It was my fault. Don't say things like that just to make me feel better. What we did... we were both cheating. But what I did before that... that was me."

A pause descended between them as she observed his features, guilt radiating from both sides. "That may be. But you were... you were hurt. Things don't ever seem brutal enough when you're upset, and then, afterwards, your actions are maybe the worst you've ever done. You -- you both know that now." She brought her hands up to his face, holding both sides. "You have to stop doing this to yourself."

"I know. I am. I have you. I let myself have you." He shifted closer, hands sliding to her back, blinking slowly. "I didn't do anything to deserve you, Amara. Sometimes I don't even know why you're here."

"Because I love you," she told him. "You let me be myself. And despite what everyone may say about you or how you may act around others, I know you're -- you care." She leaned up to press her forehead to his. "I like how you care because you do, and I know when someone says something about you that they're typically wrong. You let me see you."

"I love you." He looked down, between them, unable to suppress the bittersweet smile on his face, eyes closing. "I love you."

"I love you." One of her hands found his and tested his fingers. "And that's another thing: you let me." Her other fingers ran over a lock of his hair before they fell, hanging at her side.

His smile grew, his other hand finding her free one, cyan uncovering. "Like I could refuse you anything," he quipped.

"Well," she drawled out, "you could." Her fingers squeezed his and blue eyes smiled sadly into his.

His happiness sobered somewhat as he gazed at her. "I'm trying. You know that, right? I don't want to fight with you... Whenever I'm being a stubborn ass, just tell me. I'm an idiot, Amara. Sometimes I don't know."

"I know you're trying," she reassured him. "I'm trying, too, even if it doesn't... you know, seem like it sometimes. And you're not an idiot."

He smirked, releasing her hands to wrap his arms around her waist. "I know you're trying."

Her lips smiled slowly, fingers traveling to feel his dark locks. "Then stop... thinking so much," she retorted, it feeling weird to be the one to say it for once.

He chuckled, eyes traveling to her lips before he pulled her along her length, lifting her feet from the ground and swiftly depositing her on the bed, settling over her without any delay. "I know a way to stop thinking..."

She grinned up at him and mumbled an "uh huh" before his lips pressed to hers, hearing a 'click' sound as his telekinesis wrapped around the lock of the door, her fingers traveling to his shoulders greedily, forgetting about what they were talking about.

[SCENE] Julian & Amara

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