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It's the middle of the day at Xavier's and most of the students are busy engaged in studies of various sorts. Consequently, the halls of the school are relatively empty. As are the general living spaces. Classrooms? Occupied.
One particular hall, however, has someone sitting on the phone next to a desk as her fingers sweep over the file in her lap.
"No… that's not…" Kitty relays with an unceremonious roll of her eyes. "I didn't say that — " she's interrupted by the hum of a voice on the receiver. Her hazel eyes widen and she shakes her head slightly. "I said I wanted to know if you'd … " her eyebrows draw together and she pinches the bridge of her nose. "Ohio. That's all. It was un — no I'm not involved in something criminal!" her tone takes on an edge of insult. "…as we've discussed before it's not a cult…" she sighs and listens for several beats. And then she smiles, just a little. "Yeah… I've missed our talks to. Send Dad my love." She hangs up the phone, and, with an exasperated sigh, turns her gaze upwards to the ceiling while pinching the bridge of her nose.
*
Piotr is a bit older than most of the students at Xavier's, but he's also come from a far less educated background than most of them. Two years worth of schooling has done a lot, but there are still a few classes that he needs to take to really round out his education and catch him up with his American peers — he just doesn't have any of them right now.
He'd been on his way to the library when he realized he was hearing Kitty's voice and rethought his plans. Piotr is polite enough to wait at the far end of the hallway until the phone is returned to the cradle, then he starts to approach with a curious lift of his eyebrows.
*
While staring at the ceiling has its merits, Kitty's eyes had drifted closed for just that moment. Sleep hasn't been coming easily; its utter failure has left her increasingly anxious — a feeling she consistently attempts to bottle. And for a moment, she seems to fail. Emotional exhaustion means ridiculous investment in time and energy. The sound of someone's approach has her shifting to see who lingers in front of her.
There's a flicker of a smile, even before she knows who it is, already answering someone that is not Piotr, "I think the professor will notice you trying to cut class again — " her cheeks hue a soft pink as she finally opens her eyes. A sheepish grin tugs the edges of her lips upwards and she casts Piotr a slight up-nod in greeting. Good recovery, Kitty. Always cool. Always calm.
Supposing he already has guessed what she's doing sitting next to the phone, she gives him a small shrug, "Uh… mom says hi?" Because thats'w hat Piotr wants to know, right?
*
Well, in part, yes. Piotr cracks a tired-looking smile and mirrors the upward nod, loosely clasping his hands behind his back. "Hello, Mrs. Pryde," he replies in a near-singsong. Yeah, he's pretty sure she said more than 'hi.'
He considers offering her a hand up before he steps over to sit down beside her, instead. This seems like a much better idea. "…so. Do I owe you some kind of embarrassing favor?" Piotr asks lightly, giving her a genuinely curious look. "Or did they not send you the music box after all?"
*
When Piotr sits down, Kitty affectionally attempts to bump shoulders with him, but because of their difference in size, her shoulder bumps somewhere along his arm instead. She grants him a somewhat sheepish smile.
"Well. I dunno," she turns her head to watch him. "They did send a package." She blinks hard a few times over as she ambivalently allows her head to rock from side to side. Her eyes narrow, "It wasn't a music box unless there was a mix-up at Macy's. And mom has no idea why it would've come from Ohio. There's no reason for it. In fact, she implied I was crazy for thinking that it'd come from that direction."
Her lips twist to the side. "So." Her eyes flit towards him. "Something is off." Her eyes take on a nearly feline quality as she notes, "But don't act too smug about it."
*
Piotr purses his lips. He has begun to develop… opinions about Kitty's mother, and he is very much not going to express them. He'll think them. But he won't say them out loud.
"I will not act smug. I would rather have been wrong," Piotr notes in a low voice, running both of his hands over his face. This is all exhausting. "…I suppose we should decide what to do with it, then. It is your box," he says, forcing some lightness into his voice. "So, it should be your choice."
*
Over the course of their acquaintance, Piotr has probably come to recognize that Kitty has opinions about her mother. She reaches for one of his hands, lightly drawing it away from his face to give a light squeeze. "It's okay." And then, to clarify, she changes her tune, "I'm okay." There's a flicker of a smile that never meets her eyes to punctuate the point.
"My odd box," Kitty offers slowly. "I want to take it apart. It's possible it was just a mix-up." She shrugs. "It might be just a mix-up," there's a level of hopefulness in her tone. "And then there will be nothing to worry about." Pause. "Not that I'm worried — not about me — " good job tipping your hand, Kitty. Her chin drops and quietly, she murmurs: "Jean is my friend. She's dramatic, but she's my friend."
*
It takes slightly more force that usual to draw Piotr's hand away from his face, but only slightly. She still manages it without all that much effort. "If you say you are okay, I believe you," he assures her, trying very hard to ignore the way her smile isn't hitting her eyes.
Piotr shifts in place to drape his arm around Kitty's shoulders. "We will get her out, Katya. She will be okay," he promises. "We will have her back and asking you invasive questions about our dates in no time. You will see."
*
Kitty leans into Piotr and the arm around her shoulders. "Not everyone with them is okay," she says softly. "The girl with the claws is decidedly not okay. The blonde telepaths," three of which are residing deep in MedBay, "are not okay." Her lips press together tightly. "What if — " her eyes squint. " — what if Jean is in the camp of not okay?" Her jaw tightens. "I'm lucky. I got out of there relatively unscathed with really snippets of what happened. It doesn't seem like everyone is so lucky."
She swallows hard and then shoots him a sad, almost-wistful smile, "I'd take invasive questions over her not be around any day. She might not cook well or have good boundaries, but her heart is in the right place, you know? Someone could easily take advantage of that."
*
"True… but I am willing to guess that kidnapping her would make a strong enough first impression that they would have a hard time taking advantage," Piotr says dryly, hugging Kitty up against his side. "She is… strong-willed. Opinionated. And a telepath. Even cheating, I think they would have a hard time." At least, he hopes so.
*
Kitty's chin drops in a small nod of agreement. "She's one of the good ones," she notes softly. "And part of the family." Her eyes lid lightly and she lifts a hand to stifle a yawn as she settles against Piotr. There's a long pause before Kitty's voice flattens and notes, " — that my mother thinks is a cult." He can feel her head shake slightly against him, "She doesn't get it. Not even a little. I hate to say this, but I was really willing Dad to pick up the phone."
*
Carefully, Piotr shifts in place to be a little more comfortable for Kitty to pillow against. "Does he understand? Or is he just…" He tries to figure out how to phrase it, lightly resting his chin against the top of her head. "…less difficult?" That seems like the most diplomatic way to word that opinion. He… thinks.
*
Sleepily, Kitty rests her head against Piotr's chest. Her lips twist to the side indecisively. "Understanding might be a stretch," she stifles a chuckle. "He thought I should try not being a mutant," because that's likely o happen. "But. He's kinder. More understanding that she is." Her jaw tightens, and her expression turns almost like she's sucked on a lemon, "She requested something." Pause. "They want to meet you." Her cheeks flush a brilliant red as she explains quickly, "I told them about you last time they called because you're important to me," interestingly enough this was before she'd let the word boyfriend slip into conversation, "and they're my parents and I just wanted them to know so they would know and sometime in the span of the last couple of weeks she'd decided she wanted to meet you and it's not like we're in Illinois ever anyways so it's not like it'll ever happen — " Kitty stop talking. Be calm. Be cool. There's another pause. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have told them anything."
*
"…what are you apologizing for?" Piotr sounds genuinely baffled. He lifts his head so that he can peer down at the top of hers, a hand coming up to fuss with her hair. "It… that is the most normal thing that has happened to either of us in weeks," he notes, a bit of a laugh coming to his voice. "I do not mind that you told them, Katya. And if you wanted to, we could try to arrange it. But only if you wanted to."
*
"You haven't met the Prydes," Kitty offers lowly as she leans into the touch. The hand at her hair has her easing further, and draws a slower, more measured explanation, "I love my parents. I do. But they're… " her jaw tightens. "Judgmental. Especially mom. Dad less so now. Japan was good for my relationship with him. But mom — I'm pretty sure she had envisioned my life going one way and it went the polar opposite." Piotr can actually hear the smirk in Kitty's tone as she states, "Evidently it isn't every Jewish mother's dream to have her only child be a disappearing ninja — " She squints. "It might be kind of normal, but Theresa Pryde is difficult. And Im' pretty sure that's under exaggeration." She hmmms. "Is it weird I want you all to know each other without ever having to introduce you?"
*
"It makes sense," Piotr notes with a quietly rumbling laugh, letting his fingers continue to fuss with her hair. It seems to be helping calm her down, and… honestly, he's finding the act calming, too. "Would be nice if we could just skip a step. That first one is always most nerve-wracking," he muses, smiling to himself. "I expect I am not precisely what she had envisioned for you, either. But that is fine."
*
"You're not," Kitty agrees. "But I didn't try to hide that. They know… a lot. Almost everything." Mutant? Check. Russian? Check. Gentile? Check. Her eyes squint. "I didn't tell them about Illyana. I'm pretty sure that would break my mother's entire worldview. Boyfriend that can change into steel? Fine. Boyfriend's sister that can cross into another dimension and call on magic creatures to do her bidding?" she rocks her hand uncertainly and then yawns again. "Alright. If we can work it out, we should try to visit. Sometime. When things are less… chaotic."
She sucks on the inside of her cheek, "And I'm not avoiding that second date. I haven't forgotten, I just — " her lips press together tightly and she emits a soft breath. "Jean. Akihiro." Pause. "Seems wrong to think about planning a picnic," spoilers, "when things are a mess." She frowns slightly and rubs her eyes.
*
Piotr hums an agreeable noise that turns into a yawn about halfway through. He hasn't been sleeping so great lately, either. "Second date will wait. It is not as if I am going anywhere," he replies easily, absently stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. Noone's in the halls right now, so no worries about tripping anybody. Might as well be more comfortable, right? "Once everyone is home and I have punched several people in the face, we can worry about that. And visiting your family."
*
"Deal. As long as I'm not one of the people getting punched in the face," Kitty replies drowsily, almost falling asleep against Piotr in the middle of the hallway. She blinks hard, forcing her eyelids open. "So. I was wondering if I could sleep with you." Pause. "Wait. That's not — " her face becomes ridiculously hot " — I mean like, to sleep. Like the library. That time. With the sleeping and I ate peanut butter and tried to give you some but you apparently don't eat peanut butter directly off the spoon because you have something against peanut butter — " she can't stop talking as she tries to backpedal hard " — not sex like Jean suggested — that's not what I mean but actual sleep — like catching z's. Sleep-sleep." She scrubs her face. "And this is why I didn't ask sooner. I made it weird. Now it's weird."
*
"Do not worry. I like your face too much to punch it," Piotr says easily, grinning down at the top of Kitty's head.
The initial request doesn't seem to give Piotr any kind of pause. The way she starts to clarify and verbally backpedal, though — that has a crease forming between his eyebrows as he tries to figure out what, precisely, has gone sailing over his head. It isn't until she actually spells it out that he blinks once and feels his cheeks go beet red. "Oh. Right. Of course you can," he replies quickly, quietly clearing his throat. "Sleep, I mean. With… in my presence. Yes? Yes."
*
The relief in Kitty's tone is palpable as she breathes rather than speaks the word, "Yes." She shifts, craning her neck slightly to peck a light kiss against Piotr's cheek, taking notice of the flush that has settled there. "Thank you," she offers quietly, "for looking out for me. With that," the sleep, "and the music box." There's another pause. "Which… on second thought… can you deal with it? I just…." she sighs softly. "While I'd like to take it apart, knowing could be worse. At least if I don't know I can be oblivious and pretend it's fine." Her lips purse. "Or I can. If you don't want to. I can… dispose of it, I guess." Pause. "Unless it's actually dangerous."
*
Oh, thank goodness, that is a much more straightforward topic. "I will handle it," Piotr promises, grabbing onto the change in topics like a drowning man being thrown a life preserver. It doesn't do much for his blushing, but at least he's not stammering. "…but first, we should sleep. And probably not in the hallway."
*
Kitty hums a note of agreement and pushes herself to a stand. She reaches out a hand to Piotr in silent invitation. A glance is given towards the window followed by a shrug. It's not exactly evening, but they're both obviously running on fumes. She gives a furtive glance towards the stairs. And then, without any chatter at all, the blush takes residence on the apples of her cheeks again. Maybe it's just fatigue?
*
Surely just fatigue. That's definitely why they're both red in the face. With an odd smile, Piotr reaches up to take Kitty's hand before he rises from his seat. After a moment's hesitation, his eyes widen slightly. "…we should probably go before the classes let out," he says under his breath. Oh lord. Even without Jean around, the last thing they need is — yeah. No.
*
Interlocking her fingers with Piotr's, Kitty tugs him silently to the stairs, a gentle, and rather drowsy, pull to bed, punctuated by a sheepish, equally sleepy, smile. And to her credit, Kitty manages to say nothing for once, letting stillness wash over her like the pair's impending nap.