1963-12-29 - Holiday Gifts
Summary: Back Dated to have taken place before Seth goes missing. Lorna gives Seth a gift
Related: Lorna and Seth logs
Theme Song: None
seth lorna 


Lorna shot Seth a look as he snuggled up in the moth eaten woolen blanket that stank of sour ..something.. She didn't want to think of it frankly. The fact that she was sitting on the couch was an effort of will power alone.

"Seth, what I did there was wrong. I should've done better. I shouldn't have brought that building down on those people. I had no right to do so. What I did was wrong. I could've prevented it and gotten us out. But I wasn't thinking. I reacted instead of thinking." She grumbled, "If I had been thinking, I'd have put us in a metal ball and flown us up and out of there rather than murder three people." She crossed her arms over her middle, and huffed.

"My parents have a right to be afraid of me."

*

Seth doesn't back down, leaning up from where he had been mostly listening to growl,

"No. They don't. You would never hurt them. By fearing you, they're showin' they can't trust you because of what you are. How is that fair? They don't know what you've done, they don't even care to know what you can do. And those people? They would have murdered us without so much as a second thought given a chance. So don'tcha go holding that over your head. They're better off dead."

A disgruntled huff finished his opinion, his breath surprisingly untouched by whiskey yet. On the exhale, he reached up and gently shoved the strand of hair that had escaped a while ago back behind the ridge of her ear, callouses whispering over the soft skin as he muttered with a flick of his eyes to her own,

"You aren't all that scary, Lorna. You don't deserve to be feared especially not by people who are supposed to love you unconditionally."

*

Lorna squeezed her eyes shut briefly, "I can stop bullets in theory, Seth. I can lift cars. My tata.. he can access the Earth's magnetic field if he wanted to. Rip it right off the planet I bet. Do you know what kind of power that is? It's terrifying. I'm scared of it. If my parents are scared… I-I don't blame them."

And then his fingers were brushing against her skin as he tucked a loose lock of verdant green back and she blinked open eyes of the same shade to clash against his own gaze. "It doesn't matter what they intended, I should've been better than that. To kill them.. to give into my anger and not think of an alternative? It made me as bad as them.." She whispered. "And I shouldn't have used my powers against someone else like that.. it's wrong." She mumbled, averting her gaze from his. Even if a flush crossed her pale cheeks.

*

Seth lingers for a while longer, a thumb crossing over her flushed cheek as he let out a sigh and shook his head before retracting the touch to his own possession. His expression wore a mixture of frustration in the tension of his jaw, disbelief in the widening of his eyes, and something else in the way he wet his lips with his tongue.

"If surviving is wrong them I'm downright rotten. I've done far worse than what you did to keep us alive. And you trust me, don't you?"

At least he hoped she did, what with her following him into a flop house and giving him knives.

*

Lorna remained still as his fingers lingered, as his thumb pressed against her cheek. She blinked up at him, black eyelashes fluttering as she swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. As he spoke though, drawing away from her she was quick to nod, her brows furrowing. "Well yes. But Seth, I had the power to not hurt them. To keep everyone alive. I choose not to. I didn't think about the consequences. I just acted. That's what's wrong. That I had the power, the chance to do something better for everyone.. and .. and I didn't." She averted her gaze, lowering her head as she chewed her lower lip.

"That I have the power to do better and I didn't.. that's what's wrong.." She whispered.

*

Seth silently weighed her response, letting her have the spaces between the words the husky breaths drawn around emotion, the careful thought she put into every question of morality. Then he looked away from her to the ground, the empty liquor bottle that was toed over, the idle clink-clink-clink of the glass rolling against old wood.

"You did not answer my question. Do you think that I'm powerless? Do you think I was forced to do the things I have done, and therefore they are alright? That I am not wrong?"

His voice was distant, already knowing the answer lay in her regard of him, her need for him to be a victim that she could save, a tangible inequality separating them despite the way their knees touched together with his fidgeting. Dropping his head into his hands, he pulled off the hat and scratched at the thick blonde hair that fell freely without the cotton thread keeping it confined.

*

A sigh pulled at her lips and she shook her head. "I don't think you're powerless Seth." She mumbled, folding her arms over her middle. "But that? With the building, don't pretend that it had something to do with you. They were already chasing me. I'd have been worse off if not for you."

Her fingers pinched and picked at the hem of her sleeve, playing with a loose thread there. "I have a lot of power. More than many. And I need to be careful with what I can do."

Miss Frost nor her father cared overly about morals when it came to protecting one's self or those they cared for, but Professor Xavier most assuredly did. And for some reason, the telepaths careful words and gentle confidence in her seemed to matter a great deal to her. She liked him, trusted him, and found he appealed to that inner sense of right that Lorna had herself.

*

Seth glares up at her and stands abruptly, pulling on his boots to pace to the window and back. Underneath his feet, discarded cigarette butts crushed, bottles rolled, a syringe needle snapped. He stopped to lean against the frame and look out to the streets below, something in his expression steeled as he spoke. Whatever pain had echoed in his words only moments before was chased away by the truth in his words,

"I could have stopped them. I owed money to two of them. They just wanted to rob you. Me? They would have delighted in trying to break me. Not that they could have, but it was a distraction. It was a possibility. It's one that wouldn't have hurt me at all, or you, and saved their lives."

From a jacket pocket, he drew out a cigarette and stuck it between his teeth, lighting it without considering how she usually detested the smoke so irritated was he by her arrogance. When his eyes turned from the window back to her, there was nothing lingering there of the affection he had swallowed down upon receiving the gift earlier,

"You're avoiding my first question, Lorna. Do you think I'm wrong? Do you think I have to do what I do? Do you believe I had no other choice but to sell that whore her drugs? To put a blade between Jake's ribs a week ago because he was on a street three over from where he's supposed to be? I can keep going."

Smoke wreathed out of his mouth and he shook his head, as if pitying her innocence while the nicotine settled in his system and his nerves steadied.

*

Lorna grimaced as he got up, and she rose from the stinking couch as well. Her hands out stretched behind her as she made to stand from the sinking pit that was the cushion. She pursed her lips as he strode and returned, the smoke from the cigarette making her cough as it swirled around them. A wave of her hand following a vain attempt to expell the smell from her area.

Then her focus returned to him and she squared her jaw, stubborn focus coloring her posture and her gaze.

"No. I think you do. I think it's a choice. You could do differently. You're smart, clever, quick on your feet. Clearly gifted, and with a mutation that wouldn't get you sunk in Mutant Town either. You could do something else if you wanted to. If you set your mind to it. Would it be hard and possibly doomed to fail? Possibly, I don't know. But I think that you're selling yourself short." She bit her lower lip, hard and looked away from him.

"I should go." She muttered, turning to leave.

*

A smirk played over his lips, another long drag taken as she began to cough as if enjoying her discomfort. Perhaps he did on some level. A bit of ash was tapped to the filthy floor as she squared her shoulders and made her play for a moral compass.

"Not everyone has a daddy out there looking for them. Some of us make our own way. You're obviously better than that."

As she turned to leave, he cursed under his breath and waved the hand occupied by the cigarette with a low,

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

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