(no subject)

[butterflyfactor]

It's strange how good the sleep is when you get there by crying yourself into exhaustion. It's something I've done more than once. Even as a kid, I didn't like crying in front of people. I guess it became habit, saving it all up. I'm sure some people would argue it's not healthy, but if it spares me from insomnia, I'll take that trade off. Remembering the conversation I had with Jamie last night is surreal- the first time he'd spoken to me in a week and it had to be while I was disoriented and drained. Waking up this morning, much better rested than I probably should be, I've got it in my mind to try again, or at least get a straight answer out of him. He doesn't do the other thing as well as I do.

Except he's not here.

"Son of a bitch," Layla murmured, pulling on her denim capris and a tanktop different than the one she'd slept in. She toed on her flip flops and pushed the front door open, frowning to herself, ready to make a pretty rapid beeline for the compound, and stopped short.

"...Good morning."

There he was. She stood corrected.

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[howmanylives]

"Then maybe it shouldn't happen," he said. If it hadn't involved touching her, he would've moved her out of the way, but as it was, he simply stared, at a loss.

"You've got your issues to deal with, and I've got mine. Jeez, we're like a bomb waiting to go off -- oh, wait, it already did!"

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Then maybe it shouldn't happen.

Wow, that sucks to hear.

People talk about keeping rewards in mind, when you're going through a grueling experience. Jamie wasn't exactly that, he wasn't something I was ever going to win, because my life is not destined to be that awesome. But knowing that after the Civil War, and after the camp, and after five years of post-wasteland Atlantic City, it was... something enough like a beacon. And now here, where I'm already completely freaking lost, I'm going to lose this as well. Not gonna lie: I'm going to be pretty pissed at him if he can't get over this and cut me a damn break.

"Is this you making a decision?" she asked, not to be biting or mean, but because she needed to know.

"I can find a room in the compound. If you need me to leave, I will."

[howmanylives]

I wasted no efforts in trying to get Layla Miller back from the future -- not out of love, not out of duty, but because I was the only one willing to fight for her, and someone had to fight for her. Cyclops was too busy looking at the big picture to remember those pawns he was moving across that big chessboard of his were people.

So, what I'm trying to say is, she's not the great love of my life. That would be, in a word, wildly inappropriate. Oh, sure, in some future, somewhere, she's my wife. And? I've had wives. For all I know -- for all we know -- she's married to a dupe, just like everyone else. It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last.

But none of that is me making a decision.

Jamie closed what negligible distance there was between them, stopping just short of actually touching her. Though his face was impassive, his eyes gave him away. He looked at her like he'd always looked her -- like she was a puzzle, or something to be figured out.

"If I made a move right now," he said, "would you stop me?"

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

She dropped her arms when he stepped nearer, looking up at him with clear eyes.

"No."

[howmanylives]

This is the moment where the music swells and the two leads kiss. The end credits are already waiting to roll. This is also the moment I realize my life isn't a movie.

"Then I don't need you to leave."

He rested his hand against her shoulder to move her to the side. Then, with Richards at his heels, he brushed past her, and into the hut.

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

She stood quietly in the doorway where she'd been placed staring at the space he'd been in.

"So, just for clarity's sake," she said, "as long as I'm amenable to starting a physical relationship whenever you're ready, I'm welcome here."

[howmanylives]

The question caught him so off-guard that he tripped over the damn dog. He caught himself, barely, against the desk piled high with books, and he turned to look at her, his expression almost comical in its horror.

"What?" he said, holding up his hands to stop her. "No, no, no, no, no, that's not-- Okay, that's exactly what it sounded like, but-- I asked you to stay here because you're a friend, Layla, not because I wanted to get in your pants. If you'd said yes, my answer would've been the same. I just needed to know, either way, that's all."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Layla stared at him for a few seconds without anything shifting in her expression before she closed her eyes and let out the breath she'd been holding. When she opened them again she was smiling, wryly and only slightly, but she looked more relaxed than she had been since her arrival.

"Well, okay, then." Dufus. Was that so hard?

[howmanylives]

"Okay, then," he echoed, matching her smile, however slight, with one of his own. He felt about as relaxed as she looked just then, which, he supposed, spoke of some sort of progress. Generally speaking, Jamie Madrox was not a man who felt relaxed, so much as restless.

"So... I'm gonna put on a different pair of pants, 'cause of What-a-Mess, here," he said, gesturing at Richards who had scampered under the bed. "And, uh, maybe then we can go grab breakfast or something? If you want."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Layla smiled more, and nodded.

"Sounds good."