When Pietro had first arrived at the institute, nearly a year ago now, he’d wondered what the hell Wanda had been doing in a place like this. They’d lived an isolated life, wary of others and of assimilation, and then Wanda had done an about face. She wanted things they’d never thought they needed, things away from him. Things more than him. It bothered him still, seeing her shine around all these strangers. Seeing her speak with that fake accent, the beautiful melody of her voice hidden. She wanted to be American so bad, she’d abandoned who they were. He was still bitter, yes, but he was beginning to see a grand design beneath all of this. Finding Max in this state wasn’t a coincidence. Lorna appearing at the mansion wasn’t a coincidence. Erik’s appearance at the Summit was fate, cruel and twisted fate, if he ever saw it. They would be together again, the lot of them, and Pietro didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t want to know where this path would lead them. Especially after seeing Lorna and Erik stand side by side at the Summit. Knowing his corruption, and madness, would soon siphon into her like an unavoidable plague. It had destroyed him, and he wouldn’t let it destroy her.
After speaking with Hank, trying to ensure just that, he makes his way up the stairs. His body is buzzing, the need to zip about the mansion nearly impossible to ignore. The people here moved too slow, they stopped for idle chatter everywhere. In the hallways, the staircase, in doorways. All these places meant for movement and they just stood still. It didn’t matter how fast he was, he couldn’t speed up time. He couldn’t make the world move at his pace, and some days he couldn’t handle it. He needed to be alone. Closing the door behind him, he clicks the lock into place and sighs with relief. Shutting them all out, shutting out their stillness and their calm. With a large deep breath, he turns to head to his bed and rest his aching body but the figure in his room gives him pause. His first instinct is to pin them down, and he’s about to move when he recognizes the sight of a car seat on his bed. A babe, a beautiful one. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here?” he asks, accent heavy with his apprehension. He still can’t see the stranger’s face, and he waits with baited breath for them to turn.
what was already a small fleeting sense of calmness is gone as it is violently ripped away from her. much like the air from her lungs that becomes hitched at her throat, and chestnut eyes go wide with what feels like such a sudden intrusion. but this is what she wanted, right ? it’s been so long since they’d last seen each other, longer than she’s realized, — or let herself admit. would he think her selfish for keeping this from him for so long ? time seems to have etched itself into his very vocal chords. she thinks to herself. meanwhile, in the sparsely lit room stood atlas’ most formidable opponent. though unlike the titan, the burdens that have befallen pietro are self imposed. as he seems so intent in carrying the weight of the world for those he cares most about. rozalia cannot help the sharp pang of guilt that rises from being the thing that only adds to the weight.
the tissue that surrounds her heart begins to burn from lack of oxygen, and the tension in the atmosphere only adds to the moderate discomfort. what could she say ? his voice sound so tired, and weighed down by all the things he’s had to go through. ❝ penelope. ❞ it’s all she can manage to say, and the name leaves her mouth like a prayer, barely a whisper. with each time her daughters name leaves her rosebud lips she recites the many countless promises she’s made to her daughter. i promise to protect and love you. i promise to fight for your rights in this world and never let you feel like you are something that does not belong. these are but few, and she hears the voices of her parents in the first two, but they fade away towards the end. it’s another tang to her heart strings. rozalia finally turns to match his gaze, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. she’s hoping that he still recognizes he because after all, she's always been one who was easy to walk away from —— and true to his powers he was gone the next morning, in the flutter of a heartbeat. ❝ penelope. ❞ her voice breaks but still manages to carry a firmer pitch in tone this time. she’s to caught up in her own emotions to even bother noticing the tears that are forming at the brims of her eyes.
