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@heraldflyboy
“At some point we’re going to have to unwrap our wedding presents, War. Though they do decorate the living area nicely.”
@heraldflyboy
Scott drove up to the car line at the drive-in and looked over to Warren with a grin. One of his favorite things to do was to pick up food late at night and just sit in the car to talk. After the long trip back from Manhattan and a meeting with the professor, Scott waited outside for Warren’s shift in the infirmary to end before coaxing him to hang out. The kids were asleep and they were both night owls so why not? “I think I’ll get a chocolate shake.” He muttered as he looked over the menu before driving up a bit more. “What about you?”
@heraldflyboy
Professor Charles had wanted Scott to take a small break since the attack. As always, he fell into his work, completely disregarding himself and his well-being. “I’d like that. I can get our bags together and we’ll be back tomorrow evening. The school is quiet. Professor Xavier has been insistent I go away for a bit anyway. I’ll let Ororo and Logan know they’re in charge. This is a brilliant plan. How’d you get so smart, handsome? Let me get a shirt on and get to packing.” He grinned and stepped away, holding up one finger letting him know he’d only be a minute.
@heraldflyboy
Scott threw the newspaper on the table and then continued packing. “Is that the friend you’ve been waiting on or the friend that keeps messaging you? Or is it both? I mean, I can’t tell anymore but I suppose if I want to know what’s going on in your life, I should probably either go to Isabella or the newspaper. At first...” He threw things into his dufflebag. “...I’m thinking wow Scott, you’re asshole for doubting Warren. Newspapers can be doctored. Stories can be made up. But pictures?” He scoffed and shook his head. “I asked you to move in with me, War! I lov-- gooddamit!” He didn’t want to cry. That was the worst thing he could do. “What? Did you go while I was sleeping? I...that’s not important. Don’t answer it. If you didn’t want this, you should have told me. I asked you.” He turned to face Warren and pointed to himself. “I asked you if you wanted this. I did it two or three times at the very least. You could have said no instead of...fuck, Warren!” He turned around so that the other wouldn’t catch his expression and punched the wall sideways, enough to leave no damage. Scott hardly ever cursed but he felt his blood boiling everytime he allowed his gaze to shift towards the newspaper. He grabbed his dufflebag and sighed. “I’m gone.”
