@hellflake
Ororo didn’t like unfinished business; it was something she rarely had. She didn’t typically allow herself to put off things that needed to be done, and this was a conversation that she knew she needed to have. Yet here she was, arms folded as she lent against the doorway into the kitchen, watching on as Illyana spoke with some of her former classmates, Roberto, Dani, the three of them seemingly in their own world. It was a scene she was reluctant to interrupt, when it seemed like a moment of peace for Illyana. For the past five years she had assumed like everyone else had that Illyana had been blipped. Painful as it was, at least she had not had to imagine any of her dearest ones suffering painful fates, torments, their own personal ... hell. A flicker of pain passed over her expression. What she would give now to still have the comfort of that ignorance, if she could close her eyes to how different Illyana looked. The younger mutant had always had eyes older than she should have, than she would have if Ororo had not failed her once already, but now... Ororo had tried, truly tried, to tell herself that it was her memory that was wrong, but the doubts remained, even if she had kept them unspoken until now.
Enough of this. It was time to master herself, and Ororo stepped forwards, features solidifying into the steadfast resolve she always carried with her. “Illyana ... I was hoping that ... that we could talk.”
