《Iridescent ↳ Peter Maximoff》4 | nostalgia
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NOSTALGIA
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Five year old Brianna cried out, though she loved being carried around, hitting Alex Summers on the shoulder over and over, but he never complied. He laughed at her reaction and continued to carry her around the mansion, earning a disapproving glance from Charles.
"Please, Alex, put her down," he said, sounding slightly irritated. It was already an hour past her bed time, but Alex was so busy playing with her and her mind and body just weren't tired enough to welcome sleep.
Eventually, the blonde haired boy placed the girl on her feet. She wobbled before standing straight and jolting down the hallway. Charles eyed Alex suspiciously from his chair.
"Did you give her sugar?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Alex pursed his lips together and looked away. Charles got up from his seat with another irritated groan and the help of Hank's serum, and stumbled down the hallway in search of his daughter.
"Brianna?" He called, peeking into a room. She suddenly jumped out, a huge grin on her face and hands raised to look like claws as she shouted, "Boo!" Charles let out a startled noise and jumped back, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved his daughter, of course, but at times, she was a lot to handle, especially since she didn't have a mother to help care for her.
"Did I scare you?" Brianna asked as she gazed up at her father with wide sapphire eyes and a huge grin. "I scared you, didn't I?" He couldn't help but laugh a little, feeling overwhelmed with how much he loved her.
"Yes, darling, you scared me," he answered, taking his little girl in his arms and hauling her off to her bedroom down the dim hallway. She didn't protest, in fact, she seemed to enjoy having her father take her to bed. She smiled sheepishly and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her.
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"Time for bed, sweetheart," Charles said, lowering her gently onto her soft mattress. She didn't say anything, just reached for her stuffed teddy bear and hugged it against her chest as her father pulled the thick covers over her small body. The mansion was surprisingly colder than usual, but Hank promised to have the heat back on as soon as possible.
Charles smiled and tucked Brianna in, whispered a good night to her before he left, but she stopped him midway.
"What was mom like?" Her small voice said. Charles stopped and turned back to her, walking over to the bed and sitting at her side. Brianna had asked questions like this before but he always brushed them off, not wanting to have to explain his lover's fate. But this time, he didn't make excuses.
"She was..." he trailed off, searching his brain for the right words. "...absolutely stunning." He smiled and brushed a loose strand of brown hair from his daughter's small face. "Like you." This time, she smiled, listening intently to the words that he said.
"What was her name?" Brianna asked as she shifted in her position, trying to get more comfortable.
"Gabrielle." The girl smiled wider, eyes brimming with tears. Such a pretty name, Brianna thought. Charles reached out and wiped a stray year from her face.
"I'm sorry that you lost her," she said quietly.
"Brianna!" She snaps out of her daydream and turns to the approaching person, surprised to find little Amy standing above her, staring with her eyebrows pinched together. Brianna offers her a small, quick smile. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" The elder girl's nose twitched. This is an odd question, considering that neither of them are where they are supposed to be.
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"Aren't you?" She retorts, bookmarking the page in her novel and bouncing lightly to her feet, stretching her limbs out of their stiff state. She has been sitting for so long; she's not even sure what time it is. But, the sun is still peeking through the windows, so it can't be that late.
"I asked you first," Amy argues, following Brianna as she heads for the door, but halts midway to collect her books from the warm windowsill.
"Fair point," she murmurs. "Yes, I am supposed to be in class. But I learn more coming to the library every day than I would if I went to class." While this isn't entirely true, it's not entirely false either. Brianna doesn't want to spill the details of her relationship with her father to anyone, let alone someone she just met the other day. "Now, why aren't you in class?" She wonders, nudging the small girl with her elbow.
Amy smiles. "Class was over a half an hour ago, Brianna." The brunette squints at Amy, wondering curiously why she pulled that little stunt, but doesn't question it. She has a few books she aims to get finished tonight.
"Well, I'm off," she says, gathering her supply of hardcover and paperback novels and striding towards the door before Amy can press further. "Sweet dreams, Amy!" She calls out, not wanting to leave so suddenly and rudely, without a proper goodbye. Hers was proper enough, she concludes.
When Brianna retires to her bedroom and scans the remaining pages of her book, her mind wanders to the daydream she had earlier, in the library. Unsure of how she managed to remember the moment so explicitly, she retrieves her leather dream journal from her desk drawer and jots down a quick summary of what she remembers.
The journal is nearly filled front to back with short summaries of her visions and dreams. There are so many, so she always remembers to put the date at the top and page number at the bottom. Already, more than one hundred pages are filled out.
Unfortunately, many of the dreams were not as pleasant as the one today; but they were nightmares.
***
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