Never Alone

23 - Vérité

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men series or anything about or related to it- apart from this story.

Hey, everyone :)

So, firstly, I just want to remind you of the question offered last update about chapter length. No one has replied so far, and it's fairly important that I get some answers- just a reminder :)

One more thing: Those of you who know a bit about X-men might be detecting a few differences between the original X-men universe and this story. For instance, the Mutant Registration Act is much more serious in this story and a mutant who doesn't follow it is in huge trouble. Another thing is that the times are different: the whole mutant thing is only now becoming a big deal, and this story is set in modern times. Maybe there are other differences too, but these are the main ones I can think of right now. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that my story is about X-men, but it's also my story and I've changed up a few things to fit the vision I have. I hope this doesn't bother anyone.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Vérité

(Truth)

Violette got ready as quickly as she could, and yet Jake came into the bathroom, fully ready, as she was still just rubbing concealer into her discolored, aching skin. He was smirking when he saw how far along she was, an eyebrow cocked. She involuntarily blushed. "What?" She muttered shyly, looking back at the mirror at herself and continuing with the makeup.

"Not even my sisters take this long," he notified her teasingly, making her smile and roll her eyes.

"Yes, well, your sisters are, what, eight and thirteen?"

"Good point." He made his way over to her and jumped onto the edge of the counter, watching her rub the flesh-colored cream into her skin. She was beautiful. He smiled to himself when he noticed more blood rush to her cheeks at his staring.

"What??" She asked again, obviously embarrassed.

He grinned wryly. "Nothing." He felt a little better when the bruises were covered, but no matter how out-of-sight they were, they weren't even close of being out of his mind. His gaze turned dark. "Do they hurt?" He asked softly, reaching over to trace his fingertips over where a purpley-yellow discoloration had seemed to disappear from.

She glanced at him, her playfulness disappearing as quickly as his had. "A little," she mumbled, turning back to apply some eyeliner to the lining around her purple eyes.

He frowned. His fingers still ran across her silky skin, and the waves of her brain were tapping at his. Then he suddenly felt a surge of pain, both physical and emotional, as well as a burst of fear. His own heart and body reacted to it and he removed his hand as though he had been electrocuted, with a gasp. She looked up then. "What?" She asked, startled.

He knew she usually hated it when he read her mind, and was thus reticent to explain what had happened. "I- nothing."

Her eyes searched his, darting back and forth, and for a few irrational moments he felt as though she were the telepathic one. He swallowed and replayed the feelings through his memory. That was what she was feeling, of course. But she seemed so... happy. How often was she wearing such a perfect mask? He sighed. "I'm sorry, Violette. I... inadvertently... read your mind."

Her eyes grew surprised, and then danced back to the mirror, looking at herself unseeingly. "Oh," she said simply, then continued applying the dark liquid. Guilt stabbed at Jake.