Freaks

VIII

Your POV:
We arrived at Peter's house just as the sun disappeared under the horizon.
His house was bigger than I would've expected. The exterior was made of pale gray stones and the roof was jet black, slanting in a downward motion. It sat behind a long driveway, which had a mailbox hanging towards the street that read "Maximoff."
He led me up the stone path to his front door step. An odd frayed mat that I'm assuming once said "Welcome" lied in front of the door.
Yep. There's something definitely weird about this guy.
He swung open the unlocked door and closed it behind me. I could sense two other energy forces in the house. One was tired, definitely facing some troubles, but overall content. The other was young, happy, carefree—he must have a younger sibling.
There was a woman's voice shouting from the kitchen,
"Peter, you said you'd be back by seven."
The voice drew closer until she was standing in front of us.
"Oh, I didn't know you had company. You never have company," she added.
"Mom..." Peter made a motion across his neck, signaling for her to stop.
I couldn't help but laugh a little.
I smiled,
"Sorry to intrude. My name is ___."
She returned my smile,
"No worries, dear. Are you hungry? Do you want anything to eat?"
"Actually, I'm okay right now. Thank you."
"Alright. Well, if you guys need anything you know where to find me," she said before walking off.
Peter turned to me,
"She was kidding about me not having company."
I smirked,
"Was she?"
He laughed,
"Nope. C'mon."
He led me to a wooden door and downstairs into the basement.
The whole area was covered in orange shag carpeting and wood-paneled walls. I could've definitely guessed that Peter lived there by looking at the room's contents. Arcade games, a ping pong table, cassette players, speakers, and a giant shelf of stolen things.
"Wow, I wasn't far off when I called you a kleptomaniac, was I?"
He chuckled as he rummaged through his cassettes,
"No, not really."
A tape clicked into the player and began to emit Led Zeppelin.
I sat down on the velvet patterned couch and he took a seat next to me.
"So what did you do today? I bet it wasn't as great as how I spent my day."
"And how did you spend your day?" I said laughing.
"Being anti-social and playing video games in a basement. Beat that."
"I see you're living each and every one of your days to the absolute fullest, Quicksilver. Actually, as much as I would love to prove you wrong, I would rather be alone in a basement than where I was today."
"Where was that?"
I sighed and looked at the ground,
"My grandmother dragged me to some anti-mutant rally. She's actually thinking about joining the committee that organizes those things."
He was silent for a little bit before asking,
"And...what about you? What do you think about mutants?"
I could sense fear arise in him.
"I don't know. They're just people, you know? Like just because some random gene is different than the rest of the population doesn't mean you should be locked up or killed or anything."
His fear vanished.
"Is that what upset you?"
"Sort of. Yeah."
"Can I tell you something? And can you promise to not think I'm weird?"
I smirked,
"Peter, I already think you're weird. But nonetheless, continue."
He paused for a bit, scanning the floor before stating,
"I'm a mutant."
The statement didn't surprise me much, it more so made me scared, because now I felt obligated to tell him what I was hiding too.
But I didn't. I couldn't. I didn't have the strength.
Instead I asked,
"So...what's you're ability?"
He vanished for a fragment of a second, but I could still sense his adrenaline moving throughout the room. He returned to his spot again, only this time wearing a different shirt and holding a glass of lemonade. One of the arcade games behind us played a victory melody and flashed across the screen, "You Win!"
"Speed," he stated not even close to being out of breath.
My secret was yearning to escape my mouth.
"You're not freaked out or anything, right?" He asked.
"No, no. Of course not. I actually had my suspicions."
"To be honest I thought you'd run away screaming or something. That's why I didn't tell you, I thought maybe you would stop talking to me."
I smiled,
"Peter, nothing would make me stop talking to you."
Our eyes locked and I was fully engrossed in his gaze. His brown eyes warmed my chest, and before I knew it, our lips had collided together.
I closed my eyes and took in his energy. The emotions were stronger then I'd ever sensed or felt before. I felt him pull away suddenly.
"What's wro—"
Then I opened my eyes and saw. The room was full of bright, glowing streams of energy.
"Woah," he said marveling at them.
I quickly waved my hand and dissipated them into the air.
"Sorry. I got a little carried away," I said with red cheeks.
"Are you kidding? That was amazing! What was that?"
"My powers...I'm a mutant too. I'm sorry I did tell you before, it's just...if my grandmother finds
out—"
"—I get it. It's okay."
"Thanks, Peter."
I kissed him on the cheek and he grinned, creating dimples in the sides of his face.
"For what?" he questioned.
"For being the only person who understands."
He smiled and grabbed my hand,
"Do you know what this means?"
I gave him a confused look,
"What?"
"I was right."
"What on earth could you possibly be right about?" I said laughing.
He grinned,
"At the diner. I said you were a mutant. I was right!"
I rolled my eyes and he pulled me close, with our lips only inches away, our noses practically touching.
He grinned even wider and whispered,
"I told you so."
I built up some energy on the tip of my finger and lightly zapped him on the nose.
We bursted out into laughter as he rubbed his bridge.
"That's the only one I'll give you, Maximoff," I added before kissing him again.