Sharing Stories #41

The onset of night draped a velvet curtain over the beach scene, the stars emerging to paint the sky with a tapestry of distant lights. Ororo, her presence carrying a sense of tranquility, made her way toward Evan with a smile gracing her lips. Her gaze swept over the students, their youthful energy seemingly harmonizing with the cadence of the waves.

She stood for a moment, observing the students as they continued their beach activities, then turned her attention to Evan. "It's been a while since I've seen them so happy," she remarked, her tone carrying a mixture of warmth and contentment.

Evan's response held an unspoken agreement, his eyes reflecting the sentiment that echoed in Ororo's words. His gaze shifted between her and the students, his voice carrying an assurance that mirrored the atmosphere of the evening, "They worked hard and saw the results of their efforts... why wouldn't they be happy?"

Ororo's response held a playful glint, a mix of exasperation and fondness as she rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you renting a small private island for them to celebrate..."

Evan's chuckle wafted through the air, his amusement intertwining with the evening breeze. "That would do it too..." he conceded with a lightheartedness that matched the atmosphere of the beach.

Ororo's smile held a touch of intrigue as she considered Evan's answer. Her curiosity peaked, she raised an eyebrow, her voice carrying the question that lingered in her mind, "Still... as far as I know, this island was always a thriving resort... how did you manage to rent it?"

A shrug accompanied Evan's response, his demeanor casual as he offered an explanation that was as nonchalant as it was intriguing, "The owner owed me his life... forgoing a day or two of profits is nothing in comparison."

Evan's smile played at the corners of his lips, a gentle expression that spoke of a shared ease between them. "How are you enjoying your time here, by the way?" he inquired, his voice as welcoming as the lull of the waves brushing against the shore.

Ororo's response came with a soft hum, her eyes holding a reflection of the tranquil environment around them. "It's a nice reprieve," she admitted, her voice carrying the notes of someone who was allowing herself a rare moment of respite. A brief chuckle danced in her words as she continued, "Though I never thought I'd enjoy staying on a small island."

Evan's curiosity sparked at her remark, and his eyebrow lifted inquisitively. Ororo's smile, a testament to her willingness to share, illuminated her features as she explained, "I much prefer the open plains of my home..."

Evan's sigh seemed to hold the weight of someone who had pondered similar notions. "Home, huh?" he mused, curiosity carrying his words forward, "What was it like?" His inquiry held a genuine interest, as if he were seeking to understand the essence of Ororo's origins.

Ororo's gaze turned skyward, drawn to the star-studded expanse above. Her words held a tinge of nostalgia as she described her homeland, "The night sky was much brighter for one... it seemed much broader than the city's..." She seemed to pause, as if searching for the right words to capture the essence of her feelings.

"Liberating would be one word to describe it," she finally continued, a wistful smile curving her lips. Her gaze returned to Evan, and her question held a sense of reciprocity, "What about you? What do you miss?"

Evan shook his head gently, his eyes reflective as they met Ororo's. "I never had a home of my own," he admitted with a touch of vulnerability. His voice wavered for a moment, laden with memories that stirred emotions beneath the surface. "If I ever had one, it was with little Lily, and well, she's gone now..."

The fleeting shift in Ororo's expression did not escape Evan's keen observation. His smile, though tinged with a hint of apology, remained genuine. "Though, I didn't mean to sour the mood."

Ororo's response carried a sense of wisdom that seemed rooted in personal experience. "There's no need to apologize," she assured, her voice a gentle reassurance that blended harmoniously with the rhythm of the waves. Her smile, a beacon of empathy, illuminated her features as she added, "To speak of the dearly departed is to keep their memory alive..."

A chuckle escaped Evan's lips, a sound that seemed to reverberate with a mixture of amusement and appreciation. "Wise words," he acknowledged, the undercurrent of shared sentiment creating an unspoken connection between them. His words carried a casual warmth as he continued, "Oddly enough, someone once told me the same thing..."

Ororo's smile held a touch of curiosity, a glimmer of interest that was kindled by the mention of Lily. Her question held an air of genuine inquisitiveness, a desire to unravel the layers of Evan's past. "Still, I'm curious to know how you met Lily?" she ventured, her tone carrying a note of genuine engagement.

Evan's sigh was both nostalgic and tinged with a hint of resignation, as if he were revisiting memories that were both dear and tinged with sorrow. "It was a direct mission from General Thaddeus E. 'Dipshit' Ross..." he began, his voice laced with a mixture of dry humor and underlying critique.

Ororo's response, an eye-roll at Evan's choice of description, served as an unspoken acknowledgment of the sentiment he carried. However, her patience remained steadfast, and she listened, allowing Evan to recount his tale.

"It was a simple mission—locate and apprehend a wanted criminal..." His words carried a hint of simplicity that seemed almost deceptive, as if the narrative was poised to take an unexpected turn.

Evan's sigh was accompanied by a shift in his expression, as if the memories were heavy upon his mind. "Or at least it was supposed to be..." he continued, his voice carrying a touch of rueful irony that hinted at the twist that lay ahead.

"I'm guessing something went wrong?" Oror asked.

Evan nodded and picked up the thread of his story, the words flowing with a measured cadence. "That it did..." he affirmed, his nod a quiet agreement with the unfolding events of his past.

A subtle shadow seemed to flit across Evan's features as he delved deeper into his narrative. His voice, a mix of introspection and retrospective clarity, offered an explanation that brought the man named Donald Pierce into focus. "The man's name is... was Donald Pierce, a real piece of work..."

Ororo's smile underwent a bitter transformation at the mere mention of Donald Pierce, a name that seemed to evoke a deep well of unpleasant memories. A sigh escaped her lips, carrying a weight of experience and history, as she expressed her realization, "I was wondering why Pierce and his Reavers haven't shown their faces in a while..."

Evan's response was marked by a sense of unyielding honesty, his gaze meeting Ororo's with an understanding that transcended words. He chose not to dance around the implications of her statement, nor did he seek to downplay the significance of his actions. Pierce and his band of mercenary cyborgs were indeed no more, their chapter concluded by Evan's hand.

"I tracked him down to a safehouse in the middle of nowhere," Evan began, his voice a steady narrative that carried the gravity of his past decisions. The words bore witness to the path he had walked, a path that was not always paved with simple solutions. "And after what I saw there, it could have only ended one way..." His tone held a sense of finality, as if the conclusion had been inevitable, though it came at a cost.

Ororo's frown deepened as curiosity mingled with concern in her gaze. Her inquiry was laced with a touch of apprehension, "And Lily was there?" The name held significance, a testament to the connection that had woven its way into Evan's life.

Evan's affirmation was paired with a somber nod, a gesture that conveyed the weight of the memories he carried. "The bastard was kidnapping and selling mutants to aliens..." His voice resonated with a mixture of anger and indignation, emotions that seemed to echo the past actions that had led him down a confrontational path.

A grimace twisted Evan's features as he delved further into the depths of the past, his voice tinged with a sense of discomfort that reflected the horrors he had witnessed. "I wasn't the kindest soul back then-- far from it actually," he admitted with a measure of candor, acknowledging the shades of gray that had colored his actions.

His words were punctuated by a pause, as if the next part of the story was a heavy weight to carry. "But the sight of a little girl in a small animal cage, thin as a twig, just blankly staring at the ceiling... it wasn't something I could walk away from..."

...

Want more chapters? Then consider subscribing to my pat rēon. You can read ahead for as little as $1 and it helps me a lot!

-> (pat rēon..com / wicked132)

You can also always come and say hi on my discord server

-> (disc ord..gg / sEtqmRs5y7)- or hit me up at - Wicked132#5511 - and I'll add you myself)