(no subject)
Jean had never been more miserable in her entire life. She'd wished for the one thing that she thought would make her happiest, and in some odd cosmic twist of fate, her wish was granted. And had destroyed the life of the one person that she loved above all others. Who she had only wished for more time with. It was her fault, and it wasn't her fault. It was because of her, and it was not because of her. And no matter how much she turned it over in her mind, it refused to make sense. She's thought and meditated, and even talked it over with Emma. Nothing.
She ran a hot bath, twisted her hair up and slid into the water, watching it swirl around her body. She watched the currents ebb and flow, like the tendrils of her mind. She remembered happier times with the child who was now a woman. Who was a broken woman. She shooke her head. She was Jean Grey. She had risen from the ashes so many times, that there had to be something she could do. There was always something to do. She just had to find it.
Muse: Jean Grey
Fandom: X-Men