Re: [quicklog: louis d/jean g]
[The accent did take her by surprise, but pleasantly so. Jean kept the gentle smile on her face, giving this man a once over with a dart of her eyes. The weariness, the anxiety, it was plain on his face, and Jean wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him to tell him everything was going to be alright.
The door shut behind them, and she grew more worried as the man simply stood there in the foyer for far too long. Jean had those telepathic walls up in spite of how easy it would be to just take the information she wanted, and while this man, tired and worn as he appeared, didn't seem to be the type that would snap at her, she wasn't going to take the risk of scaring him away.] The pleasure is mine, Louis. [She took his hand, her flesh hot to the touch, fire coursing through her veins.]
Of course. [Her hand brushed against the back of his arm, a soft guidance towards the stairs before her fingers trailed free.] My office is upstairs. [She kept her pace slow to walk beside him, leading him into what she always knew as Charles' office. But Charles was dead. Scott had killed him. Because of the Phoenix. Domino had been telling the truth, she knew that, but it had all seemed so unbelievable. Scott, her Scott, had murdered the man they treated as their father. This was why the Phoenix Force needed to be controlled. Bright green eyes stared off into infinity as her feet moved in rote to the ornate office, furnished with sumptuous chairs, expensive artwork, and a massive desk that commanded the room.
However, Jean instead led them to one of the couches in the corner, comfortable to sink into and far less formal than being around the desk. That was for official business. This wasn't a lecture for an unruly child.] Please. [She motioned for him to join her as she sat, long legs crossed before her, and concern for this man written all over her features.] How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? A drink?