Jean was historically a terrible lightweight, so the drink she poured was small and weak. She already was worried about blubbering and alcohol would certainly help her down that path. Sitting down next to Emma, every muscle in her body screaming tension and worry she took a small sip before diving in.
“There’s four now. Scott, you, myself and Kitty. I’d never even spoken to Kitty in the past, and I never told Scott the dreams. And… I’m trying so hard to not be ridiculous but they’re so much worse than just dreams. When I’m in them they feel so real, Emma. Like I lived it, like I was the one who lost control and became this being of destruction. I know there’s a rational reason for it all, but I can’t see it and it’s terrifying me.”
She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “The worst is Scott’s face. He’s always there, you’re usually not, and a whole host of other people I know are my friends but that I’ve never met before. But the look on his face… I can’t describe it. It’s just so terrible, and I don’t understand why.”