Who: Phoenix OTA What: Jean is struggling to come to terms with 'things' When: Sunday morning Where: Haven Rec Room
In the immortal words of Robert Frost, two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and Jean was struggling to decide which path to take. In fact, she had spent the morning in Nate's room, reading that poem and others to his still form, not because she was a huge fan of said poetry, but because she hoped almost beyond hope that he'd hear her with his mind and come home. In fact, not a day passed that she didn't spend hours with him in his room. Usually she spent them reading to him. The professor's library was vast and well stocked with some of her favorite classics, and it was those she chose, not sure what his studies had been as formal as hers. In fact, the little bit she'd picked up about him before his brush with the monster that had wrecked so much havoc in her life made her think his formal education had been lacking.
As lunch time rolled around, she put the book down and went to the kitchen to fix herself a sandwich, then strolled through the vast house looking for something to do, the words of the poem she'd last read him echoing in her head.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
She knew the moral of the poem. It was one her high school literature teacher had spent a lot of time on. The path less taken.
The problem was, which path was which? It was obvious in the woods. It was less so in life. And the choices in front of her were vastly different, assuming she even had a choice. Well, she did have a choice, she just wasn't entirely sure what the choice was between. She loved Eddie. She did. He'd been there for her, found her, when the rest of the world had abandoned her. He'd nursed her back to health. He loved her. She was being a fool and an idiot and she knew it. So why was there always a but? Because there was. Otherwise there never would have a been a choice to make. And the but had such a nice butt indeed. Like... really really nice butt.
Damn it. Not helping.
With a disgruntled sigh, she flopped down on the couch in the rec room to eat her sandwich, the move neither graceful nor ladylike, and propped her feet up on the coffee table with a complete disregard for manners.
Maybe Logan was rubbing off on her. A thought that made her smile before she frowned since that was truly the crux of the problem. His attentiveness suggested that he was actually interested and not just screwing around with her. She couldn't just write this off as a fling brought on by stress and hormones and worry. Which meant she should either break it off with Eddie officially, or break it off with Logan. She didn't want to make the decision rashly, or out of guilt. Which was hard, because she was being such a girl about this. She wondered what Nate would have said if she'd had him to talk to about this. Hell, she wished she had anyone to talk to about it, not that she'd drag her personal business out like that for the world to gawk at. Maybe because she was a telepath, she was almost obsessive about the privacy she had to her thoughts.
And the nightmares weren't helping. Echoes of the one that had sent her to Logan's room that first night disturbed her sleep almost every night. It was giving her circles under her eyes,
And so she sat, sandwich in hand, half eating it and half just holding it while she stared at a blank television screen, lost in her thoughts.