Hearts Before The Storm

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of our breathing. Colossus held me like I was made of glass and steel at the same time — one thick arm curled protectively around my waist, the other hand gently stroking my hair. The new vest still lay across the chair where he’d carefully folded it after our celebration. I traced lazy circles over the scar on his collarbone, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. “I still can’t believe it’s real,” I whispered. “You. Me. That vest with your name on it.” He tilted my chin up with two fingers, his gray eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. The giant who could crush bone looked at me like I was the only light in his world. “It’s real, Lena,” he said quietly, voice like warm gravel. “You’re not just my old lady. You’re the woman