the pearl


Sometimes — just sometimes — I wish I were able to read her mind. I wish I could see what she sees, feels what she feels, tastes what she tastes —

What do I taste like when I kiss her? She tastes of berries and oranges, tart sweetness against my lips as she smiles into her kisses. Do I taste of fresh rain, snowflakes, perhaps the faint tang of ozone from the lightning I can call down from the sky?

She laughs when I ask her these questions, but they are important, at least to me. Who am I? What am I? How does she feel about me?

Does she smile at my kisses, but laugh at me when I am away from her? Does she still want Scott?

Will she go back to him? Will he taste the berries and oranges of her kisses? Will he kneel before her as she smiles and strokes his hair? Will she love him as much as I love her?

I do love her. As I love the rain, and the wind, and the clouds above me, the clouds that call to me. They are my life.

And she is my life.

I wish I could know if I was hers.

This X-Men story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at And you can feedback her at