It was cold in the guest dorms of the Xavier mansion. It was always cold there. Ever since anyone could remember it was lonely and uninviting, throughout any time of year. No matter how many times it was rebuilt. Despite its unwelcoming atmosphere though, the recently missing students of Xavier Academy were placed there until it could renovate after Black Tom's attack. Out of guilt, the team wagered, the resident X-men frequently checked up on them despite their air of quiet aloofness. After a month of hell, the ten students wanted nothing to do with the very reason they had been attacked in the first place. Especially Jubilee.
It had been one thing to be rescued, another thing to see her old friends again – but now, after another week and a half of no apologizes, no real sympathy, Jubilee fell into a quiet manner that unnerved the X-men, but was welcomed by her teammates.
In the mansion it’s cold. It’s always cold there she realizes – and in the guest dorms, there’s only one thing to remedy it.
“Madre dios, Jubicita – your fucking feet!”
Small-callused hands clamped over Angelo’s mouth as Jubilee gave the back of his neck a hoarse laugh. “Shh, dumbass. I’d rather Wolvie not storm up here and gut you. You being my friend and all.” She curled her feet into her long pajama pants and slowly let go of his face. “Sorry.”
He turned to eye her. “What’s wrong with Paige’s room?”
“Psh.” She rolled her eyes, scooting close to soak up as much warmth as she could without practically laying on top of him. “She’s a blanket hog – you better warn Jono.”
Angelo cracked a smile, settling in again under the covers. “Okay, but one kick out of you, and your ass-”
“I don’t kick, I don’t snore – I’m a fucking ninja.” Jubilee grinned, feeling sleepy again. “Even, you wouldn’t kick me out of your room would you? I sleep better with company, these days.”
The humor drained from Angelo’s face as sad realization filled his eyes. It made Jubilee bite her lip and look down at a small brownish-red stain on his tank top. Reaching over, he easily wrapped his arms around her shoulders and back and pulled her close, letting her curl against him. His chin took up its preferred spot across the top of her still short, spiky black hair. It was as if he were enveloping her, protecting her from the nightmares that she had complained about the first night she had snuck into his room – the night they all came back from California.
“I’ll wear socks tomorrow.”