kindred spirits{mattie

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria others tagged (Matthew Williams) words (776)  Maria winced at the harsh tone, but smiled anyway. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had done that had earned her such a stern talking to. She had been cornered by a couple of girls - that was the weird part, she supposed. That she had witnessed so far, this Academy...or whatever it was didn’t exactly have that many girls. She was definitely among the minority in more ways than one; her skin color made her stand out long before her voice and power did any damage. No one here had quite the same dark, thick hair that she did, and no one’s eyes (unless you counted when their mutant power showed up) were quite as naturally dark as hers. She hadn’t minded! She had thought that they were on their way to befriend her. She’d smiled good naturedly and swayed a little, relishing in the relative warmth of the sun when they’d all started speaking. It was so fast that she wasn’t sure if they were going on in English or Russian, so she tried her very best to let them know she had no idea what they were saying. She waved her hands in front of her, careful not to make any actual contact with them. “No se…” Maria started, but trailed off. They wouldn’t know Spanish. “I no...know word you say.” She wanted to congratulate herself, honestly, because what she said seemed to make sense to her. The words were right, she was sure of it. But, the looks the girls were giving her almost made her take them back. Maybe she was wrong? Maybe they didn’t quite...fit like she had thought them to. A girl reached her hands out. For a second, the Mexican mutant thought the other girl was going to give her a hug. It was a little unexpected, but, hey. People might be friendly here. Maybe they didn’t have to be constantly looking over their shoulders like back home. It could be that they trusted very easily. Besides, she was really missing her family’s hugs. Muerte hadn’t been around, either, nor had any of the other phantom-like figures she normally saw. Perhaps she was lucky and the majority of them were staying home. She opened her own arms to mimic the other girl, to let her know that it was perfectly alright with her if she wanted a hug. She’d happily return it. Only, the girl didn’t hug her. If she had, she just would have touched her clothes. Her hands and wrists would have been left alone. She wouldn’t have really seen anything. But, the girl grabbed her wrists and seemed to yank her forward. Maria tried - she tried very hard to get the girl to let go, but the girl didn’t budge. A barrage of memories overtook her. The girl seemed to realize this, too, because she tried to pull away. It was too late. The young 14 year old knew some of how her power worked. She knew what was going to happen from there. Sure enough, words tumbled out of her mouth. “You mom miss you.” She nodded. “She having to. You her daughter, si?” It was supposed to be comforting to the girl. It was supposed to make her feel better. Maria was all about helping others. That was one of the things her mother had imposed to her; one of the lessons she had learned while taking care of her younger siblings. The streets of Mexico City made it hard to do so, really. The streets had wanted to teach her that it was better for her to take care of herself first before anyone else, but that was about 2 years of lessons compared to 12. Her Mamá generally had more say than any of them did. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say because the girl burst into tears and the other girls dragged her away. The guards took her away by her wrist - by her sleeve, really. He was careful not to touch any skin - and spoke to her in that hard, rushed voice that made her feel guilty for some reason. Then, he just left her alone with instructions to head to the girl’s dorm before 5:30 as if she could tell the time. “What I do?” She didn’t think she had said anything wrong, but, well, who really knew? With a shrug, she sat on the ground and crossed her legs in front of her, flattening the skirt and gazing up. At least the sky here was pretty and didn’t have that black or brown tint to it. made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew skirted around the corner, clutching his book to his chest. His violet eyes scanned his surroundings nervously, certain that he hadn’t escaped his tormentors yet. He didn’t know what he expected, on his way to Weeds, but so much of it felt like home, the classes the lunch halls, the cliques. And yet so much was different… there was no home to return to, the classes prepared them for servitude rather than careers…. And there was no family. That was the part that got to Matthew the most. He missed dinners at the table, falling asleep while his brother watched his movies, the smell of his mother’s perfume. If he was honest with himself, that family hadn’t existed in years, but it was a comfort to him to revisit the happier memories. During the night, shivering and curled up under his blankets waiting for his nightly tormentors, he liked to revisit happier times. He had always had a vivid imagination, now it was the only comfort he had, in his mind he could escape into a better world.

During the day it was better, Matthew threw himself into his studies, into the day to day tasks required of life in Weeds, into his books. The library was severely lacking in his opinion, books that encouraged ideas deemed “too inflammatory” were kept out of the hands of the students, and Matthew found himself yearning for the old classics like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, or even Brave New World. He missed the impassioned words of Verne, of Huxley, of  Hemingway, of Heller. All that was left to him were books that stayed in the superficial, that shied away from the questions that provoked true thought. In a way, Matthew thought grimly, the library was a pretty accurate representation of his life as a registered mutant. “Don’t think, don’t ask questions, just focus on approved activities.”

It was this moment, his head full of dark thoughts, that Matthew caught sight of her. Even from a distance, she was beautiful, wild black hair danced like ribbons in the breeze, her darkened skin rosy in the sunlight. She looked so peaceful in that moment, so relaxed and Matthew envied her for that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt as calm as she appeared in that moment. For a moment, he thought about approaching her—Al would have in a heartbeat. But what on earth would they even talk about? Matthew flushed, shaking his head, he couldn’t just go up to a stranger and start up a conversation! Panicked, Matthew spun around, intent on beating a quick retreat. But luck, forever his enemy, had other plans. His foot found a branch laying on the pavement and he pitched forward, hitting the ground hard.

“Ah… owwww…” Face flaming, Matthew sat up slowly, surveying the damage. His hands were bloody, and though he hadn’t torn his pants, the telltale sting on his knees hinted of more injury. Horrified, Matthew scrambled to his feet, only to sink back down with a hiss and holding his ankle. It didn’t feel bad enough to be a sprain, but he’d definitely rolled it. He wasn’t going anywhere for the time being.

word count: 534

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: XXX

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria others tagged (Matthew Williams) words (777)  It wasn’t that Maria Itzel was without friends. This was a very important fact she had to remind herself of when she woke up in the mornings. It wasn’t that she was without family. They might not have been with her in that moment - they might not be with her ever again - but they were there. They were alive, out there in the world with one less mouth to feed. Another of her cousins was bound to take over her responsibilities. It filled her with guilt, to know that a little prima had to give up her dolls in exchange for making sure the bebés didn’t eat them. Because, sometimes they tried. The bebés would eat anything they could get their hands on. The scrawny brunette liked to get spoons dipped in dulce de leche and give it to them when she noticed it. Not big spoons - that would get them too hyped up. No, she’d get a small, tea spoon dipped in the caramel-like spread and have them suck on it. Better than than to choke on the doll’s hair. She didn’t have to worry about that, here. She didn’t have much of anything to worry about, and she didn’t like it. She craved being needed. She craved being treated delicately, but not like she was too fragile. She resented them treating her like she was a doll, but not enough to make a fuss about it. She wasn’t going to break, but she also wasn’t going to complain. Mamá had taught her to be grateful for everything she was given. But, someone twisting her arm wasn’t going to snap it. She hadn’t broken in the soccer matches - her family had been too poor to afford the proper protections. She, and her cousins, would use cardboard instead of shinguards and socks that were just a little too small, just a little too big and loose, or just a little too ripped. It depended on who was giving the hand-me-down. She never minded it because she had a lot of fun. Weeds didn’t really encourage that among the older students, not that Maria was anywhere near graduating. They didn’t discourage it, but she got the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be enjoying herself. It showed what they knew of her. She supposed, in her prayers, she should thank the corrupt policemen who had sent her away from home for not bothering to know anything about her other than her mutant power. Of which, Maria hadn’t seen Santa Muerte in a while. Maybe it was because everyone had been avoiding touching her skin. That was fine. She didn’t mind the break, and the chance to be out and about without having to worry about someone’s loved one trying to get their message across. Or, whatever it was that they wanted from her. She still had a hard time figuring it out when the memories or the ghosts would speak to her in a language other than Spanish. But, she could only hope La Catrina was enjoying her vacation as much as Maria was enjoying her semi-imprisonment. “Basta…” She whispered, reprimanding herself. She had to stop and be grateful. Who knew? Maybe if she made an effort to study and learn the language, they’d reward her. Or, at least, she’d understand what they were trying to say when they reprimanded her. With that in mind, the petite Hispanic stood up and brushed herself off. She’d almost returned back to the girl’s dorms when someone caught her attention. Not that he was waving at her, or something like that. Maria had friends, but she didn’t have friends yet at Weeds. He was sitting on the ground looking at his hands, like he had tripped or something. With a small smile, she started in his direction. There were always accidents, and, if she learned anything from her adventures of babysitting, accidents tended to happen when you least wanted them to. “Hola,” She greeted, bending down a little and taking in his appearance slowly. “I Maria.” The brunette gestured towards his hands, showing him her palms and nodding so that he’d, hopefully, get the hint to do the same. “Okay, you? I no see what happen.” It could have also have been those girls. Maybe they had come back, and they had tried to talk to the boy, too? She knew that students at Weeds came from all over, and that some had just as much trouble as she did understanding what was going it. It might have been the same for this boy. “They spoke? The girls...uh, te, no...did this?” OOC: To clarify, haha, Maria was talking to herself when she said 'no' because she started to ask him in Spanish. <3 made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew looked up, his head tilting slightly at the broken English. There had been plenty of children from all over the world shipped to this secluded little spot in Russia, but usually they kept to themselves, just as Matthew had. There had been little interaction with others at Weeds, and none with those who didn’t speak share his language. Too late, Matthew wished he would have spent more time learning Spanish. He’d always had an ear for languages but spent most of his time learning French—his mother had always loved listening to the language even if she didn’t understand it. Fat lot of good it had helped him now.

His face was flaming as he met her concerned gaze. Back home, girls like her wouldn’t have looked twice in his direction, but now she was kneeling over him with what looked like concern. Concern? He barely remembered what that looked like.

“Ah… Ah I’m fine—I just tripped—“ He stopped and looked up at her. “Uh… Do you… understand me?” He was careful to speak slowly and carefully, hoping they could find some way to connect. She just seemed so… kind… and there had been so little kindness in his life lately. He got to his feet, wincing slightly as he did. Brushing his hands against his jeans to dust off his the grit that had been imbedded into his skin, he eyed her thoughtfully before trying on an awkward smile. “Ah, sorry… my name is Matthew. Matthew Fitz—er… Sorry, Matthew Williams.” He held out his hand to her, hoping she understood the gesture. “I… hope we can be friends.”

Shit. He blushed, feeling almost dizzy. Why did he have to go and say such a dorky thing like that? As if tripping and falling flat on his butt in front of her wasn’t bad enough, he had to go say something dumb like that. He could almost hear his brother laughing now. His brother wouldn’t have said anything so needy as “I hope we can be friends.” He would have cracked some joke, immediately putting her at ease. Al had always been so good at that. Not for the first time since he’d arrived at Weeds, Matthew wished his brother was there with him. At least then he’d have someone in his corner. He sighed and finally looked back at her, violet eyes, giving her another shaky smile.

“Sorry, that was forward of me… Let me start over…” He ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging through the tangled strands. “Hi, my name is Matthew. It’s nice to meet you.” His hand was still extended, an open invitation for the strange, kind, beauty that stood before him.

word count: 452

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Poor awkward Mattie...

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria others tagged (Matthew Williams) words (586)  Oh. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she have something on her face? Was it because of her thick accent? Even among the few Spanish-speakers around, she had an accent. At least he didn’t look at her like those girls that talked to her. He seemed nice. She decided that immediately. That he was nice and kind of funny. Who else would try to brush off their hands on their pants like that? He needed to wash his hands. It would sting, but at least it wouldn’t get infected. Her little cousins were guilty of doing that sort of thing all the time. Even Maria had to admit she did that sometimes, before everything happened. Fall all the time and get up, brushing herself off. Her legs, after all, were all marred with scars from how careless she had been when she was younger. Still, he was talking to her. And, he had a nice tone. Better yet, he was speaking to her slowly. He also had a funny little accent, but she knew enough to understand him. Still, he stood up. It meant that he didn’t need her to fret over him as much. Her bottom lip jutted out a little as she straightened herself out. She brushed her skirt off, a little put off that he didn’t let her see what he had done. No matter - she’d get it out of him eventually. For now, she could just giggle and nod her head. “If you talk slow, I can understanding you.” She nodded her head. “Mathew?” She said slowly, trying to get the feel of his name. It sat funny in her mouth, like she wasn’t quite saying it correctly. “Mateo? Matew? I’m going practicing until I got it, si?” Even if it meant getting up earlier before all the weird classes they wanted her to take and say it repeatedly in the mirror. She wanted to be his friend, she decided. He looked like the sort of type that needed someone to look after them. If there was something that Maria was good at, it was looking after people. She just couldn’t touch him. That’s why her face morphed into an apologetic one whenever he stuck his hand out to her. “Sorry.” She repeated again, trying really hard for her tongue not to roll with the double r’s. That was one of the things they constantly had her practicing in her speech lessons - in English, the r’s did not roll. English had too many double meanings. It was hard, but it would probably be harder for him to learn Spanish. She had to be careful. “Hi. My name is Maria.” She said slowly, thankful he had said it first. Copying what others told her were always so much easier than trying to figure it out and translate it within her own head. “María Sánchez. Nice to meet you.” She looked down at his hand and bit her lip. She very much wanted to shake it - to introduce herself and get him to see that she understood the gesture and repeat it. Only...maybe it would work. She pulled down her sleeve over her hand and placed her hand in his. It felt like she’d only just touched him - how was he so warm when it was kind of cold outside? - and pulled her hand back. “‘Do not touch anyone, Miss Sanchez.’” She recited, repeating what was constantly told to her. “Sorry.” made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

His body was always betraying him, Matthew decided irritably, trying to will away that shameful blush as Maria spoke. But his heart was even worse, thumping so loudly in his chest that he was sure the girl would hear it and get the wrong idea. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Had they met in the outside world, Matt probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to speak to her, never mind proposing friendship. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would have done, had they met in the real world… would she still be looking at him with kind eyes?

He blushed brighter when she agreed to be his friend, and even more so when she declared that she would practice his name until she got it right. He could just imagine her early in the morning, hair wild and unkempt from sleep, reciting his name in the mirror. The thought actually made him feel dizzy. No one had ever assigned him such importance.


“Ehh… don’t worry about that Miss Maria… You can call me Matt, or Mattie, if it’s easier!” Even as he spoke he felt himself wince slightly. Why did he even suggest the name ‘Mattie’, no one called him that, no one but Al. He clamped down on his emotions before he let that thought take root. He still couldn’t think about Al for too long or else he’d start crying, and he’d already made enough of a fool of himself.

Maria jerked him out of his reverie by extending her hand, covered by her sleeve. Matthew couldn’t help but eye said hand curiously, wondering why she’d chosen to cover it so. But he didn’t need to wonder for long, he listened to her explanation with a grim look on his face. “Oh, so your ability works through touch too, huh?” He said, smiling faintly. “Mine too.” He took a deep breath an lowered his own gravity, allowing him to lift from the ground and float just a foot or so off the ground. “I can make people or other objects as heavy or as light as I want just by touching them.” He landed gracefully and nodded his head to her. “So I understand why you want to be careful about touching." He paused, thinking about their language barrier. It'd be hard to stay friends unless they could actually talk with one another...

"Say… you think… maybe you could teach me some Spanish?” He looked at her eagerly. “It must be scary being in a foreign country and not being able to speak normally with a lot of the people around you… I’m not the best a learning languages but I’d really like to try for you. That way you don’t have to feel alone, right?” He managed a warm smile, hoping to comfort her. She was definitely lonely, just like him. But maybe they didn’t have to be.

word count: 484

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Ffff these two are just the fluffiest dorks on the planet

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria others tagged (Matthew Williams) words (813)  Mama always said it wasn’t good to call the gringos...gringos. She would wrinkle her nose up at the word whenever her father and her cousins would say it. She’d make sure Maria did a healthy amount of dishes if she caught her saying it, too. She had tried to get out of the habit. It hadn’t particularly worked, especially when she lived in the streets. That’s just what they would call the white people around, and so it had found it’s way back into her vocabulary. That’s why, seeing Matt’s face, she wanted to laugh and ruffle his hair. Only, she wasn’t sure how he would feel about that. She kept her hands firmly to her side until he called her miss. She was thankful that her skin was naturally tan and that, despite being in Russia where the sun was not warm and endearing like the sun back home, she was still dark enough that no one could really see her blush. Miss Maria? The name was too proper too...not her. Her teachers in class hadn’t even called her Miss Sanchez. It was always just Maria. To her friends and cousins, the same. “Okay, Mat.” She tried, not entirely sure that she had said it correctly. There was something that she wasn’t quite emphasizing, but she hadn’t had her practice yet! It would come with time. She was sure of it - he didn’t look that much older than her. Surely, he couldn’t have been as advanced. They could have some classes together, right? She really, really hoped so because she hated the crushing sense of loneliness and Matt was nice. She could tell, just by looking at him. Nice. “I be Maria, Mat! No Miss Maria.” She found herself giggling and shaking her head. She could feel her curls bounce around behind her. At least he wasn’t looking at her like she was some sort of exotic creature. That could only be considered a good thing. Ah, her power. She pulled her hand back and pulled her sleeves completely over them shyly. She didn’t like her power - no one liked her power. Her Mama and her Papa had been afraid of it - so had the police and everyone else when they met her. Since it had developed, she hadn’t been allowed to touch anyone. At least, not for long. Even a brief touch was enough to bring the “ghosts” after her, and it was rarely pretty. They never had anything nice to say, and they would stay with her for too long. It wasn’t until La Catrina came to take them away that she got any peace. But, Mateo - his power was much cooler than hers was. It wasn’t as obvious. she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. She could feel her jaw slacken and her eyes widen. “Que genial!” She beamed, clapping her hands together. Maybe she stamped just a little, too. “That no so scary! It’s,” and she winced a little when her i’s came out more like e’s, “almost like you flying!” She wasn’t jealous - she wasn’t. She liked La Catrina and she was happy for her new friend not to have such a petrifying power. She just wished that hers could...kind of be the same. Maybe she’d have more friends - maybe the police wouldn’t have shipped her off to Russia before she had the chance to say goodbye to Mexico. “Mine not good. Scary. I see ghosts? Hmm. Memorias? I no no the words. If I touching you, I see them. Sometimes, they happy. Sometimes, no. People no like that.” Still it meant a lot to her that he offered to learn Spanish. There were only a couple of others that were here that did, and they never wanted to talk to her. It wouldn’t be the same - his Spanish would be as broken as her English, and Maria had no idea how to teach. But, it was something. “I-si. No one talk to me ‘cause my English,” and she hated it for not sounding right. She couldn’t even say the name of the language right! “not so good. I be happy to teaching you Spanish, Mateo! Gracias.” She couldn’t help herself. She’d just been so starved for attention - so starved. She hadn’t even noticed it. She threw her arms around him in a big hug. Mexicans were naturally affectionate. She had been so pretty much all of her life. Maria thought she had been careful, too. Her sleeves were still over her arms. Her shoulders were covered. No skin, except her face, was showing, and Mateo was too tall for anything. Still, “Maria, no!” rang clearly, and the skeletal woman who took care of her all but pulled her away. “Oh, lo siento! Lo siento! You okay? No bad?” made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew froze, violet eyes wide as flashes of memories danced through his mind. His mother’s smile, the cake floating gently to the ground, the wind tugging through his hair as he stood teetering on the edge of the bridge… and his brother. Unlike the other foggy glimpses, the image of his brother appeared in frightening detail. It took Matthew’s breath away.

But just like that, Maria was gone, pulling away from him, and his brother vanished from his eyes, leaving nothing but a dull ache in Matt’s chest. He closed his eyes, determined not to let Maria see him cry. She had been so sweet and that hug… she had felt so warm and even now Matthew could smell her scent still lingering around him. Matthew couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. And ghosts and memories aside, he kind of wanted to do it again.

Wiping his eyes with an apologetic grin, he smiled at her warmly. “Don’t apologize… It’s okay, I’m good. Really! It… It was actually kind of nice… seeing my brother again…” Already he’d begun to forget the details, the exact hue of his hair, the tenor of his voice. He glanced back to her, looking more relaxed than he had since the beginning of their conversation and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you—er—Gracias, Maria. It meant a lot to me… to be able to see him.”

He paused for a minute. “I guess that means you saw him too… my brother… he’s really handsome, isn’t he? It’s hard to believe that we’re twins. He was always so confident, he could talk to anyone. I think you’d have liked him, Maria. Everyone liked him.” He was pretty sure she didn’t understand him entirely, but the words came out in a tumble. He had wanted to talk to someone, anyone about his old life, but the adults and even the other kids wouldn’t listen. It was dangerous to talk about your life before Weeds; there was no going back to that life and talking about it would do nothing but cause pain. He laughed and his hand remained on her shoulder as his gaze fixated on hers.

“Say… you liked my power, right? Well… if we’re careful… maybe I can show you a bit more…" He tugged off his hoodie and handed it to her. He actually didn’t mind her powers, but he didn’t want to worry her. “If you put this on and pull the hood on, you should be safe right?” He held out his hand to her with a timid smile, cheeks flaming as he told himself that he absolutely wasn’t doing this just so he had an excuse to hug her again. “We can’t go far, but if you’d like to fly, I can manage that. If you’d like to.”

And he really really hoped she would.

word count: 479

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes: Kat's been watching too much Disney lately 

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria others tagged (Matthew Williams) words (839)  This memory didn’t hurt her. It didn’t make her want to curl up in cry. There weren’t any sharp words or terrible glares, not like la Catrina would really let her see any of it. The skeletal figure had tried to shield her as often as she could. Still, she had had a hard time tearing her eyes away from the view before that. Mateo’s mamá had a nice smile. It was like his - it projected warmth and comfort and she almost wanted to see it again, but didn’t want to show it to him. It looked like it hurt him, and Maria didn’t want that. She would never want to harm her new friend. If she was being honest, her only friend. She didn’t want to tell him that those images would probably haunt her; that she would probably see it again; in moments when she was being nostalgic. When she let herself be vulnerable, those were the moments that the memories really took hold for her to see. When she let herself be sentimental and think of the nice images that she occasionally saw, she couldn’t stop them from showing up around her. She felt terrible. She hated bringing up horrible memories for people. Even if they couldn’t see them, afterwards, she could. She always could remember - the anamnesis only really faded once they were replaced with countless of others. It was worse when she was constantly around the people that she touched. Maria knew that Mateo wouldn’t blame her for bringing up such painful things - he was too nice - but she knew better than to think that it hadn’t hurt him. It did. It hurt him in the same way that it made her heart hurt; it reintroduced this longing feeling to be returned to her own family. It had to have hurt him. It had to. She couldn’t be the only one who hurt like that; it wasn’t fair. The entire image made her want to cry, and only partly because Matthew wouldn’t. None of the mutants she had met so far liked to let their emotions get the better of them. Her guardian was gone almost as fast as she had appeared between them. “Ok.” She managed, trying to swallow down the lump that was in her throat. She tried hard to keep her eyes focused on her new friend and not let them linger on the younger, twin of her friend. “Mateo,” She said quietly, shifting and shaking her head. “He...no here. He change, from then. Bigger, maybe? Like you.” She didn’t flinch when he touched her again. She didn’t, but she couldn’t keep her hand from shaking. “My power no good.” Because it wasn’t. It was terrible, and she hated that it took a toll on her. She hated that she couldn’t make many friends and couldn’t be with her family because of it. As if being torn away from her home wasn’t bad enough, she had to go and remember and feel everyone else being taken from theirs, or, like with Matthew, had to see what they had also left behind. “I like you, Matt.” She said loudly and easily, because she did. It might have been the easiest sentence to come to her. But, also because he had spoken too fast, and she wasn’t too certain what else he had said. But, she knew that much. She knew that she liked him. Matthew was quiet and easy to understand; he didn’t try hard, either. He was sweet and pretty, too. He also kept touching her whereas everyone else would have drawn away. Even the instructors didn’t really like to touch her unless they were certain nothing would happen, but Matthew’s hand was still on her shoulder. “Claro.” The word tumbled out of her mouth easily, without any hesitation. “Tu poder...no hurts. Es fun.” She stated matter of factly, but stared at him when he handed her his jacket. Wasn’t he freezing? It was cold here. The sun didn’t warm anyone up. How was he supposed to keep any of his warmth inside? She found herself giggling, even as she pulled on the long jacket and tucked her hair into the good. There was enough space that it kept it all back. She pulled the strings tightly so that it framed around her face and hid a lot of skin from view. His sleeves were long, too, so Maria was able to pull them over her hands without any problems. “Estas seguro?” She mumbled slightly, eyes wide at his outstretched hand and not entirely sure her feelings of reserve were for his safety and not her own.. Still, she couldn’t resist. That someone let her hug them and then willingly offered their hand made her giddy. Even with his hoody and all the layers between them, she could still feel how warm his hand was when she put her hand in his. “Si, please!” She nodded enthusiastically. “Please. You not scare of me, y I no scare of you.” made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

Matthew smiled happily as Maria slipped her hand into his, his heart buoyed by the trust in her voice. “I’ll never be afraid of you, Maria.”

It was true. Despite just meeting her, he felt so safe around her. She was warm and friendly and kind and trusting. She didn’t look down on him, didn’t shy away from him. And she liked him. She said that right? She actually said that. Just the thought of it made him blush. Someone as beautiful as her actually acknowledged him, and even said she liked him! Him! He knew was it was like to be feared, to be despised. And he could never fear her, never feel anything but warmth towards her.

“Okay. H-hold on tight to me. Don’t let go,” he paused and rested an arm on her waist, still blushing furiously. So much for being cool and collected… Luckily Maria didn’t seem to mind. He held her tight and closed his eyes, focusing on them. He took a deep breath and as he exhaled, the pair lifted off of the air. He swallowed, determined to give her an experience to remember. Higher they went; ten feet, twenty feet, fifty feet in the air. The air was crisp, whipping through his hair. He felt his limbs lighten, his body felt like a feather. He laughed out of sheer euphoria and squeezed her tighter ascending another twenty feet.

“It’s amazing, right? The whole world seems so small the further you get away from the surface… The air feels different up here, clearer I guess.” His voice was softer, more sure of himself than it ever sounded on the ground. He was a different person in the air, as though he shed all of his insecurities in the air. It was perfect, with the wind whipping through his hair, and the warmth of a beautiful girl at his side. It was in that instant, floating over the forests of Russia with a beauty at his side, that Matthew truly loved his power. He had been able to give this to Maria, to spirit her away from everything, the reality of cruel classmates, of a hopeless future. In that moment everything was perfect.

But of course that moment passed. Matthew could feel his control fading, could feel the pull of the earth reclaiming their limbs, its tendrils dragging them back from their refuge above the trees. Matthew closed his eyes, determined to remain in control until Maria landed safely. It was only afterwards, when they were both firmly planted on the earth once more, that the aftereffects truly took effect. Matthew released his hold on Maria, only to sink to the ground, panting. He hated how little he could use his powers, and how much of a toll they took. “Don’t worry… it’s fine… I just… have to…” He stopped feeling the wave of nausea crash over him, he curled up in on himself, waving her off. “Don’t worry… just have to… get my legs under me again. I’ll be fine.” He wanted to be strong in front of her, he wanted to be someone she felt she could rely on.

It felt nice to be relied on. And he really, really wanted Maria to rely on him.

word count: 543

tags: Maria I. Sanchez

notes:  Sorry, I can't format the colors 

by worldie on iof

[Maria I. Sanchez]

And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe maria otherstagged (Matthew Williams ) words (744) If someone would have told her when her powers first manifested that she would find someone that would willingly hold her hand knowing full well what her powers could do - okay, so even she didn’t know exactly what her powers would do, but he had a vague idea. He had a vague idea, and he still smiled when she held onto his voice. Dios, Mateo was so...sweet. He was nice and good and kind and, mierda, when was the last time she’d gotten to talk to someone like that? Her Mama? It made her heart swell, hearing he wouldn’t be afraid of her. It was nice of him to say, but even better that he really seemed to actually believe it. Maria could tell, just by looking at him. He had no idea of the destruction and the sadness that she could cause with just one touch. With a face like that, with a smile like that, she didn’t want to cause him any harm. The school already did a good enough job at that, not necessarily caring about them in the slightest. She didn’t want to cause him anymore torment. This was all very different; she liked this. She leaned into him with a smile of her own. How was he so warm when it was so cold outside? She had his jacket - would it be weird to ask to keep it? He’d asked her not to let go. It would have been easier for him to ask her not to hold on so tightly. This was exhilarating. It was so far up. She’d never flown, or...she’d been unconscious when they had transported her here from Mexico, so she had no memories of it. It was a luxury her family had never been able to afford. The air was chilly, but not exactly uncomfortably so. She felt her grip tighten around the boy who’d given her this small gift. Maria’s eyes couldn’t focus on any one thing, darting this way and that way. They even teared up. “Hm!” She found herself nodding, staring down at everything. Now that she was up here, it was pretty terrifying. She had absolute trust in Matthew. He knew his power better than she did; he wouldn’t have taken her up here if she were going to be in any danger. He’d keep her from falling. Besides, when she turned her head to look at him, she had to try not to laugh. His hair was whipping all over the place. It made her exceedingly grateful that he had given her his jacket, and that only some stray strands of hair happened to escape. Otherwise, her hair would have been a disaster and called even more attention to her. The girls who picked on her normally would be vindictive; they’d find something else to make fun of her for. “Mateo, es increíble!” She let go the moment her feet returned to the Earth. Being up in the sky was nice, yes, but she quite enjoyed getting to run around. Besides, even if he didn’t mind it, she didn’t like being picked up. She turned around just after she pulled the strings and let the hood fall back down. “Mateo?” Her dropped down to her knees in front of him, glad that his sleeves were already long enough on her hand that she didn’t have to yank them over her hands. Maria pulled at his arms, peering down at his face to make sure that he was going to be okay. He looked a little pale, and he was panting. “Hmm, no. I worry.” She was good at it, anyway. It was a silly - not a talent, but kind of? - thing she had going for her. She smiled and plopped down in front of him, using a free hand to latch onto his and pulling it in her direction so she could play with it lightly on her lap. His jacket sleeve covered her finger, but it was still possible to trace the lines on his palm in what she hoped was a soothing matter. “Eres, uh, funny. You funny.” She giggled. “You having legs there. No need again.” English was weird and so was her new friend, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it anyway. “Thank you! Es nice, the sky. You power es good, bueno. Like you.” made by remi of isc & rilla go! inspired by abby's template

[Matthew Williams]

if i only could

make a deal with God

It was amazing how easily she managed to ease the discomfort associated with overusing his powers. He sat there for a moment, the dizziness and nausea ebbing as he watched her trace the lines on his palm with her hand. Even with the fabric of his hoodie separating her finger from his skin, her touch was gentle and he closed his eyes, a content smile curling the edges of his lips.

Her words were just as gentle, flowing over him, honeyed words setting his mind at ease. She really did seem to trust him, to like him. He didn’t understand why she seemed to have such a fondness for him, he was by no means the most handsome, the most friendly, or the most powerful of the mutants here. He was a shadow—had been his whole life. And yet… here she was, smiling and saying that she likes him. That she thinks he’s… beuno… good, right?

Matthew’s breathing finally evened out and he lifted violet eyes to meet hers. She liked him, she liked his powers… how did he get so lucky? He brushed the hair from his eyes.

“I’m… I’m really glad that we’re friends, Maria.” He smiled gently and patted her hand. “I… I don’t really have a lot of those… even back home, Al was the only one who didn’t make fun of me. And that was only after years of…” He teared up and shook his head, determined not to think about the bad things that had occurred between him and his brother. If he had to remember Al, he preferred to remember Al at their best. As the brothers they were meant to be.

“A-Anyway… I’m just glad to have you as a friend.” He smiled and squeezed her hand again. “We’ll look after each other here, okay? I know it’s important to have people to look after you in a place like this. That’s what I was told at least.” He wanted to look after her, wanted to be someone she could depend on. She seemed like she could use a few more friends, just like him.

“I’m not scared of you or your power, Maria. It’s not that bad really. I don’t mind the memories… besides… it’s not bad… I get to see my brother. So don’t be so scared, okay?” He patted her shoulder, his fingers toying with the fabric almost thoughtfully. “You know… that sweatshirt looks good on you… maybe you should keep it.” He didn’t really need it, unlike his fellow students who hailed from warmer climates, the cold didn’t bother him so much. But he could tell it certainly did affect her. And though it wasn’t much, Matthew liked the idea of giving her something warm to remember him by, some small comfort during the long nights.

If it made her happy, then it made him happy.

word count: 479

tags Maria I. Sanchez

notes: XXX

by worldie on iof