When Nyx woke, he was gone. The sheets on his side of the bed empty but pulled straight and neat. Sunlight streamed through the window. Squinting, she sat up against the pillows.

It figures he'd still go to work the day after dying rather than risk continuing the conversation.

Nyx slipped out of bed and stole another of Angel’s t-shirts before tugging on a pair of jeans she stashed here the last time. He pretended not to notice the items she'd leave behind and in return, she'd try to hide them well.

He clearly wants space and has no intentions of settling down anytime soon.

She cleared the dresser of her discarded clothing. Her hands shook, pulling out a few pairs of jeans, a skirt, and three tops then piled them on the center of the bed.

If he didn't have that power... I don't want to think about it. Where did it even come from after all this time? Why is it so much like Ivy's? Does it have anything to do with her at all?

That thought in particular dug in its claws and wouldn't let go. Almost always, children born to mutant parents had at least one of their parents' powers, or on odd occasions, they'd get a mix of both or perhaps gain some recessive ability passed on from a grandparent. Sometimes even generations later, humans would have a mutant child because some distant ancestor had the genes. Ivy herself was likely one such case as her abilities were considered to be so rare, she was the only person in either living memory or written historic record to have them.

What are the odds another would be born naturally within twenty years of each other?

Still chewing on her thoughts, Nyx went downstairs to the kitchen to find a tote bag. The house seemed so empty and quiet without him. It was hard to believe only two nights ago, a raging party had occurred here. Aside from some stains on the dark blue carpet in the living-room, there was not a crumb out of place. The furniture had seen better days, but at least it was clean.

The stuffing in the green floral couch had flattened long ago. It was missing its legs ever since the back right one snapped off during a party a few years ago. A wool throw blanket folded across the top of the armchair. The walls were decorated with rock posters, cartoon women and horror movies. All of his records were arranged neatly on the shelf against the back wall, the record player perched on top. Each one placed in careful, alphabetical order.

It’s not going to take long for him to notice my stuff is missing.

She went into the washroom, gathering her toothbrush from the cup beside the tap and scrounged for any other items she’d left behind; deodorant, lipstick, elastics and eyeliner.

He died right in front of me, and he'd do it all over again if he could. I've been a fool to wait for so long, but I can't stand to think of being without him. There has to be some kind of way.

Nyx found a reusable bag in the kitchen. She snooped around his cupboards and in the fridge, finding them all empty just as she feared.

It didn't take long for her to gather the items up and stuffed them all inside of the tote-bag. There had been no sense in picking at it, but Angel’s attitude told her all she needed to know. His reaction was born out of fear, but to her, it spoke volumes.

Nyx took her stuff and found her skateboard in the coat closet. She'd left it here one day when Angel offered to fly her home instead.

There's still room to change my mind. Maybe I should, but if I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to.

No more bending. Not when she was this close to breaking. If they were to stay together, even as they were, she had to maintain some distance. Angel would either meet her where she stood... or not.

She stepped outside with her skateboard tucked under one arm, and the tote slung over the other. The afternoon sun blared in the clear sky and cicadas hummed. Grasshoppers scattered through the long grass as she walked across the yard to the street.

The asphalt was cracked and pitted, catching up her wheels as she rolled along the road toward home. Her parent's cabin was only a few blocks over. The tote bag bumped against her hip.

A stone caught the front wheel, sending Nyx face first onto the sidewalk. Cursing, she got up on all fours and struggled to her feet. The rips in her jeans had grown wider, leaving her skin torn and bruised.

Nyx brushed herself off and looked up at a squat red house. The boarded windows and decayed siding told her it was still unclaimed. Scraggly black - berry bushes guarded the front lawn from view. The driveway had begun to grow weeds through the cracks in the pavement.

She approached with caution. Just because people hadn't moved in didn't mean racoons hadn't. The deck sagged under her weight and she was mindful of where she stepped. The boards nailing the door closed had already been pried apart by another nosey investigator.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The layer of dust coating the yellow hardwood glistened as the light from the door hit it. The main floor appeared to be an entirely open concept with a large space for a living-room and dining area, and a kitchen in the back.

She flicked the light switch, surprised to see it click on. The house creaked as she moved and it somehow looked filthier in the light.

At least I won’t have to have Julian come wire the place.

She tensed.

When word gets around about Angel’s fight with Aluminum Carl, he’s not going to be happy. I hope he takes it easy on him for once.

The narrow staircase led her up to a half-story. She was cautious of loose floor boards and the wobbly railing. One room to the left could be a bedroom and the other could be for her drums.

She didn't waste time staking her claim and brought her items inside. Under Portsmouth law, the house was now hers until she said otherwise.

When mutants had first arrived on the island, the abandoned Portsmouth fishing village was in shambles. Over the decades, they worked on fixing up the buildings and adding more infrastructure as needed. Any empty cabin was fair game for an island resident in need of one.

In the beginning, they were gradually occupied by mutants fleeing the mainland in search of refuge. Later, recently liberated mutants from The Old Academy took them during and after the war. These days, the remaining cabins were picked by recent high school or Academy graduates and newly weds.

At one time, she had imagined that for herself and Angel like some kind of preordained destiny. No matter how long it would take, that's how things would ultimately end up. She could see it in her mind’s eye so clearly and it made everything worth it, kept her patience in line.

She’d always tell herself ‘someday.’

Now, the picture blurred and faded until she could no longer discern what could possibly be in its place. Angel had agreed to hide his abilities, but she knew it couldn’t be forever no matter how hard he tried.

If he bothers to try at all.

Then Ivy would come, and no matter how they responded she would have the final say.

It isn’t fair. Everything was fine yesterday. I want to go back.

To When?

The question she posed to herself startled her at first, but in an attempt to answer, she could not think of a time together when turmoil had not tilted right around the corner.

Standing in the empty living-room with tote bag in hand, surrounded by dust and creaking wood, her eyes welled up with tears. Disillusionment plucked free the final thread in her heart. She had been holding on to a dream she mistook for a promise for so long it had become difficult to tell the two apart.

Angel will be relieved to have the pressure off. The houses are close enough together we can visit each other even easier than we can now. I can't think of a better compromise.

Nyx choked back the last of her tears, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She left her bag behind in the living-room to mark her place.

She took off down the street on her skateboard toward the dock to find him, careful to dodge any more stray rocks. The cabins cruised by, getting further apart. The port became visible, coming up on her right. The ferry would come in later this afternoon filled with supply trucks to unload. In the meantime, crates stacked out on the dock waited to be taken off to the market and other shops in the village. The square brick terminal loomed in front.

The parking lot was much smoother than the street as she rolled toward the terminal. All the while, she tried to think of how to tell him about the cabin, that she didn’t want to move in with him anymore, that they should take a good, long break.

She came up to the door and hopped off her skateboard, tucking it under her arm. The dock itself was sealed up behind a chain link fence. No one could enter without authorisation. She went around the side of the building, keeping her eye out for Angel.

Instead, she found Timmy leaning against the dumpsters, smoking a cigarette. Nyx went over to the chain-link, looping her fingers through the metal, and jiggled it to get his attention.

“Hey, Timmy, psst,” she called.

Finally, he looked in her direction and walked over. The yellow stripes on his safety vest shimmered in the sun.

Timmy approached the fence. His eye was still bruised around the bottom rim. A crusty scab formed over his busted lip. The cigarette dangling from his mouth was nearly burned down to the filter.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Is Angel around?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since last night. He’s an asshole and everything, but he didn’t deserve that.” Timmy whistled through his teeth. “Fuck, if Ivy finds out someone died -”

“He’s not dead,” Nyx snapped. “I guess I over reacted. His nose bled a lot and it scared me.”

“Well shit. I’ve been telling everyone he’s dead.” Timmy tapped out the last bit of ash off the end of his cigarette. “Oops.”

“Why the fuck would you go and do something like that for?” Nyx exclaimed.

“Wishful thinking?”

Nyx kicked the fence and Timmy stepped back, startled. “Asshole!”

Timmy laughed. “Relax, I’m teasing.”

“It’s not funny,” she growled.

“Take a joke, would ya? He’s alright, you said so yourself. What are you so worked up about?”

“I’m not.” Nyx took a deep breath through her nose.

I can’t believe this asshole. Now I’m going to have to go around setting everyone straight.

“So Angel’s not here then?”

“No, that’s part of the reason I thought he croaked.” Timmy tossed the butt of his cigarette to the ground. “For the record, I’m glad he didn’t. That was awful- “

“Yeah, well, he’s fine now,” she said, not wanting to discuss it further. “If you see Angel around, let him know I’m looking for him would ya?”

“Will do,” he said.

Nyx got back on her skateboard. There was one last place she wanted to check, and headed out to the beach.