Every time Marvel called my name, it felt much more meaningful. He was the first, after Charles, who called my name and I felt alive once again.
"You know that you belong to me, right?" Marvel asked me, tilting his head to kiss the palm of my hand on his cheek once again. Seeing his serene features somehow set the storm in my inside calm.
"I know. You always tell me that," I positively replied.
Seeing my convinced eyes, he smiled in relief. I guessed he was glad I admitted what he had been believing was true. But when his gaze fled from mine, an unknown dissatisfaction appeared on his face, which was very unusual, as if he was still uncertain about something.
"You're right. I've always been the one to tell you that," he admitted, his tone a bit sad. "And I've been wondering, what about you? You never said anything, so I guess you never really want me to be yours?"
