Nixus: Freaking out

Phoenix hid in her classroom. She needed a quiet place to gather her thoughts. Today seemed to be harder than expected, a test of her resolve.  Who did she think she was? A former killer pretending to be a good citizen! A former killer, eager to be loved and to love freely.  Someone who had to fight her dark urges every single day.  Phoenix wanted to be the person who chose to do good. She wanted to be the person others would turn to for comfort and help. She wanted to save lives, and she had no idea of how to do that if it did not involve the skills she learned as an assassin. A day like today almost made her feel ridiculous in her attempt to become a better person. 

First, it was that sweet student of hers who was attacked by older teenagers on his way to school. Every day, when he walked past her classroom doors, she noticed his bruised and battered body. He always passed it off as clumsiness, but she was well aware of the nature of his bruises and wounds.  Today, she decided to confront his bullies with words rather than her fists. It went just as she expected, badly. They mocked her and taunted her, and it took all of her willpower not to make them eat concrete. Instead, she gave them a lecture and a warning. She told them that the next time she found a bruise on one of her students, she would replicate it on their bodies. They laughed it off and called her a liar. One of the teens tried to swing at her, but she blocked him so effortlessly that it made him reconsider continuing his assault. The warning worked for the time being, but Phoenix knew that they would get back to bullying that poor boy in no time. This time, she chose peace over violence, but the teacher wasn't so sure about being able to do it again if they pushed their luck.

Then came the second test of the day, a deeper cut, a more personal issue. A simple question asked by a gentle student who went through her first little heartbreak. "Did someone ever break your heart, Miss Phoenix?" It was enough to bring back the memories of the betrayal. She had loved someone a long time ago. In her young mind, only /he/ could actually love her. They were of similar age and went through the same ordeal. Only /he/ could understand her, wasn't it true? Wasn't it true that he faked his death and escaped Hell without her? Wasn't it true that he sold her to the Guild and left her to endure severe punishment? In the end, he simply chose himself rather than love. She noticed her body shaking and decided that it was best to isolate herself rather than subject her student to a meltdown.  As soon as she closed the door of her classroom behind her, Phoenix rushed to her desk. She sat on her chair and put both hands on her face. Her heart was beating fast... way too fast for her liking. Her upper body was shaking, and her hands couldn't stay steady. Her lips were trembling, and tears rolled down her cheeks in an uninterrupted flow. 

The honey-haired beauty still remembered the intense pain she felt when she heard news of her lover's "passing". She still remembered grief washing over her frame, turning her bones cold and her heart into broken glass. She still remembered the scream she let out when she heard the news and how hard it was to breathe. She still remembered the rage that flooded her heart upon hearing the truth from her handlers. Anton did not die; he simply left the Guild after selling her out. She remembered the hatred that put her heart back together and renewed her desire to escape the Guild. And all these emotions came crashing down again. The stress caused by her memories made her cry in that classroom. Her solitude only became heavier in the confines of her classroom. Her mind was wrecked, and she could not think straight. If she could, Phoenix would have told herself that she was not alone, not anymore.  

Marc was there. Marc was there, with his warm and strong arms. Marc was there, with his soothing voice and his intense blue eyes. Marc was there... And if he were in the room with her, he would have helped her center herself. He would have talked to her in a soft voice. He would have stroked her hair, her shoulders, planted kisses on the top of her head, and she would have felt safe. She would have felt... Safe. Right now, her mind was shrouded in panic. She could not think straight because if she did, she would remember that her old life was behind her. She would remember that her heart was at peace when she was in his arms. She would remember that her body had stopped fighting. She would remember that she was loved. Loved.... and safe.