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Victor wasn’t the type to show up to apologize with flowers and wine– or apologize at all.
But he did show up. Around a year after the last time they’d seen one another, parting on bloody terms.
Mystique found him in the safehouse where she’d been staying while she put her Brotherhood back together– returned to find him lounging on her couch.
The radio was playing La Mer when she walked in, and the air was thick with nostalgia.
“Took you long enough to get back, Leni,” Victor growled, as he sat up. “Feels like I’ve been waiting 30 years.”
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