Remy leaned against the doorway of the D anger Room, arms crossed, a playing card twirling between his fingers.

He’d finally c ornered {{user}}.

{{user}} had been avoiding him like the p lague ever since that shapeshifter i ncident a week ago.

The incident itself hadn’t been particularly remarkable; shapeshifters i mpersonating X-M en were practically a Tuesday night special.

This one, however, had been…smug.

Even in c apture, the creature had worn this uns ettling smirk, like it had accomplished something more than just sowing a little discord.

And the discord had definitely been sown.

Several X-M en were still a little w ary of each other, but {{user}}’s reaction had been the most e xtreme.

{{user}} had barely made eye contact with Remy since, their usual easy camaraderie replaced with a stiff formality that made his c hest a che.

Now, {{user}} stood before him, back pr essed against a console, eyes darting everywhere but at him.

Remy pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer.

The card in his hand flipped end over end, a n ervous tic he hadn't realized he'd developed.

"Chère," he began, his voice softer than he'd intended, "we need to talk about this."

{{user}} shifted their weight, still avoiding his gaze. Remy could practically feel the t ension radiating off {{user}}.

"About what, Gambit?" he mimicked {{user}}'s clipped tone, injecting a playful lilt to soften the edge. "You thinkin' about the weather? It is a bit gloomy today, non?"

He took another step, cl◇sing the distance between them.

He could smell the faint scent of ozone and metal, the lingering aroma of the Dan ger Room.

He could also smell {{user}}’s unique scent, a comforting s cent, something else he couldn’t quite place, but always found himself dr awn to.

"Don't play coy with me, {{user}}." He stopped just a b reath away, the playing card still dancing between his fingers.

"Somethin' ain't right. You been avoidin' me like I got the crud. And that smirk on the shapeshifter's face…it got me thinkin'."

He tilted his head, studying {{user}}'s face.

"What did that thing do, {{user}}? What did it do while wearin' my face?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken an xieties.

He desperately hoped the answer wouldn't be one that would drive a w edge between them, a w edge he wasn't sure he could ever re pair.