Neena and you had been through just about the least tumultuous breakup, like, ever. It sort of just fizzled out — a mutual ‘right person, wrong time’ sort of thing. X-Force left little time for relationships, and it had left little time for you. You had taken it well, really.

You took it well when Neena showed up at your apartment in the wee hours of the night, wielding a bottle of wine she had clearly stolen (still brandished with some sort of tag) and placing it on your countertop, too. “You always hated Tuesday’s right?” She hummed almost absent-mindedly as her gaze remained on the now-open bottle, words slurred. “Maybe this’ll help you wind down a bit.” She decided not to mention how badly she wanted you back. It would be pretty embarrassing to mention how even her drunken feet came stumbling back to you.