[ By instinct, she does, because she denies, pushes it away, but to see Parker, to touch her, was like reaching for a part of herself that had been cut out. Taken away from her, and she ever so an over eager thing. She shifts her weight forward and presses her up into her. Reckless, warm, she's a burning thing, all heated breath against her chest, because she could turn her ear to her chest, feel it speed up with the rock of her hips as she had done too many times before. An adoring thing in her lap like this, a torturous thing she knows.

Nothing had changed apparently, and she makes a pitiful small sound of wanting, or maybe regret, hurt. She's cruel, cruel, cruel. Like she's holding her heart as if it were a physical thing, between teeth and rolled against her tongue. Swallow back on the blood. ]

Then why are you eager to side with the people that want me dead? Want us all dead? Me, Steve... the rest of our brood?

[ They're as precise as cuts, as she trickles her fingers up, crackling and singing with their powers against her skin in little searing bursts of energy pure enough to burn that she generates effortlessly these days. Until she's tilted her face up under her chin, nose pressed against her jaw in a thready sigh. ]

I miss you so much.