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Author's note: I might just scrap this story because it's becoming too difficult to write.
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“...I always felt better when it rained,” said Ororo softly.

Logan rolled over and looked at Ororo, who was nude and lying prone and looking up at the ceiling. She didn’t originally start out naked; Logan walked in on her reading a dusty book whilst drinking a glass of while and one thing led to another and well... Admittedly, it was really an inappropriate place to have sex, but the floor of the library was just as good as any bed. The carpets were plush and there was a wonderful fire going to dry off their bodies, though they were more sweat slicked than rain soaked. He picked up a strand of white hair and fiddled with in between his fingers. “Why?”

Ororo smiled. “I’m not particularly religious; I was exposed to several beliefs while I was... away,” she said vaguely, “but it always seemed as though water was a recurring theme.”

Logan nodded understandingly and kissed the shell of her ear. “Washing away sins.” Ororo hummed and nodded. “You have sins you want washed away?” Logan hedged.

“Who doesn’t?” she asked, facing him and cupping his cheek. Her eyes got a faraway look and then she smiled. “When I was a kid-- maybe eight or nine-- I was playing with Jean and Scott. We were,” she paused and grunted as she rolled to her side to look more firmly at Logan, “playing outside and we somehow got into a fight.”

“What was the fight about?” Logan asked. “Wait, let me guess: Jean wanted to be the princess and you also wanted to be princess.”

“And the prize goes to!” joked Ororo. Logan chuckled and stroked back some of the hair on Ororo’s forehead. “No, I accidentally kicked her in the knee. We were playing soccer and I was trying to steal the ball from her. I nearly broke it.” Logan started let out a groaning laugh and palmed his face. “It was a mistake!”

“Darlin, the way you kept making mistakes as a kid it’s a wonder how Scott and Jean are alive now.”

“The best way to learn is to make mistakes.”

“And what did you learn from almost breaking Jean’s leg? To apply more pressure next time?” he snorted.

“No,” she said defensively. “I learned that bruises come in different colors, forgiveness can be earned with chocolates, and the harshest punishment is a disappointed parent.” Ororo fell silent, not looking at Logan.

In Logan’s opinion, she spent way too much time being introspective. It wasn’t smart to linger on bad memories. “So what does this have to do with the rain?”

“Oh, right,” Ororo said. She laid flat on her back and looked back up at the ceiling. “Well, Jean was healing and I was busy trying to make up for a mistake. One of the ways Charles punished me was he made me do Jean’s chores. One such chore was weeding and tending to the plants. Coincidentally, this was where I started appreciating gardening. But anyways.” Ororo reached down and gathered the hand resting on her stomach in both of hers, then kissed his palm. “One day, I was pruning some roses, trying to get it done before it rained. In my haste, I cut my finger. And it wasn’t some small cut; I practically sliced the pad off my index finger.”

“Tell me when this story starts making sense.”

Ororo smiled and rolled her eyes. “I started crying. It wasn’t about my finger-- I guess adrenaline was pumping through me so I didn’t feel it-- but about everything else. How I’d hurt Jean, how I was forced to do her chores while she got better, how Charles didn’t... Didn’t get that it was a mistake.” She closed her eyes. “I kept messing up and now I’d just sliced my finger open and was likely to get a massive infection from being sweaty and dirty. And then it started raining.” She let out a dreamy sigh. “I was getting soaked through and when I went inside I was yelled at for getting the floor dirty, for cutting my finger, and for not coming in sooner. But that didn’t matter because I just felt... better. It was like the sky was crying with me. It was nice.”

Logan listened, wondering if Ororo was slightly crazy.





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