Chapter #11, Something New, pt. 2
Southampton, Long Island
July 4th, 2004
8:25 p.m.
She couldn’t believe just how quickly his mood had changed. As far away as 50 yards, Jean could sense her ex-husband’s almost happy disposition; it fairly radiated off of him, until he was close enough to get a whiff of her. In the back of her mind, Jean had wanted to ask him just what had him in such a good mood, but knew by the way he was staring her down right then that probably wasn’t such a hot idea.
She’d seen the dangerous turn in his eyes the moment she’d said their daughter’s name. His posture had even changed. Most important, however, was the way he was looking at her now; it wasn’t necessarily angry…’hurt’ would’ve been the first word to come to her mind.
“Does Wingless know yer here?” Logan walked past her to the back door, taking out his keys.
Jean’s eyes followed him, narrowing at his unsympathetic jibe at her boyfriend. As a youth Warren’s misguided”and ultimately tragic”trust in his father had allowed the psychotic man to lure his own son into a trap, resulting in the loss of the angelic appendages. It was still a sore spot for Warren; one Logan exploited time again, after learning of their emotional affair during the latter stages of his marriage to Jean.
Choosing to side-step his rude greeting, Jean replied, “I don’t have to clear everything I do with Warren, Logan. Besides, this has nothing to do with him.”
With a sore chuckle, Logan roughly swung the door open, but didn’t step in as he turned his head to her. “I’ll take that as a No.”
She took a step to follow him in, but he didn’t move, making it clear that he didn’t want her inside. “Logan, please…just for one night can we please be civil?”
He hated himself for beginning to melt, but the look she passed his way read ‘important’, and Logan had to admit he was at least a little curious why she’d shown up at his doorstep after almost a month. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms in the least, and Logan had thought he’d made himself clear that her kind of ‘help’ wasn’t warranted and certainly not wanted.
With a low, agitated growl, he dropped his shoulders and turned away from her, heading into the house. Behind him, Jean’s eyes brightened just a little that he hadn’t out-right refused, and followed him through the door. She was secretly thanking whatever it was he’d been up to before she came; whatever it was, she hoped he’d keep it up.
“So, what d’ya want?” he tossed his house keys on the kitchen island counter top, going straight to the fridge for a beer.
“I…(sigh), you know it’s getting close to That Time.”
Logan popped open the bottle with one hand, tossing the cap to the counter. He watched her, but didn’t respond.
Standing on the other side of the counter, Jean tried to get some feel of where his emotional state was concerning their daughter. Logan had always been hard to ‘read’, and the few times he actually allowed her into his mind had proved a costly mistake, even she would admit, so Jean tread with much caution.
“Don’t.”
She was shaken from her concentration as she looked up at him, mildly embarrassed that she’d been that transparent. Her skills were still in an intermediate stage, having no formal training, and most”if not all”of what she knew about telepathy was self taught. Unfortunately, Logan had been her willing (and then unwilling) guinea pig for a while. “Logan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He only grunted, gulping down the brew like it was water.
“I just…” She looked around the kitchen as if the proper explanation lay within the cabinetry. “…I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t.” He wiped a dribble of beer from his chin, then elaborated, “It’s a little late for that; ya think?”
“No,” She pressed past his hurt and mistrust; she’d done it once, why not twice? “As a matter of fact, I don’t. I’ll always worry about you, Logan. Even with the way things turned out…between us, we still share something special. Even if she isn’t with us any longer.”
He began to get uncomfortable, and she could tell. His body seemed suddenly tense, and his eyes looked anywhere in the room other than in her direction. Jean knew to expect this; she’d seen much worse from him…
“I don’t wanna go into this right now…and especially not with you.” He set the bottle down on the counter between them. “So, if you didn’t come to talk ‘bout anything else…”
She sighed, realizing that the door of opportunity had closed swiftly. Taking a few tentative steps forward, she held out a hand, letting him see she meant no harm. Softly, she whispered, “Logan, it’s been almost a year to the day. I know you’re still in pain. I am too. But you can’t keep on like this. All of your unresolved issues w”“
“‘Unresolved issues’?” he scoffed, taking a small step back. “Is that what she is to you? My ‘unresolved issues’?”
“Listen to me”“
“No, Jean, you listen. If this is some lame attempt to get me back on the couch so you can poke around some more”f’get it.” Logan tried to get his heart rate to calm a little, but the deeper they got into this conversation, the antsier he was getting. The hackles on the back of his neck rose, and all kinds of unpleasant images reared their ugly little heads, reminding him of their failed marriage, and the door upstairs he still couldn’t bring himself to open.
She stopped her forward momentum, a disappointed expression passing over her face. She knew deep down that she should press the issue; for his own sake more than hers. But Logan wasn’t going to make things easy. His defense mechanisms were fighting her every step of the way. Gathering herself together, she decided that maybe this wasn’t the best time to do this; Logan had obviously been surprised by her presence, and she knew that had automatically raised every wall in his arsenal. “Fine, Logan…”
Heading back toward the door, she paused just a moment to regard him. “…you know, when I saw you come up from the beach, I thought maybe, just for a minute, that I hadn’t made a mistake in coming here like this. You almost looked…well, like you weren’t carrying the troubles of the world so much. It was nice to see you like that…”
His only answer was silence, as she quietly closed the door behind her. Alone, Logan slowly shook his head to himself, wondering when his ex was going to get the picture that she couldn’t fix things this time. Still watching the door, his expression suddenly softened, and he exhaled audibly. Somewhere deep down, he knew this was her way of saying she still cared, and that she was sorry for everything that went down between them, but even if Logan was ready to forgive her that, he was terrified of letting her back into his head. There weren’t many things in this world that frightened James Howlett, but that was certainly one.
Running a hand through wild hair, he turned away from the door, and then stopped, as if he’d just heard her last remark. It reminded him of something, and he shuffled through the messy drawers of the kitchen for several moments before he found what he was looking for.
Scribbling furiously before he managed to forget, Logan took the post-it note and went to the fridge, where he stuck it beneath a magnet. Stepping back, he remembered the magnet had been one his daughter’s favorites: a little memento from a family trip to Disney World…
Smiling sadly, he reached up and touched the grinning faces of The Little Mermaid and her handsome prince. His fingers hovered above the piece of paper he’d placed there, and his thoughts shifted as he thought about just how long he’d wait before dialing that number he’d scrawled on it…if he should dial it at all.
Xavier Estate
Later that night…
After an exciting night out at Liberty Island, Xavier and his guests returned to the mansion in high spirits. Most of the younger ones settled into the built-in movie theater downstairs for a late night of action flicks, while some of the older guests either retired, or in most cases regrouped, ready to paint the Island red at local clubs.
Erik made sure that Charles had settled in before he took off for the night, telling everyone he had a mountain of paperwork to greet him after the holiday. Only he and Charles knew of Erik’s secret little project; a favor to Xavier on behalf of one he loved…
Standing in the doorway to the home theater room, Ororo watched the younger students of her father’s school as they tried to vote democratically on which movie to watch. She chuckled, watching Jubilee lobby for her current favorite movie star, Brad Pitt.
“That girl can talk you into anything, can’t she?”
Ororo refused to let her smile falter, even as she felt Scott standing close behind her. He’d been pretty much attached to her hip the entire night, but they’d managed to get along pretty well. It was getting late, however, and Ororo’s understanding mood was wearing thin w/ her increased fatigue. “Yeah, looks like it’s going to be rock-hard abs and sexy dimples tonight.”
He chuckled a little at her dry wit, following her with his eyes as she turned away from the door to head toward the stairs. She didn’t sigh out loud upon hearing his footfalls behind her; she didn’t even turn around, reaching out to grasp the railing as she headed for bed.
“Ro?”
Slowing just a bit, she barely turned her head as Scott looked up at her from the base of the stairs. “Scott, I’m a little tired. Whatever it is, can it wait till morning?”
He grinned boyishly at her, ready to pick up their emotional dance around each other once more. He’d been feeling pretty lucky since their trip to the Statue earlier, where they’d watched the fireworks together. Easily closing the distance between them, he offered, “Sure. I’ll walk you up, then.”
She knew it couldn’t have been that easy.
Most of the way up they made only occasional small talk; Scott contributing about 85% of that. When they reached the door leading to the top floor room, Ororo turned to him with a somewhat forced smile, and said, “Well, good night Scott.”
He smiled, but didn’t walk away. Scott took his hands out of his pockets and leaned against the side of her door, watching her. “It was, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t like that look in his eyes. “Scott, I…”
“Wait…” He leaned up, and after a quick look around to make sure they were alone, he continued, “…Ororo, it’s been great seeing you again. More than great, actually. It got me to thinking”“
“Scott, I don’t think”“
“”about how things used to be. You know, before.”
She squeezed the doorknob, wishing desperately that she was anywhere but there right then. Ororo finally realized that what she needed most was to face this head on. Turning to him, she set her eyes firmly, her shoulders squared. “Scott, I know we’ve been getting along much better than when we last saw one another, but that doesn’t mean anything’s changed.”
“Doesn’t it?” He placed an arm on the wall beside her, completely in her personal space, and gazed down at her with an expression that spoke volumes. “I tried to tell you how I felt in my letters.”
“I never read any of them.”
“I know. And you shouldn’t have had to. That’s why I came back this time. To tell you in person what I should have a long time ago.” He was hypnotizing her with his stare, as he drew in closer, his voice barely a whisper.
Ororo knew she should be stopping him, telling him that this wasn’t the right time, place or anything for this. But there was a part of her that hung onto the pain and embarrassment of their childhood, that still wanted to know why he’d hurt her so, and if he was even sorry for it.
At her silence, he closed his eyes and reached up to carefully remove his glasses. After a quick breath, he opened his eyes.
Ororo’s shallow gasp was enough of a pleasure to him; he was proud of himself as well, but tried not to show it as he gazed down at her. “I didn’t think I could do this again. You know, I couldn’t have done it the first time without your help.”
She knew that wasn’t completely true, but found herself slightly mesmerized by the burning swirls of crimson energy that circled his irises. She remembered seeing the devastating power behind his mutation; it was that awe that kept her rooted to the floor right now.
Scott knew that, and planned to exploit it.
Leaning in quickly, his lips parted just barely as his eyes closed again.
“Egh.” Ororo’s hand shot up just in time, her index finger covering his pouting lips and firmly pushing him back.
Confused, Scott replaced his glasses and opened his eyes to question her. “Ro”?”
“No, Scott, don’t ‘Ro’ me. Look, it’s time you realized that the past can’t be changed. No matter how many times you try to rewrite it for me.”
His look was confused, as he sputtered, “But-but”“
“And there isn’t a future, here. No matter how many times you try to convince me otherwise.”
His lips formed a hard line at her tone. “You don’t mean that; you’re feeling this too.”
“…Good night, Scott.” She pulled on her teacher’s mask, acknowledging him with no more familiarity than one of her underage students, and pushed her door open, sliding in and closing it soundly in his face.
The next morning was uncharacteristically quiet in the main house, as most of the guests slept in after a late night. Of course, Charles had been an early riser”he usually was anyway”and he & Ororo had had a lot to discuss over a quiet breakfast.
For most of the day afterwards, she found herself immersed in preliminary leg work for her new job at the Westchester school, going over end of term progress reports, deciding what kind of courses she’d like to see added to the current curriculum and other administrative nonsense. Despite the heavy workload, Ororo found herself completely excited and anticipating the new school year.
Sitting on her bed surrounded by file folders, books & ledgers, she’d been at it for several hours, only stopping for a small break when a bleary-eyed but excited Marie had interrupted to gossip about her late night with Bobby in the city.
Thinking about it now, as the afternoon grew older, she smiled; it was good to see Marie less hung up on Remy these days and actually enjoying life again…
BzzzBzzzBzzz
She jumped slightly, turning to the side of the bed where her cell phone danced across the wood surface of her nightstand. Reaching over to get it, she almost fell off of the bed, laying out a hand to brace herself against the floor before the rest of her body followed. Flipping open the clamshell, she raised it to her ear, still half hanging over the bed, giggling at the picture she made. “Hello?”
“…Hey, Ororo?” Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes going a little wider. “It’s Logan.”
Going still, she looked up into space, her hair falling into her eyes as she listened to the quiet uncertainty behind his words. Almost as if he’d been surprised she picked up. “Logan.”
“Hope you don’t mind me callin’…yer not in the middle o’ something are ya? I can call back.”
She almost didn’t catch that flurry of words, smiling in some surprise at his sense of trepidation. “No, not at all…I’m glad to hear from you, actually.”
His voice seemed a bit more confident, as he chuckled a little and continued, “Yeah? Well, I was wonderin’ if you had any plans tonight.”
Holding her breath, Ororo didn’t even realize she hadn’t moved from her precarious position, as she pressed the phone to her ear. “Plans? No, not really. What did you have in mind?”
“That rain check from last night. You game?” His voice teased her.
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about riding a motorcycle, Logan.”
“That’s alright,” he replied easily enough, “I’ll be there to catch ya if you fall.”
She thought she had to have imagined the underlying tone beneath those words. With a smile, she agreed, “Well, then. I guess I’ll have no choice but to put my life in your hands.”
There was a weird, but slight pause on his end of the phone, before Logan murmured, “Deal. Meet me at my place. You know when.”
After he’d hung up the phone, Logan sat in his living room, trying to figure out exactly what he was doing. It was more than simply playing with fire, he now chastised himself. ‘Be a man about it…’ he thought, still holding the cordless phone absently against its cradle. No matter how he turned it, Logan knew he was more than just curious about the woman.
Shaking his head to clear such thoughts, he reminded himself of their connection, of his chosen profession, of his…’problems’; all good reasons why he shouldn’t have just called her. ‘Jesus, it’s One night, not a proposal, ya ass.’
Finally releasing the phone, Logan got up, heading upstairs to the private bathroom where he took the next 45 minutes getting ready.
It had been slightly difficult for Ororo to slip out of the main house, but she’d managed it after distracting as many as four different people who’d caught her on her way to the back patio. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone else about Logan, simply for the fact that she didn’t really know what they were doing yet. Were they just acquaintances on the way to becoming friends, or was this a date?
That question ate at her mind all the walk down the beach toward his house. She’d chosen to walk rather than ask one of the chauffeurs for a ride, all in the name of being discreet. One watchful eye and two loose lips later, and the whole house would be talking.
Alone with her thoughts, she turned to the darkening skyline, watching the late afternoon colors blend into a blue backdrop. She always thought sunsets in the Southampton were a well-kept secret among the locals. Memories of watching them as a child hovered just beneath the surface of her thoughts. Those early days that she could barely recall once Charles had brought her back to the States; July out at the Xavier family summer home was a strong memory…one of a few pleasant ones from her early childhood she could recall.
Running a hand over her hair as long locks waved in the sea breeze, she focused on the quickly approaching image of Logan’s house. It was still a good 100 yards off, but she saw a figure suddenly emerge from the rear of the house, and begin to come down the steps. Unable to help herself, Ororo could feel her nervousness factor rise exponentially, realizing that she was under his visual scrutiny already.
When they finally came to each other, she discovered how right she was. Logan gave her an appreciative once-over, his almost colorless eyes sparkling with a devilish delight as he took her in. She wore a Victoria’s Secret Embellished wrap top in the same color as her stunning eyes and a white pair of stretchy topstitched London jeans. Her feet were secure in bright white tennies, and her only piece of jewelry was a single polished gold bracelet that accentuated her slender wrists.
He grinned, despite himself, loving the way her clothes fit like they were tailor made. Her long tresses were only slightly kept intact by a loose ponytail at the small of her back; several locks had easily escaped, he noticed, on her walk down and waved at him.
“Hi.” Her voice was rich but held a small hint of nervous energy.
His eyes lifted to hers, his gaze caressing her soft-looking chocolate skin. “Hey. You look…”
“Over-dressed? Would a tee and shorts have been better?”
“I was gonna say ‘Stunning’. But then, you’d prob’ly still look that way in a t-shirt & shorts.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that, and then when he felt his face redden at her shy smile, he really felt like punching himself.
“Thank you.” Ororo admired his rugged attractiveness wrapped in a sense of careful abandon in jet-black jeans, a carpenter’s button-down shirt and a light-weight leather jacket he wore mostly for riding. His hair was wild as always, but she found it handsome on him. He was barefoot, and she looked down to see his toes squeezing the white sand beneath them. “Don’t tell me you ride shoeless?”
He chuckled, looking down at his feet. “Nah, I left my boots on the porch. Come on…”
Ororo followed as Logan led the way back up to his place, and they paused briefly while he shoved his bare feet into a well-worn pair of Laredo Barracudas, before he took her around the side of the main house where the two-car garage was. There was only one car”a black Jeep Wrangler”and beside it the only inanimate thing that had really helped Logan escape his demons living in the house.
Walking ahead of Ororo a bit, he smiled wistfully as his fingers reached out to caress the custom-made Vulcan Classic. He turned when he heard her snicker a little, and he questioned, “What?”
Shrugging, Ororo pointed to the motorcycle. “You just look like you are saying ‘hello’ to an old friend. Men, and their toys…”
He grinned, but shook his head. “Actually I guess I was. I spent a long time building this thing from scratch, darlin’. Can’t a man take pride in his work?”
She rolled her eyes, stepping up beside him to examine the formidable beast. She’d never ridden a ‘hog’ before, and wondered if this night was the right time to change that. Seeing the cautious way she was eyeing his bike, Logan reached out and touched her hand, his fingers curling around the inside of her palm as he held on and pulled her closer. “Here, it ain’t gonna bite.”
Without a word she came, standing very close to his side, their hands still clasped. Logan showed her how to mount the seat, and she settled in the natural groove of the hard leather, unsure where to place her hands. Amused at her naivety, Logan took a moment to admire her beautiful form on his prized machine, before he moved to sit in front of her. As he began the steps to start the bike up, he turned to her, motioning to the helmet hanging on the back.
“At least until ya get used to it, better wear that.”
Failing to notice his initial comment, she grabbed the black shiny helmet, but raised questioning eyes to him. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry. I got a hard head.” Just as he said that, the bike purred to life, a loud, rumbling sound that Ororo could feel in her bones as she wrapped her ponytail around itself tightly and set the helmet on her head. She opened the dark visor to peer out at him, smiling as a sense of pure exhilaration coursed through her body.
When Logan popped the kickstand off, the shift in weight was awkward for her, and she instinctively gripped his jacket, just above his waistline. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I ain’t.” He moved one hand away from the handlebars to touch hers, pressing her hand against his ribs before he turned his attention back to the controls.
Ororo was both uncomfortable and elated at their close proximity; the situation warranted sitting close, but she hadn’t expected to be this close. Trying desperately not to notice his strong, muscled body against her, Ro focused on the slowly moving motorcycle as Logan maneuvered it toward the open garage doors.
When he got to the threshold, he leaned back a little to turn to her, and was momentarily distracted by her scent and the soft pillow of her breasts against his back, before he called out, “Hold on tight.”
It was his only warning as they leapt from the back of the house around the winding drive toward the front and the narrow road leading to the street above.
They probably rode Route 27 for a good two hours before Ororo indicated that she was tiring out. Logan took pity on her, inwardly impressed with her stamina, and headed back. She’d been a real trooper in his opinion, only drawing the line at handling the monster bike herself. When he teased her reluctance, she left the door open for him to change her mind, albeit later.
As the Vulcan rumbled back into its place in Logan’s garage, he was surprised to feel a sense of disappointment that their ride was over. Though they hadn’t talked much at all on the ride, he could sense her excitement in a new experience, and could tell she had enjoyed herself as she leaned into him a little, her body melding perfectly against his back, her arms tightly wound about his torso. Her delicate hand had rested for a time against his chest, as if she could feel the adrenaline pumping through his blood and quickening his heart.
Shutting the bike down, Logan sat there for a moment before turning to glance behind him. His expression was a question.
Pulling the helmet off, Ororo returned his gaze, her hair cascading down. Holding the helmet in her lap between them, she smiled at him, her own adrenaline rush just coming down. “That was…was…”
“Fantastic,” they breathed simultaneously, and chuckled. Logan had never really taken anyone out on the Vulcan before; not even Jean, who’d refused to even sit on it, much less ride it, and Amahra had been too young…
Ororo peered at him, her face showing curiosity at his suddenly wistful expression. Before she could question it, it was gone, and he moved, the leather of his jacket creaking as he slid off of the seat. Standing before her, he helped her off the bike, and started walking toward the door, their hands still clasped for a moment before he let go.
Following, Ororo tried to hide the goofy look she knew she was wearing, running a self-conscious hand through her tussled hair. She hadn’t expected their ride to be so much fun, or to have her attraction to this mysterious man so blatantly manifested as she watched his back, the way he moved, and his tight little ass that looked just right in those jeans…
“Ororo?”
She looked up, more than a little startled from her thoughts as her eyes met Logan’s. It occurred to her that he’d been trying to get her attention after she’d failed to answer his question. “Pardon?”
“Something to drink? Water, beer…well, that’s pretty much it.” He said thoughtfully, offering her a seat on the back patio while he leaned against the railing.
Laughing at his evident surprise of his lack of refreshments, she responded, “Beer is fine.”
He didn’t even hide his surprise, but didn’t say a word as he went inside. While she heard his movements echo out from the short foyer, Ororo looked out from the covered patio to the gently crashing surf, admiring the view. It seemed less restrained, more natural than that of her father’s; the manicured lawns of the Xavier estate were beautiful, to be sure, but in Ororo’s eyes lacked something of the spontaneity of Mother Nature’s hand.
“You’ve got quite a view.” She commented, accepting the cold bottle.
“Yeah.” Logan turned to stare out at the beach, his expression hard to decipher. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually looked at his property and could appreciate it for what it was. For a brief moment he envied her that.
“You know, this is usually the part where you tell me a little more about yourself.” She watched him half-lean-half-sit against the rail across from her. His gaze shifted”in discomfort?”before it landed on her again, and he took his time lighting a thick cigar.
“What do you wanna know, darlin.”
His cryptic tone sort of took her off guard, but Ororo forged ahead anyway. “Well, first I guess…where are you from? Your accent sounds unusual.”
“I was born in Alberta. Raised everywhere else.”
“Ah,” her eyes brightened, “My mother wasn't native to the U.S. either. Do you like it here?”
He looked at her as if he didn’t fully understand the question, then chuckled. Ororo’s expression changed just a little, and he replied, “Nothin’. Just feel like I’m on a job interview or somethin’.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked down at the bottle in her hands, as an odd silence passed between them. After a few moments, she looked up when she felt his presence next to her; Logan sat down close beside her on the cushioned bench, his head tilted a little as he watched her.
“Nah, it’s alright. I’m just not used to so many questions…about my past. It’s kinda fuzzy sometimes, truth be told.” He kept eye contact, his clear grey eyes telling her a lot with that statement.
“Does that have something to do with your mutation?” she asked tentatively.
“Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know…” She searched his eyes, realizing just then how close their faces were to each other. “…there’s something in the way you said that. I don’t know.”
His eyes lowered when she suddenly dropped her gaze, as if their searing eye contact had scorched her like the sun. Feeling a little guilty for making her uncomfortable, Logan leaned a little closer, his cigar switching hands before he reached up and touched the soft curve of her jaw, lifting her eyes to his again. “The answer’s ‘yes’…”
His breath barely whispered against her cheek as they sat there, completely tranquilized by each other. With his fingers still light against her face, Logan watched her eyes, then her mouth, as she struggled with words. He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt in places he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about right then.
It's so strangeHow my life's changed
I know nothing
About the people that I touched
Heard a story
It sounded easy
If you don't care
Then you're lying through your teeth
Her eyes gave him the answer to his unasked question, but still Logan hesitated. Later she would be unsure whether it had been a sudden burst of self-confidence or the strong Canadian beer clutched in her hands that propelled Ororo forward”emotionally and physically.
Intoxicated
Drank the juices
Of the possibilities
I'm so alive…
Lips touched gently but eagerly, sending a very mild current down Logan’s body; it only seemed to heighten his excitement, but he pulled away just barely to whisper a chuckle against her lips.
If you told meNothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free
I could show you
Why it's worth it
That's the way that it's meant to be
Ororo looked at him expectantly, biting her lower lip just a bit as the silence between them lengthened. Her body was stiff w/ nervousness until she felt his hand move from her cheek to the nape of her neck, squeezing tenderly as he drew her lips back to his.
It's too strangeHow your life's changed
You know nothing
About the people that you've touched
Someone told me
Life is easy
Hearts were bleeding and breaking
They were lying through their teeth
For the eternity of several seconds, he explored the contours of her soft mouth; it was a welcomed tease before Ororo parted her lips just barely and allowed him a full taste.
Nothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free
I will show you
Why it's worth it
And that's the way that it's meant to be
The winds kicked up around them, so strongly that they extinguished the orange light at the end of Logan’s cigar”not that he noticed. Carelessly he dropped the cigar as both hands came up to cradle her soft face. Leaning in closer to him, Ororo momentarily forgot she was holding the beer bottle until she felt Logan’s hand gently pull it from hers, placing it somewhere out of sight, out of mind.
If you told meNothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free
I could show you
Why it's worth it
That's the way that it's meant to be
Her hands gripped the edges of his worn leather jacket as their mouths continued an intricate dance to the tune of wet hot kisses. Her mind was reeling, her heart was pounding, and when she heard a soft, deep growl rumble from his throat a shutter coursed through her limbs to a sweet spot she knew she shouldn’t have been thinking about right then.
It sounded easy
Got a new skin and
I'm lying through my teeth
I was shook up
Intoxicated
I drank the juices of the possibilities…
As the magic faded for a breath, they simultaneously opened their eyes, seeing each other a little differently. All kinds of improper thoughts for a schoolteacher floated through Ororo’s mind as she watched him briefly lick his lips, staring at her. A mutual hunger was obvious to both of them; the only question was what they were going to do about it.
Of the possibilities…TBC
