Summary: A Former Assasin Struggles with Haunting Memories of the Past While Attempting to Pursue a New Life
Categories: General Characters: None
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Violence
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 6
Completed: No
Word count: 12494
Read: 11641
Published: 06-04-04
Updated: 01-26-06
1. The Minute of Decay by LaydeRogue
2. Take Time by LaydeRogue
3. Day Lilies and Dates by LaydeRogue
4. Mr. Intentional by LaydeRogue
5. Tourniquet by LaydeRogue
6. Plague Burial by LaydeRogue
The Minute of Decay by LaydeRogue
Title: Angel with the Scabbed Wings
Author: LaydeRogue
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the X-men. Until I can save up enough money to buy out the character Storm Marvel has that esteemed privilege. I use the characters for the sole purpose of entertainment.
Rating: I don’t think its anything too Bad. But just too be on the safe side. Possibly R
Summary: An Assassin Struggles with Haunting Memories of the Past. RoLo is definitely on the way!
Content warning: Violence
A/N: This is my first Fic. Reviews will be much appreciated! This fic will have the characters of the traditional X-men. However the group the X-men do not exist in this fic. Not really AU, all of the characters do still possess their mutant abilities but some of the powers may appear to be tamed or not as controlled *Italics indicate flashback sequence*
One to the head and two to the heart. The smell of fresh gun powder was still thick in the night air, until a small breeze wafted the scent away. Storm inhaled the remnant moments of the scene from above the rooftop adjacent to her latest hit, the newest victim laid on the cold damp alley asphalt in his own blood. She took apart the sniper and carefully placed it back into its leather casing. She carried her equipment in one of her black leather gloved hands toward the edge of the rooftop where she summoned a gentle wind to guide her to the ground.
As Storm descended from the evening sky she caught a brief glimpse of her reflection from a water puddle on the ground. She fleetingly thought her figure resembled a dark angel the way her long French braided hair whipped in the wind and the ankle length coat she wore billowed in the breeze. She immediately scoffed at such a thought. “Angel? Not even a possibility.” ‘ More like the Grimm reaper’ she thought to herself with a sigh.
She stood over the mans body in the alley staring at the fatal wounds she had inflicted on him. In her mind he had no face. They never have a face. Her icy eyed stare concentrates only on the hole in the middle of his head. The blood, thick, dribbles out of the skull to the likeness of a poetic ballet. Two crimson droplets intertwining with each other as they slowly make their way down the side of the corpses temple.
The previous unhurried motions of the two droplets transforms into a frenzy as the speed increases, in a semblance of two separated lovers racing to reunite. The two crimson drops combine into one tear dropped shape and falls unto the cold ground, ending their ballet in a simple splatter.
“Beautiful” was the word that slipped from Storm’s lips and turned into a whispered echo throughout the dark alley street. For some cryptic reason the sight of the ‘crimson ballet’ as she had come to refer the escape of her victims life’s blood was some what of a refreshing moment. Her momentary reverie was halted by the vibration of her cell phone. Unzipping her coat, reaching into her inside pocket, she had no doubts who was calling her at this particular moment. She brought the small phone to her ear to answer.
“It has been done” she stated in a matter of fact tone.
“Ah...Liebchen, that is vhat I always respected about you so quick and yet so precise.”
Storm frowned at the attempt of small talk from the thickly accented German. Her steady silent reply was an indication that his compliments were not going to erode her solid rock like demeanor.
She could almost hear him smiling on the other end. Was that even possible?
“…and even more the strong and silent type.” He said with a brief chuckle which soon turned into a more business like tone.“ Of course, your payment has been transferred to the requested accounts. You vill be contacted vithin the month for your next assignments.”
Storm let a heavy sigh escape her. Just as quickly once again the tone on the other end of the line changed to a warm and inviting embrace.
“Take care of yourself Mein Dunkler Sturm”
Storm’s face slightly softened when she heard the attempted affection in his voice.
“Until next month, Wagner.” She replied ending the conversation.
She took one last look at the blood splatter on the ground that was her ballet and prepared to leave the alley. The sound her boots made as she walked resonated through the late evening street. Her eyes glowed an electric white as a thick fog began to seep through the streets, blanketing the area where the corpse laid; as she continued to quickly proceed to the end of the alley to take to the sky.
~ ~ ~
Storm sat on the edge of the hotel bathtub wrapped in a white towel, as she watched the hot water slowly fill the tub. The initial high from the late evening ‘Job’ was gradually fading away. The feeling of emptiness and loneliness was once again returning to consume her. Her right hand waded through the rising water inside of the tub, and the steam grazed her face as she breathed in the vapors and quickly exhaled. She could feel her chest and throat slightly constrict, as if an indication that she was on the verge of weeping. But she never cried, not anymore. It seemed as if she had forgotten how to just let go and shed her own tears.
Storm knew that her emotions hindered her performance in completing her assigned tasks. So she chose to keep any weakness she had dormant or tried to extinguish them altogether . She cringed at the memory of when the release of her tears interfered with her initial vengeance. When the tears freely streamed from her eyes, blinding her vision from the primary target. She hit the water in the tub with disgust before she rose to go toward the sink to view herself in the mirror above it.
She wiped her hand across the mirror to clean off the build of fog the steam from the warm bath water had created. Storm stared at her image in the mirror she could no longer recognize her former self. Gone was the innocence and forgiveness that could once be seen in her blue eyed gaze. The hazelnut complexion of her skin no longer shined with the exuberance of life, it grew paler as the days, weeks, months, years passed on.
‘Years…by the goddess has it really been years?’ Storm thought to herself. One look at her obsidian colored hair had confirmed her inquiry.
Three years. Three years of dying her hair black. Her natural snow fallen colored locks had contrasted with what she had become. Taking the tips of the hair in her hands she continued to stare at her image, speculating what it was indeed that she had become. Quick sudden flashes of her past began to assault her memory. Different places and people ran through her mind, dilapidated buildings, bloodied bodies scattered in gutters, rivers flowing with blood, and the pungent smell of death.
And then there was his face. Charles…how she had missed him. His warm and gentle smile, the fatherly concern in his voice that always soothed her. His figure quickly transformed into an image she had thought to be repressed far enough in the recesses of her mind. But of course she could never think about Charles without thinking about the person responsible for his demise.
Storm’s jaw tightened, griping the bathroom sink in an almost deadly force with both of her hands as her eyes glazed over in an illuminated rage.
She could remember the brain matter that flew out and landed on her tear stained face as his head exploded. Ruby red quartz glasses flying with such a force toward the ground.
One bullet to the head and two to the heart.
It was her first time with any type of weapon and the realization that he was dead did not appear to her until she heard the repeated click of the empty gun chamber. The thirst of her vengeance was not quenched. Still pulling on the trigger, she wanted to kill him one thousand times over.
He deserved to suffer. For what he had taken away could never be replaced. It was the warm water overflowing from the bathtub unto her feet that had ripped her out of the tragic trance. Her eyes returned to their normal state, as she stood panting and surprised by her blood covered hand. Storm looked up from the sink to see that she had broken the mirror above while she had temporarily surrendered to her rage. The broken pieces on the wall only served to reflect multiple images of herself . Black hair in disarray, covering her sweat glossed face she stared at her hard reflection of what she truly had become.
Vengeful killer? That aspect only possessed a quarter of what she had turned out to be. It was the emptiness that constantly gnawed at her soul that was never satisfied. The hurt of the past never to be healed. That is what wholly devoured her being. Raising her bloodied hand to a piece of her shattered reflection on the wall, it was then that she realized what she was. With a look of defeat on her face Storm whispered to her broken reflection. “I am…alone”.
Storm’s defeated look quickly disappeared from her face. Running her uninjured hand through her raven locks, the color which had been bathed in sin, she had decided at that moment she did not want this life she had created for herself. Nothing she did would be able to bring Charles back, and that pain of loss would always be there. She grew frustrated with the scattered memories that kept haunting her. She knew it was time to create new memories, happy memories, one’s she would be able to remember without the fear of them taking over.
It felt to her at times as if vengeance was all that she knew. Was it possible to just start over again? She thought if she could really do that. Where would she begin? She didn’t even know what she would do. What she even liked, or disliked. It was hard to remember what she was like just three years ago. Did she even want to try to be the same person she was back then? There were just too many questions bombarding Storm’s mind.
Irritation started to set in. She ripped a large piece of the shattered mirrored glass off the wall with her injured hand. Grasping a hand-full of hair, she held the sharp glass close to her scalp. Sizable amounts of blood stained hair soon started to rapidly litter the flooded bathroom floor. Storm may not have had any answers to her questions, but there was one thing she did know what she disliked and it was that fucking ugly dyed hair.
~Mein Dunkler Sturm = My Dark Storm~
A/N: Some RoLo Action is well on the way in the Next Chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the X-men. Until I can save up enough money to buy out the
character Storm Marvel has that esteemed privilege. I use the characters for the sole purpose of entertainment.
A/N: A big thanks to everyone that reviewed the first chapter of this story!
The building had taken up the entire corner of Warner street. Yeah, it was huge, too big in fact for just her alone. She stood outside in the warm early morning sunrise just staring up at the site of the brick building.
She could have cared less about the size, she basked in the sheer enjoyment that the three story building
was all hers. Brought and paid for. It was a clean start, and a fresh beginning in an old city that seemed so new to her.
“Now that is one of the most beautiful sites if I do say so myself.”
She was slightly startled by the gruff voice she heard at her side as if it had appeared out of thin air.
“Pardon Me?” She asked confused at the man’s statement. She watched him as he continued staring with his head held to the sky, looking up at ‘her’ building as he stood by her side. In that instant his steel colored eyes met icy blue and she felt momentarily insecure. She ran one hand through her spiky short platinum locks as the other tugged down on the bottom of the purple shirt she wore. There was so much strength that could be seen in that one glance and neither of them turned from the challenge of breaking that eye contact. The man’s gaze and slightly tanned features softened even more when a smile crossed his face as he began his response.
“ The sunrise, over the building. It’s the best place ta catch it in this particular part of the neighborhood."
“So I have noticed. I’m sure the sunset is even more beautiful as well.” That was indeed one of the reasons why she had become so taken with the building. The sunsets from the roof top was simply breath taking. The way the dark evening shades of the sky melded with the luminescent colors of the day was like art. The colors of the sunrise and the sunset were like having the best of both worlds. Grasping pieces of both night and day even if it was just for a few mere minutes it was beauty, it was unapologetic, it… was… freedom.
“Yeah, there are quite a few beautiful things in this neighborhood. Seems as if ya can discover something new and beautiful just about everyday.” His statement was accompanied by those hard steel colored eyes that left traces of lust in his gaze which immediately informed her that he was no longer referring to the sunrise.
It was then when she finally broke eye contact with him to look back up at the building. His words were a bit too intense for her on such an early morning. Was this man actually flirting with her? She looked back at him trying to hold back the hint of blush she knew was threatening to creep across her mocha complected cheeks.
His hair was dark and untamed, his chest broad and muscular against the simple white t-shirt he wore. He was a bit on the short side, but she looked into his eyes once more and knew whatever physical strength he possessed wasn’t hindered due to his height. Again, her hand raked through her short hair. Perhaps it was a nervous habit she was starting to develop as of lately. ‘Yeah, since all of thirty seconds ago’ she thought to herself as she listened to the man speak again, trying to keep control over her calm composure as he offered his hand out to her in introduction.
“Name’s Logan, I own and teach at the Dojo down the block there.” She placed her hand into his and turned her head to follow the location he pointed toward.
“A pleasure to meet you Logan.” She shook his hand as if she never wanted to let go. His hand was rough, calloused over but yet gentle and inviting all at the same time. Strong and safe, that’s how he felt. She quickly berated herself for such a thought . 'For Goddess sake the early morning air must have been making her delusional! Strong and safe?' She knew this guy for all of one minute and already she was analyzing him.
Logan looked at her quizzically when she abruptly let go of his hand and began running her own through her snow colored pixie spiked hair. He was waiting for her to offer him her name but she seemed a bit preoccupied with raking her hands through her hair and staring up at the building in front of them. Logan looked the woman over, she stood at his side with such a statuesque and sleek form. The way the rays of the new dawn reflected off of her sapphire gaze was almost mystical as if he could decipher the concealed perfections that laid underneath the shell of imperfect insecurity that she displayed. He refused to walk away without a name.
“ I didn’t catch ya name there.” Logan said in a friendly tone with hopes of easing her attention back toward him.
“Oh, it’s Sto…my name is Ororo” It had been so long since she had heard her birth name spoken aloud. It had been too long since she was just simply Ororo.
“Ororo” Logan said as he was almost hypnotized by the sound of it. “That is a beautiful name ya have there.”
“Well thank you very much Logan” Ororo said with a huge smile that Logan matched
“So, are ya new ta the area? I haven’t seen ya around the neighborhood before.” Logan asked with baited breath hoping to learn more about Ororo.
“Yes, I am. Just moved in .”
“Really, where abouts?”
“Right here.” Ororo said as she gestured to the building. Logan looked at her with a raised brow.
“Here? This Building? Ya have ta be kidding?”
“Nope, not a joke at all, this here is my new home” Ororo said with a bit of playfulness in her voice after seeing Logan’s surprised expression.
“This building has been abandoned fer years. I can’t remember anyone living here since I’ve been in this neighborhood.”
“Well it will be occupied as of today” Ororo reached into the pocket of her denim pants to take out the key to the building.
“That’s a lot of building fer just one person. All and all, welcome ta the neighborhood. I’m sure ya’ll like it here and if’n ya need any help with anything just drop by the Dojo I always try my best ta lend a helping hand ta my neighbors.” There it was again the trace of lust in his gaze with that friendly demeanor. Ororo was willing herself not to be attracted to Logan. She just shook her head and smiled while her slender arms laid laced behind her back.
“Thank you for the welcome Logan, I am sure if all of the people in this neighborhood is as friendly as you are, I may like it here indeed. It was very nice meeting you.” She extended one of her hands for a brief hand shake once again. Logan grasped her hand as he stared into those hypotonic eyes of hers. The two bid each other farewell as Ororo walked up to the front entrance of the building and Logan walked down the street in the direction of his Dojo. Ororo watched him as he walked away, thinking to her self ‘that man could sure wear the hell out of some jeans.’ She didn’t bother to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks that time.
As she placed the key into the front door she took a final step back to look up into the sky. The sun had already risen high into the flawless blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day. It was a new dawn, a new day for great beginnings for Ororo, a new life to possibly forget the past and look forward towards expectations to build a satisfying future. Before she turned the key to open up the door she took a glance down the street to see that Logan had stopped at the corner before crossing over to his Dojo he turned around and waved at her.
Ororo looked at the palm of her hand remembering his feel. “Strong and safe.” She said silently to herself. She smiled and waved back to him as she made her way through the front door and took her first steps into her own home. She let go a sigh of excitement as she walked through the hallways. Yeah, it was a new dawn, a new day, a new life indeed. And dammit, she was feeling good.
A/N: Thanks for getting this far. How about reviewing? Feedback is always welcomed!Day Lilies and Dates by LaydeRogue
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the X-men. Until I can save up enough money to buy out the character Storm Marvel has that esteemed privilege. I use the characters for the sole purpose of entertainment.
A/N: To anyone who is still interested in this fic i hope you enjoy the read and i will try to update on the regular. I'm trying to get the creative juices flowing. So here's chapter three. Sorry that its not that lenghty
“Ororo, come on now you dunna ‘ave to do that. Put the plant down. I swear if I did’na ‘ave closing hours you’d live in this nursery.” Moira said teasingly while summoning Ororo to follow her back inside the shop.
Ororo looked to her with a lazy smile, grabbing a rag to wipe the soil from her hands before heading from the backyard plant nursery into the shop.
“So quick to rush me out today Moira? Careful I may take offense that you don’t enjoy my company. ” Ororo said jokingly while leaning against the walls of the shop with crossed arms.
“Ha! Right now the state of your feelings is the least of my concern. It’s not everyday I can twist the arm to convince the likes of Mr. Cassidy to take me out.” Moira said coming from behind the shop counter with her purse in tow under her arm.
“So unlike yourself my dear, I ‘ave a date this evening.”
“Watch it Moira, for your information I do go out on...dates.” Ororo said to the older woman with a satisfied smirk.
“ Going to the movies alone with an extra large bucket of popcorn at your side does’na count as a date Ororo.” Moira quickly moved out of the range of the soiled rag Ororo had thrown in her direction.
“Alrigh’, I get the point no need to get all defensive. I’m just trying to bring to your attention that the time you spend at the mov…urm…I mean on “dates” could possibly be spent on what you are going to do with that building of yours. I mean come on Ororo, its already been five months and…”
Ororo rolled her eyes and shook her head blocking out Moira’s usual ramblings as she walked behind the shop counter to take off her gardening apron. Moira was heading into her same schpeel about the inquiry and state of Ororo’s building. Ever since the first day that Ororo had strolled across the Help Wanted sign in the window and entered ‘The Scottish Day Lily’ flower and plant shop; Moira had always been curious of why a woman who could afford to purchase an entire building for herself would want to work in the dirt.
Truth be told Ororo loved working at Moira’s shop. Each time she ran her fingers through the soil in the nursery she felt as if she was burying a little piece of her past away forever. The pieces that she could never fully control were wrapped up with the nightmares, the sins and the deaths. The years of her past were like an open wound that would continually pus over to bleed and break through the scabs she had created in her life.
But when her fingers dug through the soil she felt the wounds heal as she buried her past deep into the earth. Working in the nursery was like Ororo’s tourniquet. She had created a self made bandage to stop the painful bleeding of her past. And with every plant and flower she potted in her soil of sorrow she watched the petals and leaves bloom into beauty. She could only wish the same for herself though she knew she deserved much less.
So dealing with Moira’s occasional inquisitiveness was something that Ororo did not mind bearing in order for her soul to gain a minuscule of daily satisfaction.
“…just not natural is all for a woman to live in a building by herself. I mean just look-” Ororo leaned over the counter top having already tuned back into Moira’s worrisome fussing to cut her off.
“Yes Moira, just look at the time.” Ororo said while motioning to the clock on the wall. “I thought you had a date and here you’re spending precious time fussing over lil’ ole dateless me.” She said feigning innocence.
Moira looked at her watch “Oh my, the play starts at eight and I know Sean will ‘ave a fit if we ‘re late for 'Mama Mia.'” She placed the straps of her purse on her shoulder and headed toward the door in a rush before abruptly stopping to turn back to Ororo.
“ Oh I almost forgot, Ororo, can you be a dear and deliver the Chinese evergreen after you lockup? The address in on it and everything I believe its close by in your neighborhood, it should’na take you out of your way too much. I would ‘ave had Roberto do it but he had to leave early” Moira said with a knowing smirk. “He had a date this evening also.”
At that statement Ororo grabbed her apron from the counter and threw it at Moira. “Okay, I’ll shut up. But that was a wee bit of a weak throw.” Moira said as she closed the door behind her humming the tune to Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’.
Ororo smiled laughing at her purposeful miss of Moira with the apron. She walked over to the plant that was already packaged to be delivered to scan for the address. Moira was right about one thing. The address was definitely in her area. Ororo picked up the plant and tucked it under her arm as she began to lock up the shop for the evening with a smile on her face before she made her way to a certain neighborhood dojo.
A/N: Thanks For Reading. Reviews are Always Welcomed. And of Course Gives Me The Motivation to Continue. But No Doubt I'm Goin' to Keep Keeping On Anways. My Apologies If I Screwed up Moira's Accent, But...Eh..::Shrugs Shoulders:: I tried.Mr. Intentional by LaydeRogue
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the X-men. Until I can save up enough money to buy out the character Storm Marvel has that esteemed privilege. I use the characters for the sole purpose of entertainment.
It was her scent that he first noticed before he had even saw her walking down the street. Logan had finished his last class of the evening and was locking the doors of the dojo when he spotted Ororo. She had a scent that Logan had become enamored by. It was a combination of almond oil and aloe and each time Logan was around Ororo he had to force himself to resist the urge to ravish her with kisses just to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.
Logan watched the late summer evening breeze billow around the length of the skirt she wore, the warm air moving up to caress the locks of her now shoulder length hair made her look like a goddess in motion.
“Good Evening, Logan” And the goddess spoke. Logan’s breath was hitched in his throat for a moment. But it was her smile that always did him in. The way it lit up her face and made her eyes dance with life. Oh, damn and those eyes. It was her sapphire gaze that always put him in almost a trance state. It made Logan want to gaze into them forever.
“Logan, is everything alright?” Ororo’s concerned voice snapped him out of his reverie. He was staring again. Logan knew this. But nonetheless couldn’t help it. He forced his brain to concentrate on speaking. ‘Say something. Anything.’
“Hey ‘Ro, Yeah. How ya doin’? His voice came out horse. Logan immediately cleared his throat at her questioning arched brow. Did he just call Ororo, ‘Ro? Where had that come from? He felt like kicking himself in the head.
Ororo looked at Logan while slowly repeating the name he had called her. Nodding her head in approval. “ ‘Ro…Ro, I like it.” And then she flashed the smile. That smile that bewitched Logan and yet made him feel completely at ease. Finally he could feel his brain start to function again. He smiled and let out the breath he had been holding.
“So, ‘Ro, What ya have there?” Logan said, pointing to the plant tucked under Ororo’s left arm. “Don’t tell me Moira is starting ta compensate ya in product.” He said with a brief chuckle.
“Not likely. Just doing a charitable delivery run. The plant is actually for your partner in crime.” Ororo said, shifting the plant in her arm. “Betsey’s Chinese evergreen finally came in. Is she still inside ?”
“No, all locked down fer the evening. Bets actually left awhile ago. Kept blabbing on about some date with Warren tha entire day.” Logan noticed that the smile on Ororo’s face had fallen.
“Right, Friday night.” Date night “How could I forget?” Ororo said with a heavy sigh.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I can take tha plant for now and give it ta Bets when she comes in tomorrow afternoon.” Logan reached out to take the evergreen from Ororo’s outstretched arms.
“Thank you Logan. I should be on my way now. I’m sure you have plans for the evening. Have a good night” Ororo said through a weak smile as she hesitantly made her way pass Logan.
Logan watched as a possibly rare opportunity started to walk away from him. He remembered a few months back when he had finally caught up with Ororo to ask her out. Perhaps talk over a cup of coffee or whatever the hell it was folks did on dates. He had only asked her out for coffee that one time and she had turned him down on the spot.
Standing there watching her slowly walk away, Logan silently reasoned with himself. “Maybe coffee just ain’t her thing, but everyone’s gotta eat.” He said hopefully as he broke out into a light jog down the block to catch up with Ororo.
“Hey, ‘Ro?” Logan could see the surprise on her face when she turned around to find him at her side. “I was just about ta grab a bite ta eat. I was wonderin’ if you’d like ta grab some grub with me?” And then, there was that heavenly smile again that appeared on Ororo’s face that made her look as if she could walk on air if she chose to, reaching the heavens itself. Logan had to try not to stare at her too hard in fear that he may swallow his own tongue.
“Yes Logan, I would like that very much. I could go for a good meal.”
“So tell me what do ya have in mind fer dinner?” Logan noticed a shy smile forming at the corner’s of her lips.
“Honestly, I’m in the mood for a really nice steak. However, since I’ve been in this neighborhood I’m starting to notice that there is a server shortage of exceptional steak houses.”
Logan out right laughed at her statement, sharing the same sentiments. “A woman after my own heart. You’ll have ta trek long and far fer a good steak dinner in this city. That’s why personally I stick with making it myself. Can’t go wrong with that.”
At that very moment the words started to tumble out of Logan’s mouth before his brain could process the possible consequences. “ It’s tha same reason why I always keep a few slabs of steaks on hand. How about I cook for you?” Both Ororo and Logan stopped dead in their tracks.
Logan saw the astonishment plastered on Ororo’s face as she looked him over. Possibly to see if he was really sincere about his question. Logan silently berated himself biting away at his tongue thinking that: This was tha woman who turned ya down fer a cup of coffee in a public place. No way was she going ta accept a private dinner offer at yer apartment. Keep dreaming, bub.
“Logan…” Ororo slowly responded. “are you serious?” Logan could feel the weight of disappointment gradually coating his stomach. But then there was that smile that once again adorned Ororo’s face.
“Logan, are you telling me that you can cook?” Ororo asked with a delighted sparkle in her eyes.
Logan’s knees nearly buckled in relief from Ororo’s question to his offer. He quickly regained his composure , running his hands through his usually disheveled hair. Which was standing on end for more than one reason at the moment. Logan looked back into Ororo’s enthused eyes with a slight grin on his face.
“Well, “Ro I ain’t one ta brag, but if ya wanna see fer yerself the offer’s on tha’ table.”
Logan watched as Ororo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “On one condition Logan...”
“Sure, ‘Ro, anything.”
“ I get to make dessert” Ororo stated with a reassuring smile.
Logan looked at her with a sly grin “Can’t have a good meal without dessert. Looks like you’ve got a deal, darlin’.”
He said leading the way to his apartment as Ororo anxiously followed beside him trying to shake the feelings that this dinner was possibly a date.
"Mmm..now that smells divine." Ororo remarked from the kitchen counter she
sat at, watching Logan work his culinary skills over the stove. Ororo noticed
how his movements were quick and graceful as he went about preparing dinner.
The steaks that Logan kept well stocked in his refrigerator had already been
soaking in marinade. In no time at all the stove top grill was fired up and
the thick juicy slabs were placed on the rack. Ororo kept her eyes on Logan,
studying his muscular form, as he placed each dripping slab of meat on the
fire.
She felt a brief, dull pain in her head that sounded like a static whisper.
The only words she was able to decipher from the static in her brain were
Fresh and Meat. Her eyes had glazed over to a predatory gaze, she leaned
over the counter, closer in the direction of Logan's turned back. Her tongue
licking over the fronts of her teeth, teasing the points of her incisors,
drawing faint drops of blood on her tongue. At the taste of the coppery
liquid in her mouth, the dull pain and static in her brain had quickly faded
away. Ororo had relaxed back into her seat at the counter with a slight
mixture of confusion. And was that a bit of fear rising up in her chest
that she felt?
As if sensing her uneasiness, Logan turned from the stove, head cocked to
the side he looked at Ororo and asked,
"Everythin' okay, 'Ro?"
She didn’t answer Logan's question. Instead Ororo looked straight at him her only
response, "Mmm.now that smells divine." in hopes of moving the subject away
from her current state. Ororo didn't overlook how Logan's gaze on her
slightly narrowed along with the sudden flare of his nostrils. Nodding his
head in approval Logan's eyes widening back to normal after seeing the smile
spread across Ororo's face.
"Thanks 'Ro. Hope its just as good going down." He said with a smile of his
own to match, strolling to the refrigerator to find some side items to
prepare with the steaks. Logan returned with a bowl of green beans that he
dropped into the heat pot on the stove. Then turned to a few potatoes that were
placed in the sink awaiting to be washed. "How do ya take your steak, 'Ro.?"
Ororo looked at Logan with a shy smile playing on her lips. "Rare."
She could have sworn she saw a sparkle in Logan's eye. "Only way ta take it
darlin'." He quickly flipped the steaks over to cook briefly on the other
side.
"Where did you learn how to cook?" Ororo asked after Logan had washed off
the potatoes and placed them in the oven. Logan had his back against the
kitchen sink facing Ororo. Her eyes surveyed his body. He was wiping his
hands with a dish rag. Chest broad, straining against the material of the
simple white t-shirt he had on. Arms, that were huge and no doubt powerful.
Maybe even dangerous she thought arching a brow. His forearms thick and
veined she could see the blood pumping through that beautiful body of his.
The dish rag distracted her full appraisal of Logan's form.
He had causally thrown it over to lay on his right shoulder. Ororo's top
teeth suddenly took in her bottom lip thinking to herself as she looked at
Logan 'Goddess there is not anything sexier than a man in the kitchen'.
Logan was speaking to her, time to pay attention. She quickly dismissed her
previous thoughts only for them to be replaced with other naughty thoughts
of what could possibly make this man even sexier out of the kitchen. 'By
the Goddess, pay attention!' Ororo stayed attentive looking Logan straight
in his eyes as he spoke, giving him her full attention. She looked into
those dark steely gray eyes of his. Nope that wasn't going to work either.
His gaze was too strong for her. She focused her eyes on his eyebrows. That
would have to do for now.
"I was in tha service awhile back. Picked up quite a few things from the
experience. After I was discharged I traveled around a bit, country hopping
so ta speak so I got my share of taste testing in when it came to tha
different cuisines. Lived in Japan fer a few years before settling down in
tha States. Always missed a good steak where ever I was. So, now here I am
with you sharing what I hope will be one of my best meals." Logan reached
for his opened beer sitting on the counter, saluting the bottle at Ororo
with a wink before taking a quick swig.
Ororo smiled and winked right back at Logan as she took a sip from her
bottled water. Her body slightly tensed when Logan mentioned living in
Japan She convinced herself that she would have had the same reaction if he
had said any other country or city. There was Australia, Bogotá, France,
Prague, Portugal, Hong Kong, Sweden, Moscow. Just a few out of a long globe
trekking list to name that reminded her of the places she had been and the
things she had done. But why Japan?
" I had my reasons." Logan said reaching over to turn the flame down on the
stovetop grill.
Ororo didn't realized she had voiced her last thought. But maybe this
was an opportunity to get an answer to her question. " Logan, I apologize if
you feel as if I am prying." Ororo said through an innocent yet sincerely
apologetic gaze.
"No, its okay 'Ro. I guess, I'm just not use ta answering that question.
Matter o' fact I think you're one of tha first ta ask." Logan said running
one hand through his wild dark hair flashing Ororo a lopsided grin. "After
I was discharged I kept good on a promise I made to a buddy of mine in the
service" Logan's eyes were downcast for a moment. "He was sent on a
reconnaissance mission gone wrong never made it back."
Ororo looked at Logan with a feeling of understanding. "I'm sorry to hear
that Logan."
He nodded in acceptance to her condolences. "Well, after I got word about
him I received a package a few days later from him postmarked before he was sent
on assignment. Inside the package was a sealed envelope, directions to a
small village outside of Nagasaki, instructions of who ta deliver it ta
and a note saying that my debt had been repaid. He kinda saved my skin once
from some heat back in tha day." Logan said with a reminiscent grin, raking
a hand through his hair.
"Who was the sealed envelope for?" Ororo asked with eager eyes.
"A great-grand-uncle of his. Took me a few months after I was discharged ta
finally make it there. When I arrived at the village and gave tha letter ta
tha fella, he musta been about eighty-eight years old or so. He invited me
to stay for dinner that night. And I kinda stayed for nine years. "
Ororo raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. "Nine years?"
Logan nodded his head in confirmation before taking another swig of his
beer.
"Why so long?" she asked.
Logan leaned back against the sink, both arms crossed resting against his
broad chest, staring Ororo straight into her sapphire eyes. "Because what I
found there was something I couldn't find anywhere else. Peace."
Ororo stared at him in awe or was that perhaps jealousy? "You found peace in
Japan?" She eyed Logan attempting not to seem too suspicious by his
proclamation.
Logan took another swig of his beer. "Uh-huh, peace."
"How?" Ororo asked suspicion now evident in her voice and narrowed gaze.
Logan shrugged his shoulders. " Don't rightly know, just learned ta accept
it I guess. I turned my mind off from all of tha other bullshit of the past.
Just found the strength to let the bullshit go. Tha old fella helped a lot also."
"Really, how so?"
"He was a real traditional fella, a warrior back in his day. Actually who
ever stops being a warrior? He was a warrior to the end. A samurai. And for
those nine years that I stayed in that village he taught me in the ways of
the samurai, the ways of a true warrior. Physically, mentally, and
spiritually. I learned ta live and follow my days in the samurai code of
conduct. Loyalty, courage, veracity, compassion and--"
"Honor. The laws of Bushido." Ororo said cutting him off in mid-sentence with her
whisper thin comment and far away gaze she quickly shook herself out of.
Logan arched his brow in slight disbelief nodding his head in silent
agreement.
"Did you ever find out what was in the envelope you delivered to the old
man?"
"No. He never told me. And I never asked. After he passed on I decided to
head to the States and make a life outta what had brought me the most
peace."
"Let me guess. The dojo." Ororo said with a knowing smile.
"You got it 'Ro. Tsukuri has become my little slice of heaven for the past
seven years."
"May I ask why you chose to name your dojo Tsukuri?."
Immediately Ororo noticed how Logan went into sensei mode. “Well, tha name
Tsukuri is a term used ta denote tha moment and position that exists when ya
have broken yer opponent's balance so that it's easy ta apply a throwing
technique, while at tha same time you have positioned
yourself--"
"In the proper position to strike." Ororo had interrupted Logan for the
second time in mid-sentence. And for the second time he looked at her
slightly disbelieving her knowledge. She looked at him with a gentle smile.
" I believe my question was why you named the dojo Tsukuri not the full
definition of the word." Ororo's gentle smile had begun to flash fully. "The
definition I already know. I am however curious about the name."
Logan's disbelief dropped from his face at the sight of her smile, settling
into a full on chuckle at her comment. "I see you do ya research 'Ro. Well,
I named the dojo after the old fella, his name was Tsukuri or at least that's
what he was called. The guy was a sensei to me fer nine years, I only
thought it would be fittin'."
"Interesting." Ororo said nodding her head and reaching to take another sip
of her water.
"Yeah. But i'm sure there are much more interesting things..." Logan said
moving from the sink to the counter toward Ororo.
She smiled at him, slyly. "More interesting things. Such as what
Logan?"
"Such as you." He was now directly across the kitchen counter from her
giving her a hard gaze.
"Me? Whatever could be interesting about me?" Ororo said slowly trying to
hide the slight tremble in her voice. Her face stayed solid but she knew
her nervousness was evident in her eyes that Logan refused to turn away
from. What did he think he knew about her? Did he in fact know who she was?
Who she had been? She saw how his nostrils flared at her when she spoke.
Trying to sniff out a lie was he? Absurd.
"Well fer starters you can tell me where did you learn how to cook." Logan
motioned to the empty box of brownie mix on the counter that Ororo had
picked up from the neighborhood market on the way to his apartment.
Ororo released a sigh of relief along with a small laugh. "Bake. I cannot
actually cook. I just bake. And that was learned from a long experience of
trial and error."
"Trial and error? So I'm guessing you perfected ya skills." He said as she
began to vigorously stir the bowl of brownie batter.
"Brownies are my specialty. I follow a simple baking method that I've
created. I call it the 5-5-500 plan."
"That's a lot of numbers for a simple baking method."
"No, not at all Logan. It's really quite simple. Five minutes to prepare."
Ororo said while motioning to the batter she was stirring with even more
vigor. "Five minutes to bake all at an oven temperature of five-hundred
degrees. Hence, the 5-5-500 plan." She said with a quick wink and proud
smile.
"Darlin' yer 5-5-500 plan sounds more like a 9-1-1 call for attempted
arson." Logan said with a full on laugh that lead Ororo to smile brightly
and shake her head in disagreement.
"I assure you Logan I have yet to burn a batch of brownies or anything for
that matter while using this method. Just take a look at my building, its
still standing. I am sure your apartment will survive a batch without
casualty." Ororo said with a slight mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Hope so 'Ro. I just renewed the lease on tha place." Logan teased.
"So have ya decided what yer gonna do with that building since setting it a
blaze is out of the question fer ya?"
Ororo looked at him giving a heavily exaggerated sigh. "Oh no, don't tell me
you're about to turn all Moira on me?"
Logan looked at her confused.
"Moira asks me that same question almost everyday. One would think that she
owned the building herself from the constant curiosity of what I will
eventually do with it."
Logan couldn't help but laugh. "So ya still haven't made any decisions yet?"
"No, Logan, I honestly don't know what I would like to do with the building.
But I am thinking anything and everything is a possibility. For right
now its home, and I’m happy with that." Ororo ended with a warm smile.
"Home sounds like a very good plan ta me 'Ro."
"Thank you, Logan."
He smiled at her, his eyes suddenly taking notice of the scribbled scrawls
on the folded brown paper bag the brownie batter had come in. It was tucked
almost discreetly underneath the box next to Ororo's left arm. Reaching
across the counter for it his hands grazed the soft skin of her forearms.
Ororo's eyes lowered soaking in the feel of the brief pleasurable contact
of his fingers. The moment did not last long, eyes snapping open, realizing
what Logan was reaching for and now currently had in his possession. Her
eyes widened in horror and embarrassment as he began unfolding the paper bag.
Ororo averted her eyes from him, finding renewed interest in stirring the
brownie batter. But she couldn't help risking a glace at Logan's reaction.
His lips formed an amused grin, eyes peeking over the top of the paper bag.
"Did you do this 'Ro?" Logan turned the paper to her that held a hastily
drawn sketch of him.
She bit the inside of her cheeks in an attempt to stop the sudden blush that
was beginning to creep on her face. Nodding her head in a silent reply.
"This is pretty damn good 'Ro."
"Well, I had an interesting subject to work with." She created the sketch while he was occupied with getting dinner started. Beginning with a side profile of him capturing his ruggedly handsome facial features his dark brows furrowed in concentration at his task. There were the black tufts of his hair on his head that led down to form the thick soft wisps of side burns on his face. At least she thought they were soft. What she would have given at the moment to find out. To touch under the shirt that clung to the well defined muscles of his back moving down to his sleek narrowed torso meeting those jeans. She had licked her lips thinking about those jeans and how he wore them like a God. Watching Logan work his way around the kitchen was like poetry in motion. His body so fluid and at ease. Ororo had felt compelled to capture that image of him with her all to impromptu pen and brown paper bag sketch work.
“Ya don’t say?” Logan now ogling her with sudden lust filled eyes
“It is nothing really Logan, just a little doodling I do.” Ororo said shyly, grabbing the sketch, folding it, and placing it back under the box.
“Nah, ‘Ro, that more than just some doodling. If you can make me look like that on paper…hell I’d call that art. How about next time we go for a full frontal sketch?” his tone was mix between playful and seriousness. Ororo could see that his eyes reflected more seriousness than playful from his comment. Her mouth dropped she didn’t know how to answer his question. Her brain felt numb yet her body tingled with desire. The pot boiling over on the stove caught her attention and saved her from any reply.
“It looks as if one of your own masterpieces is in trouble.” Ororo nodded to the green beans.
“Got it covered darlin’” Logan quickly turned the flame off. Turning back to look at Ororo who had finally finished stirring the batter and was now holding a semi-seductive gaze in competition with his fierce lustful one.
“The batter is ready to bake.” She said .
Logan was unrelenting to breaking her gaze. He slowly moved his hand toward the batter, his finger hovering over the bowl for a taste, a quick taste, the first taste.
THWACK!
Ororo had slapped his hand away quick and hard. Logan looked at her with shock as she raised her hands to her mouth surprised. “Oh my! Logan, I am so sorry. It was an instinctual reaction…I really didn’t mean--”
“It’s alright ‘Ro” Logan said rubbing the back of his hands quieting her apologies. “Really, its okay. Yer hands pack a lota power,” He licked his lips. “I like that.”
The blush was now uncontrollable. She knew the heat was quickly creeping to her cheeks on to her mocha colored skin. Logan had taken the baked potatoes out to pre-heat the oven to Ororo’s specifications. Five hundred degrees. After placing the baking sheet filled with soon to be delicious gooey brownies into the oven, Ororo turned from the stove to find Logan leaning against the kitchen counter leering at her. A soft smile spread across Ororo’s lips, noticing a chocolate smudge unbeknownst to Logan on his face. She walked over to him her own face inches from his, icy eyes filled with seduction her tongue peeked out from between her lips slowly licking the corner of Logan’s chocolate smudged mouth.
A pleasurable growl escaped from Logan’s chest. Ororo hesitantly pulled away from him.
“You just couldn’t resist having a taste could you?”
“Darlin’ with you I’m finding it difficult to resist not doing a lot of things.” A wolfish grin spread across Logan’s face. He quickly wrapped his arms around Ororo’s waist pulling her soft body against his hard chest. Within seconds she thought her body would burst into flames, his lips teased up along the nape of her neck, moving to caress her chin, his tongue finally finding entry into her mouth. The kiss was tender and heated both Ororo and Logan nipping at one another’s lips for a play of dominance.
Ororo was left breathless, heart racing, hands trembling with only one thing to say.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
Logan cocked his head, lost for words, pointed in the direction down the small hallway. An amused smile on Ororo’s lips that shone in her eyes she raised her hands to one side of Logan’s face. Her fingers running through his thick mutton chops. They were soft. She wasn’t surprised. Her fingers left good buried in them. Logan just felt good. No, he felt more than just good. For Ororo, Logan felt right. She slowly pulled away from him and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
Ororo closed the bathroom door, and leaned her back against it. She smiled from the thought of Logan’s touch. Her smile turned to a small laugh. The small laugh became a full on giggle. Ororo for one of the first times she could remember began giggling like a school girl. Her giggling abruptly stopped when she felt the same dull ache in her head from earlier in the evening. The pain was back assaulting her now in sharp spikes. Ororo placed her hands on her temples, rubbing her head in an attempt to alleviate the pain.
She moved toward the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink to search for aspirin. The sharp painful spikes were followed by static in her head. A low buzz becoming louder. She opened the cabinet to find only an antique shaving blade. Grazing a finger over the blade, despite the pain her in her head she smiled. It appeared that Logan was an old fashion guy at heart. Her smile dropped as another attack of sharp pains spread from her temples down to settle behind her eyes. She closed the medicine cabinet. Her hands dropped from her head. Her next breath became stuck in her throat. She gasped at the reflection in the cabinet mirror. Raven hair. Deadly icy stare. Vindictive smile.
“Storm…” Ororo said the name through clenched teeth. The pain in her head was gone. The static whispers were now heard acidly clear.
::Well, well, well goddess. What do we have here?::
“Go away” Ororo said with a distinct strength of certainty in her voice
::Away? Now that would be rather rude of me. I’ve just arrived. ::
“Go away now”
::Now, now goddess it has been a long time. I thought perhaps we could you know, catch up on old times. ::
“Not long enough. Leave.”
::Make me.:: The taught a consuming harsh echo in the room.
Ororo stared at the reflection helpless
::I thought so, Goddess. Now, straight to the point. The man, is he a potential lover or friend? Either way it won’t end well.:: A predatory gleam clouded over the reflective icy stare.
Ororo’s eyes narrowed in response “He means nothing.”
::Then he shall make for easy prey.:: The reflection licking over the fronts of her teeth.
“Leave him.”
::You never were a good liar, goddess. So, the man does mean something to you.::
“He is a good man.”
::Yes, they all are. Aren’t they? That is until they betray you. Isn’t that right, goddess? You never did handle betrayal well. No matter, I shall end it before it starts. I always do.::
“No. I won’t let you. It’s not the answer. Not anymore. The killing. Death is not the answer.”
::I am always your answer. Death is the mother of beauty. I thought you would know and appreciate that goddess.::
“I’ve taken my life back. Now, leave me.”
::Oh, how the goddess has grown”::
“Don’t call me that! Don’t ever call me that. My name is Ororo Munroe. This is a new life. My new life. Just leave.” Her body began to tremble from the slight outburst.
::A new life? You don’t say. Well, tell me who is it that you’re going to turn to when this new life of yours turns to shit? Me. That’s who. When the betrayal and back stabbing starts and your veins crave the blood of vengeance. It is only I who can give it to you. Face it, I am your tourniquet. When your wounds and pains are exposed I am the bandage you seek.::
“I will make it work.” She said with determination in her eyes.
Ororo jumped at the knock on the door. “ ‘Ro, you okay in there? I think ya brownies are done.”
“I’m fine, Logan. I’ll be out to check on them in a second.” She turned her attention from the closed door back to the mirror.
::The “good man” I presume. Neither friend nor lover. Perhaps I will have to think of something new. How do we want to destroy him? The number we did on Yukio won’t do. And the and beautiful destruction done on Forge just doesn’t seem fitting. How would we go about killing a “good man”? Any ideas…goddess?::
The taunting and sinister laughter almost made Ororo’s emotions come undone. She could hear the rumbling of thunder in the distance. Her teeth clenched and eyes narrowed suppressing her rage. Ororo stared at the raven haired demon in the mirror and stated point blank:
“You can’t have him.”
::As if you can stop me. You were always too weak. I am your strength. You come on like a crippled play thing. Your spine is just a string. I am the power that runs through your veins. You like it too much to completely give it up.::
Ororo could hear her heart pounding in her ears and the blood in her body running cold. Her body convulsed with heavy panting and beads of sweat started to run down her face. Storm was slowly wining the battle over Ororo Munroe.
“NOOOO! Never again.” Ororo quickly opened the medicine cabinet and slammed it closed so hard that the mirror cracked.
“ ‘Ro? Are you okay in there? ‘Ro?” She could hear Logan banging on the door. “ ‘Ro, what happened? Open the door.” She heard the rattling of the doorknob from the locked door. Ororo knew she couldn’t allow Logan to enter the bathroom, not near her, not yet, not now.
“You will not control me again. Not ever!” Ororo opened up the shaving blade she took from the cabinet and pressed the sharp blade to the left arm of her soft flesh. “Whatever parts of you runs through my veins I will make certain that as much of it as possible is gone. Starting right now!”
She dragged the blade over her wrist. The blood fell from her veins into the sink and down the drain. The image of Storm faded from the mirror. Ororo squeezed as much blood from her left arm that was physically possible before her legs buckled and she fell to her knees on the bathroom floor. The sharp spiked pains and static whispers monetarily assaulted Ororo’s mind before retreating to a simple dull ache. Leaving behind the last words of Storm’s acid voice in Ororo’s brain: ::I am your tourniquet.::
Ororo gathered as much strength as possible to get back on her feet. She heard Logan attempting to kick in the door. Quickly she turned on the sink faucet and let the running water wash away whatever blood was left clinging to the porcelain.
“ ‘Ro, please, if you can hear me darlin’ open up the door.” Logan stopped the banging to see if he could hear anymore movement in the bathroom.
Ororo looked to the closed door. Her chest burned with pain and a bit of sorrow for his concern. She didn’t deserve it. Ororo took the blade to the bottom of her skirt and tore off enough to make a bandage for her arm. The banging on the door began again. It was only a matter of time before Logan broke down the door and made his way into the bathroom. It was simple. Logan didn’t deserve a monster. She was more than a monster. She was a demon. As much as she wanted to change it just never, somehow never completely worked out. The old wounds always holding her back. Haunting her. She was the angle with the scabbed wings.
The splintered wood from the bathroom door went flying everywhere. And as quick as the wind Ororo passed by Logan going almost unnoticed out the front door of his apartment. Logan followed the breeze from the recently empty bathroom, outside to his opened apartment door. He ran through the front door of the building, looking up and down the vacant evening streets. There was no sign of Ororo on the streets. However, in the night sky, Ororo made her way home on the evening winds with a hurt heart and a bandage arm. It was for the best she thought. Logan didn’t deserve to be destroyed by her demons.
Logan stood outside of his apartment building reluctant to go back inside, hoping that Ororo would come back. He slowly made his way to the front door before stopping and sniffing the air. There was smoking coming from his apartment. Logan agitated, with a deep sigh racked his hand through his wild hair.
He realized the brownies were still in the oven. The damn brownies had burned.
“Fuck.”
A/N: Reviews are always welcomed with open arms and big wet sloppy kissesPlague Burial by LaydeRogue
The loft had a bare boned décor with stripped hardwood floors and bricked walls. The only piece of furniture in the entire space was a massive variety of multicolored throw pillows and sheets splayed about on the floor. The terrace doors across the other side of the room was slightly opened, the breeze blowing the sheets aside to reveal a sleeping Ororo.
“Ro?” Logan took a step toward the makeshift futon.
He watch her as she laid there asleep, looking almost peaceful. It was with a closer look that he saw her labored breaths, the soft white wisps of her hair sticking to her sweat stained skin. She began to twist and turn in her sleep, speaking in an unfamiliar language to Logan’s ears. He knelt down sitting on the pillows next to her. It was obvious, she was having a nightmare the pain reflected on her sleep struggled face was all too familiar to Logan.
“Ro, wake up darlin’” His voice was deep and graveled with the weight of concern.
Logan’s hand found its way to her bandaged wrist. His thumb slowly and lightly rubbed small circles around the pulse points. Her labored breathing stopped in an instant. Ororo’s eyes opened in a snap, with the rapid lithe grace of a tigress and strength of a lion on the Serengeti she had Logan on his back with a serrated blade to his jugular before he could even think about taking his next breath.
“Jezus, Fuck. Ro’?” Logan was too confused to even breath. He stared up at Ororo, her legs straddling him, her blue eyed gaze looking down at him behind the white veil of her hair. God, she was so sexy, just like this right on top of him. He felt a slight tightness starting to form in his pants. That all disappeared as he began to concentrate on the sharp pinch of the blade held at his throat.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was calm and airy as if she was never asleep at all.
“You’ve been MIA fer a few days darlin’. Moira was a bit worried about ya.”
Her gaze was still dead locked on Logan’s eyes, “I don’t see Moira here.”
“I was worried about you also Ro’. After the other night, well, I didn’t know exactly what ta think.”
Ororo stayed in her position on top of him unmoved. Logan looked at her with dark eyes, his Adams apple scraping against the jagged edge blade.
“Uh, Ro’, do ya mind?” He looked at the blade and back up into her eyes.
Ororo moved her hair back and out of her face. The blade quickly disappeared beneath the mass of pillows and sheets, where Logan speculated she had originally got it from. With no apologies she removed her self from atop of his body and walked over to a little side room, Logan could only guess was the bathroom.
He heard the sound of running water, rubbing his throat he stood up and leaned against the small doorway waiting for Ororo to come out.
“Is there a reason you sleep with a big ass knife, darlin’?”
Ororo stepped out of the bathroom. For the first time he was able to really get a good look at her since he arrived. She had on a simple white t-shirt showing her flawlessly toned arms, the material hugged against her ample breast and flat stomach. His eyes roamed down to the white satin high cut panties she wore showing off her smooth long legs. Logan’s eyes looked back up and straight into the barrel of a 9mm.
“Because I forgot my gun in the bathroom, again.” Ororo gave Logan a deadpan stare as she released the clip, the sound it made when it hit the floor echoed through the loft. She popped the bullet from the chamber, catching it in her hand, tossing both bullet and gun onto her bed for safe keeping.
“Go Home, Logan. I’m busy.” Ororo turned away from him and walked to the other side of the loft.
He watched her in silent disbelief as she brushed him off. She stood in front of a brick wall running her fingers through the outlined patterns, speaking softly in the once again unfamiliar language Logan had woke her up from chanting in her sleep moments ago. He studied how her fingers moved along the wall, she was tracing some type of foreign writing that was chiseled in the brick. Arabic. The writings on the wall were in Arabic. The words coming out of Ororo’s mouth were Arabic as well.
Logan carefully walked toward Ororo. Her back facing him, he took a chance his body pressed against her back. He felt her warmth and hesitation to lean into his chest. His hand raised to her fingers that had already stopped its tracing of the wall. He held her hands in his bring them both to her side.
He turned her to face him. Logan moved the hair that had fallen in front of her face and placed it behind her ear. “ What does it mean, Ro’?”
Ororo’s gaze met his. Logan noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Despite just having woken up, she looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in days.
“I thought I told you to leave.” Her voice had turned weak and scratchy.
Logan ran a finger gently across her lips. “ You disappear on me fer three days. I’m not going anywhere darlin’. Tell me what you were sayin’, please.”
His eyes was so sincere, so warm, so loving. She turned her face away from his. Logan’s stare burned her up inside. His eyes, his voice, his touch made her feel something she hadn’t felt in so long a time. Loved. Vulnerable. Ashamed. Human.
“ I have done many things in my life that I am not too proud of.” Her eyes turned back to the writing on the brick wall. Her voice became shaky as she continued. I have hurt many people along the way and… enjoyed it. You should leave Logan. I’m not safe.” Her knees were feeling weak again.
“Ro’”" Logan tried to steady Ororo as she swayed a bit almost falling to the floor. She pulled away from him and stood steady with her face avoiding his eyes.
“Listen Ororo, we all do shit in our lives that we ain’t too proud of. I’ve probably killed more men in my life to fill a third world country as a burial ground”"
Ororo’s enraged eyes snapped to his, “That’s different Logan and you know it. You were a solider.”
“Not always darlin’. Not always.” He stared at her with dark eyes of understanding. “We can never completely bury the past. The past becomes our plague. All we can do is find the strength to forgive ourselves to become better people, darlin’.”
“ I don’t think that I can. I’m too tired, Logan. The strength is not there. What if I hurt someone again? Goddess, what if I hurt you? I’m not safe to be around. I never will be.”
Logan tucked another stray strand of hair behind her ear. “ You can’t do anythin’ to me that I won’t let ya do, darlin’. Life was never meant to be safe. In fact, I think I’m starting to fall in love with life simply because it isn’t safe.
Ororo looked at him in disbelief with unshed tears caught in her lashes. “You’re falling’ in love with life?”
“No matter how weak ya think you may be, I still see life in your eyes, Ro’. I’m fallin’ in love with “ "
Ororo put her fingers to Logan’s lips, silencing him before he could finish. She was trying her best to hold back the tears, she shook her head disagreeing with him.
Logan’s face leaned into her touch. Her fingers glided across his lips, moving to rest on the side of his face. He breathed in her scent. Still beautiful, the mixture of almond oil, aloe and blood…?
He gave her a brief look of confusion. Logan gently moved Ororo’s hand from his face. Her bandaged wrist was splotched with blood.
“Ro’, your bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” she tried to pull her hand away from him but his grip was firm.
“Let me see, darlin’,” he unraveled the bandage that revealed a clean symmetrical gash on her wrist. Logan looked at her for an answer.
“A necessary accident,” her eyes were downcast.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She shook her head.
“You can start from the beginning, the middle, or even the end, darlin’. The important thing is that you do start.” Logan tore a piece of material from the end of his flannel shirt.
Ororo looked at him as he began to tenderly wrap it around her wrist. She finally made her start. She spoke the words from the wall Logan had asked about.
“A tarnished halo, tattered wings, and a desire that all will turn out well. Those are the ruins of the palace I once was.”
Logan looked into her blue eyes, gently rubbing and wrapping the bandage on her wrist.
Ororo placed her hand over his. “But ruins have their beauty. So, like moths to a fire's light we broken angels meet in our nightly flights to sing unholy hymns.”
She stopped in an attempt to hold back the tears that were beginning to blur her sight. It was no use. Logan saw how the tears escaped from her eyes like summer rain drops. He brought his thumb to her face and lovingly wiped one away.
Ororo had found the strength to finish. “And on our knees perform perverted communions. Finding false heavens in x-rated reunions, and creating a true hell within ourselves.”
Logan noticed how the last lines left her mouth in a choked whisper. But she had started and finished. That’s all that mattered.
“The weak can never find the strenghth to release their own tears. You’re stronger than you know, Ororo.”
Ororo closed her eyes and gave into the comforting sound of Logan’s deep voice.
He ran gentle fingers over her closed damp eye lids, “Let me help you heal.”
Ororo gave a deep sigh before she rested her forehead against Logan’s. “I’d like that.”
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