Ororo sat calmly in the sun, each ray heating her skin. She was skipping class-well kind of-it was just that day, a day she always missed all her lessons., given Charles’ permission. Twelve long years and she was still grieving. Her body started to convulse as tears fell, disintegrating into the grass. She didn’t bother brush them away, or stop them from flowing. It was the one day she’d allow it. She always felt weak when she cried but missing your parents is something of a weakness in itself.
The rain came. Time came to a heavy halt, as she raised herself from her perch, and simply lost control.
She flew into the heavens, and danced in the wind. A sense of balance stuck with her, as she reminisced the good times. Though, the good times were always over run by the bad, like pen on paper, the lines formed, one by one, creating faces, creating art, creating forms. The ink runs solemnly.
“If ya carry on like that, yer going to hurt someone, darlin’.” A voice called, separating the thunder from the lightening. Her blue eyes meeting wolf like grey.
“What do you care?” She answered, her voice untamed, and wild. Tears lashing out, mixing in with the rain.
“I don’t, not much anyhow. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I already am hurt, or is it impossible to see. Is the mask so well placed that emotion can’t be noticed?” She quirked up her eyebrow, challenging him. “I thought you could smell wrong doings, or is that just the theory?” She lowered herself, just so that her feet did not touch the ground, but that her eyes were relevantly level with his.
“One hell of an attitude ya got there, shame you don’t bite!” The gap between them was quickly closed as she hastily inched closer. Lightening speed. Her tears burnt her flesh, as her anger presented itself, the wind becoming violent and the lightening ferociously hitting the ground.
“Who says I don’t!?” Her teeth were set firmly together, as were his. His claws unsheathed, his prey willing and ready. She raised herself into the sky once again.
Lightening strikes. First sign of battle. Beast against the Goddess. Rage, Fear and…Lust.
“Your playing with fire darlin’!”
“I tame the storm, Wolverine, I’m sure I can handle fire” Lightening strikes again, knocking him off balance. Stumbling on to his feet, he jumped, raising his claws as he soared through the air, the wind beating against his features. He growled.
“Pathetic!” She raised a hand, and with one sweep, Logan was thrown back, he was no match. Falling backwards, he was thrust into a tree, several cracks were made audible, the bones would not be broken. He fell on all fours, shaking his head, clearing all thoughts. Focus.
He snarled. “Fuck!” Her chuckle was made apparent on the wind, as she pivoted above him. Distraction. He made his was up a thick fir tree. He waited. She was toying with him, had to be.
She danced in front of him, her hands raised above her head, the rain came lashing down, soaking her from head to toe. ((What the…)) His thought was trailed off-all thought was trailed off. Nothing, that’s what she had on, absolutely nothing.
“It seems that the Wolverine does not like fire. Too bad.” She laughed again, as she tangoed with herself.
“Takes two to tango darlin’, always two.” He muttered to himself, risking yet another tree bashing, taking in her form as he went. Memorising it for yet another rainy day. Her face defiant, and strong, her long neck that stretched out until it reached her collarbone. Her perfect rounded breasts, his eyes travelled downwards to her well toned stomach, white hairs between her legs, those endless legs. No wonder she was a goddess he may have been eighteen, but he‘d worship her any day.
Ororo licked her lips, seductively, as he came to her, he had no idea of what he did to her. Her heart pounding in her chest, the patch between her legs was now wet. She could of smelt her own arousal if she wanted to. She looked at his hands, as if he could read minds, his claws withdrew. Even though she itched to know what it felt like to have them touch her skin, she was still aware of the danger. She was not scared, She just did not want another murder on his hands. Exiled.
His strong arms surrounded her. His weight almost twice her own, it was superior. She went down. The wind knocked out of her. He turned them around-impossible-cushioning her as they hit the ground. She straddled him.
Impulse. Her lips met his, feverishly. Their lips moved in unison, their tongues danced. His hands moving to her hips, it was too much, too right. She pulled back, and stood , covering her self shyly, running a hand in her hair.
“I…I’m sorry.” She muttered, taking a few steps back, she turned her back to him, she sprinted, she flew.
He sat up, so tempted to follow her, but he didn’t. so many thoughts played in the back of his mind, one came out stronger than others…
…Forbidden fruit.
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