"Forge we should come to some sort of an arrangement about this," Ororo said. Forge continued punching at the air, releasing his frustrations with every perfectly performed blow. Ororo was not willing to drop this until it was settled.
"Forge," she said again, the irritation was bleeding in her voice. Forge, wisely decided to subside with his training. He didn't want to have this talk with her. If he did he knew he'd regret every decision he made for himself, and he'd never do what needed to be done or say what needs to be said. Ororo shook her head in pure annoyance and decided to sit down on the freshly cutgrass. "Forge!"
He looked down at her and shamed her company. He didn't want to be bothered, let alone lectured. He knew Ororo was bitter with him, but he wasn't up to hearing her express her emotions with him.
"Lets talk," he said sitting beside her, brushing his hand against his long sleek hair.
Facing her, seeing her, flushed and broken-hearted. He felt remorseful for her, but still, he couldn't touch her, like an invisible force was holding his arms still.
"I hate you" she began. "Your cowardly…"
"Ororo please. I am not up for the soap opera right now" he interrupted unsympathetically.
"You speak as if I have no right" she said, anger flooding all of her senses.
Forge looked to the ground, unable to stare the beautiful goddess in her glassy blue eyes.
"You walked out on me, leaving me for Mystique" she roared. Forge ripped at the grass beneath him, every word poisoning his stomach, putting it in knots. She wanted to lash out at him. After two years, he returns and still no words for an explanation.
"You make it hard for a man to move on Ororo. You took so long to give me an answer and…"
She slapped him, pausing his sentence. "How dare you. You did not even give me the opportunity to answer you. You were trying leave me without even speaking, like a thief in the night, until I caught you"
Forge starred at the raging woman before him. She stood to her feet, looking like a descendant from the gods.
"You have not changed. You still are the same coward you were two years ago, and I have no words for the likes of you" she stalked away from him towards the mansion. The skies responded to their commander, thundering with her rage. Forge stood to his feet; he walked towards the lake, and fell into it, shamefully.
The Mansion: Wreck room
"How do ya feel about Forge commin' back?" Her southern accent carried softly in the question. She stared innocently at the wild man.
"Ain't got no opinion on it. It is what it is darlin" He took a swift inhale on his cigar.
"Seriously Logan. Ah know ya better than that sugah" Rogue walked to the couch he was sitting at, taking a seat next to him. She may not have had the keen sense like the Wolverine, but she knew when he was pissed and this was one of those moments.
"Ms. Munroe aint to happy about it. Ah saw ya face too Logan" she continued. She placed her gloved hand on her emotionless friend. Logan was more like her father, than her friend. He looked down at Rogue, and smirked. The kid didn't quit until she got the information she wanted out of you. In reality, Logan wasn't happy about Forge's presence at the mansion, infact, Logan was highly perturbed about it.
"Yeah, kid"
Rogue looked up at him that was all she needed. Logan never confessed his feelings towards the weather goddess. With his never-ending pursuit of Jean, you would think that Jean was his only obsession, but Rogue knew the truth. Rogue knew Jean was a game of tag, and gratification. Ororo was someone of true interest, she still had the emotions in her mind, as if they were both she and Logan's and not just his.
A swoosh of the door interrupted Rogue from her trance, and a hasty goddess emerged. She didn't acknowledge anyone, just went straight to her loft.
Logan stared at her through his peripheral, admiring her, even at her unusual state. Ororo was a woman of immense control, but today, she seemed like a loose canon.
"You should go talk to her" Rogue said carefully. She knew Ororo was not one to accept pity, and Logan wasn't one to give it either.
Logan looked down at her, and took a swig of his beer.
"No, not yet" was all he said. Rogue raised a brown eyebrow in curiosity; she didn't know what Logan had going on in that screwed up brain of his.
"Ok" Rogue put a gloved hand to his cheek and kissed it, she skipped off along with the other teenaged mutants.
Logan stared at her as she disappeared out into the deeps of the mansion halls. He shook his head, and continued smoking his cigar. Ororo was all over his mind. He couldn't escape her, and he didn't want too. He knew she just finished talking to Forge; only he can piss her off like that. As much as Ororo hated him, she still loved him; a lack of closure can have that affect on a woman. Logan wanted to assist in her recovery, lay her down, explore her valley's, and make her his. Take his time with her; allow her to feel everything she desired, and so much deserved. He finished his beer at the thought, and walked to the kitchen to replace it.
Ororo's Room
Ororo lay on her bed, pulling her silk blankets in her hands. She looked to her vanity and saw the crystal baby bird Forge had purchased for her. She stormed to it and grabbed it, staring at its beauty and extreme detail. Unfortunately, it being a gift from Forge only taints what should be beautiful. She threw it, shattering it all over her wooden floors. She walked to her bed once more, walking atop the broken glass with her bare feet, not caring about the sharp pains at the soft of her souls.
She wanted to strike him, just make him feel the pain she was feeling. However, she knew it would not do anything for her, except put her in even more turmoil for his injuries. A knock disrupted Ororo from her sanctuary and tavern. She thought ignoring it, would make it disappear, but after the fifth knock, she realized it wasn't going anywhere.
"Come in" she said plainly
Forge revealed himself from the door. He cautiously walked towards Ororo. He pulled the antique English chair from her vanity, and took a seat. He rubbed his hands together, feeling the sweat in his palms.
"I have to say this to you Ororo"
The Hallway
Logan wanted to do a session in the danger room, needing to release some tension. He could hear Forge giving his half ass explanation to Ororo. Trying to will her conscience with his guilt and self-destructive words. What angered him was Ororo was buying it. How could she, she should be smarter than that. He's only feeding her lines, lines as thin as paper, and just as empty, words meaning nothing to him, and everything to her.
He walked down the stairs unable to endure anymore of it. Ororo was setting herself up for another heartbreak. Logan decided against the danger room, and thought the woods would be more sufficient. He walked outside, by passing the entire yard of playing student, full of curiosity, and raging hormones. He headed into the woods, smelling nature, and the residue of old rain and lightening. Only Ororo. He removed his shirt and shoes when he was deep enough to not be detected. He slowly pushed his left leg up to be parallel with his right and slightly bent the right. He bent his arm and tucked his thumbs in. He envisioned Forge before him, appearing strong, and quick. Only a mirage to what he really was, weak and slow. He began punching at him, his power unidentified, and his speed, unmatched. His kicks, becoming apart of this dance he was creating. This Forge he had envisioned, had only dodged the first two blows, catching all that was after them. Logan could see Ororo's pain, her hurt, and her tears. Images of her making love to Forge plagued his mind like death. His anger flooding his right mind. The animal begging to be released from the cages of his mind and self-control. Forge caressing what should be his, stroking the depths of what should be Logan's. SINKT. Blood, he wanted his blood, to taste it. Logan lost himself in the fight; no longer was he the man, now only the animal.
Logan sank his claws into the chest of Forge. Blood spilled from his mouth, dripping onto Logan's hands. He pulled his claws from Forges chest, reverencing as the life slew from his body. Forge dropped to his knees, and then falling to the ground, taking his last breath of life. Just as quickly as the fight ended, so did the imagery of the lifeless man lying on the ground, as did the blood on his arms and hands. Logan took a deep breath as he brought himself back to reality. He grabbed his shirt, and shoes, and began walking back to the mansion. Sweat dripped from his body like crystal beads.
Logan walked back into the mansion, heading straight to his room, making a slight detour to the attic. As he walked to the stairs to Ororo's room, he heard a male scream. Ororo emerged from her bedroom, running down the stares, bumping into Logan. He knew something was wrong with her, tears streaming down her face. She quickly wiped them off and stared at Logan. His gray gaze keeping her blue orbs magnetized.
"You okay?" he asked masking the gruffness is his voice.
Ororo was silent, continuing her intense stare. She finally embraced him, desperately needing to feel loved by anyone. He wrapped his arms around her, scooping her up by her plump ass, and walking to his room, gently placing her on his bed. She reluctantly let him free, and quickly grabbed one of his pillows and embraced it against her breast. He covered her with his flannel blanket, and gently patted her on her back. Her sniffles and tears were beginning to cloud his judgment. What the hell was he doing patting her on her back in his bed? He sat with her until she fell asleep, not a word to be exchanged between them. The silence they shared said more than if then any conversation they've shared. Logan stayed with her, deciding it would be more damaging if he were to leave her now.
He lay beside her, inhaling her hair, sweet vanilla. He placed his arm around her waist, and to his surprise, she grasped it, and held him close to her.
Professor Xavier's Office:
Jean sat patiently across the professor's desk. He was avoiding her question, trying to keep the peace in the mansion.
"Charles" Jean said impatiently.
"I am not having this discussion with you Jean. The tension in the air is thick enough, no need adding more," he said, looking out his window, admiring the view.
"You act as if you can't see how Scott and I are falling apart. I need your help" she screamed, desperate to get through to him.
"The struggles you two share are struggles you put only on yourself child. I can not meddle in your personal affairs"
Jean looked up at the Professor, feeling defeated.
"So you will let us die," she said.
"Of course not Jean, but you must understand that I can not give you any advice, not on this. You two are smart adults, just as you have worked thing's out before, you can work them out now"
The Professor turned to face her, defeat and despair read all over her. Jean didn't want to lose her husband, but thing's between them were getting to rough; especially now that Emma is back in the mansion. She was so desperate to keep his attention that she was doing things that were out of character. Possibly pushing him away faster than her keeping him. Charles put his hand tenderly over hers, and she grabbed it, putting it to her cheek. She must be going insane. Her world was erupting in chaos, and all she could do is watch.
There was a knock at the door and Scott entered.
"I will leave you two alone to talk" The Professor left his office, Scott closing the door behind him.
Scott stared at the red haired beauty, sitting helplessly, slumping in the chair. Scott walked towards her, keeping his distance. He felt emotionless for her; all his love seemed caged, oblivious for him to share. Scott looked at Jean, yielding his need to touch her. She stared at her hands, shaking in her seat. Scott got on his knees, finally getting a view of Jean's deep green eyes.
"What's happened to us?" He asked in a whisper. She shrugged her shoulders. She knew it was Emma's fault, but more importantly, her own. Before that witch came, everything was perfect, but now, everything is so ugly. Jean opened her lips to speak, but couldn't.
"Say something Jean" he begged, taking her hands into his.
"Don't let us die," she said quietly. Scott looked down at the ground, getting lost in the pattern of the carpet. Jean's statement caught him off guard. He wanted to say 'of course not, never', but it would be a lie. He didn't know what he wanted. Would it be better for him to tell her what she wanted to hear, or the truth?
"Never" he said.
She looked at him smiling slightly; she embraced him, kissing him ever so gently. The temptations they were facing were stronger than ever, and Jean knew the truth. She was tempted to probe his mind, but she trusted him, right? Who was she kidding? She knew Scott's curiosity would eventually get the best of him, much like her own would get the best of her, she didn't need her powers to know that. But, for now, they will live in this fairytale, until the wicked witch comes to destroy it. Scott cradled Jean's tiny frame to his chest, and placed her on the Professors desk, ignoring the papers they were destroying.
Logan's room
Darkness quickly settled itself, burying the sun beneath the horizons and replacing it with a full moon. The stars were bright, twinkling, sending glitz throughout the sky. Ororo slowly awoke, hearing a snoring Wolverine next to her. She turned to him, playing with his facial hair. He continued holding her to him, as if frightened she would disappear. He was an unusual man to her. He appeared rugged, ill mannered, colorless, and yet, he was gentle, kind, honorable, and very…man. Ororo sat up, attempting to rise from his bed, but he held her close. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and she played with the child like man, toying with her.
"Where do you think your goin'?" he asked, keeping his eyes closed. Ororo removed his hand from her waist and stood to her feet.
"I think it is time for me to leave"
"So you take advantage of me, and then just leave?" he joked, opening up one eye to look at the goddess. Ororo didn't reply, not feeling playful.
"You don't have to leave 'Ro" he said, putting his hands behind his head, propping it up. Ororo bent down and kissed his forehead.
"I know old friend" She fixed his blanket, tucking him in. She looked back at the lazy Wolverine and smiled before leaving his room.
She walked around the mansion, not having any destination in particular to settle at. She began smelling her hands, inhaling Logan's scent, nature, beer, and cigars. It was unappealing, but on him, it was…well…satisfying. She began regretting her decision to leave his room, feeling empty without his touch. She has craved that man, longed for his attention. Moments like that, just made him more desirable. Forge slept on one of the couches in the wreck room. She starred at him, watching his chest move up and down, rhythmically. Ororo looked down at her hand, starring at her ring finger, envisioning the very thing that destroyed them, was dressed on her hand. She shook her head at the thought, and decided to continue her walk. She walked outside, needing to feel mother earth beneath her feet. Ororo walked past the illuminated pool, a beautiful turquoise, a gem, chemically and man made. The world seemed darker, larger, or maybe she felt smaller. She was tearing at herself, her mind and heart in knots. Why did he come back? Cleaning his conscious of all its dirty deeds. Ororo was not so forgiving; it wasn't good enough for her. She could care less about his bad feelings; she was only concerned about her own. Her life was turning into a sideshow.
"Ah, the weather goddess emerges from her slumber with the wild man" Ororo turned around, finding no one. Only one soul could play tricks on her like that. Ororo looked up in the trees and saw a black figure sitting on a branch. The dark figure jumped, landing in front of Ororo, with the agility and grace of a jaguar.
"So, How was he?" she asked. Ororo rolled her eyes at her blunt friend.
"I wouldn't know Vixen" Ororo said, toying irritation. Mari Jiwe McCabe is one of Ororo's dearest friends, and also one of her more uncouth.
"I see," she said batting her amber eyes. Ororo put her hands to Vixen's pixie cut hair, playing with the layers.
"It is beautiful"
"Thank you. So tell me Ororo, have you and Forge reconnected?"
"There are no reconnections. I simply want an understanding" Ororo said rubbing her shoulders.
"An understanding."
"Yes, I believe so" Ororo said confused. "I honestly do not know what I am expecting from him. I know I don't want anything to do with him," she continued
"My dear beautiful friend, do not be bitter. A bitter woman will bring more grief to her life than needed, or expected." Vixen said grabbing a hold of Ororo's arms. Ororo looked at her friend, confusion written all over her face. "All I am saying 'Ro, is be forgiving. I know that is hard, but it's something you must do for you. I have to go, call me anytime darling" Vixen kissed Ororo on the forehead, and disappeared into the darkness. Ororo calmly thought about the advice given to her, maybe she should take it.
Logan's Room
Logan was tired and lonely. Though he'd die before admitting that.
Lying next to Ororo was surreal to him. Now that she was gone, he felt naked, if that made sense. All he could think of was her, she only woman that looked at him, no fear, just compassion. A dream is what she was, something to good to be true.
And sexy.
He couldn't get her out of his mind. He still remembered the feel of her in his arms, sharing his bed with her, wishing it were her body instead. A friend was better than nothing, but it wouldn't hurt to be her lover too.
.
