A/N: This is my first foray outside of my usual fandom, and it is all my beloved Gertrude's fault. It's a departure from my usual style, but I hope the usual suspects will enjoy it anyways. :D
Disclaimer: Don't own. Stan Lee etc...
Time period: Set in the relatively peaceful time after Rouge and Wolverine's arrival at Xavier's, but before Liberty Island. This is Kyro. John wouldn't let me write anything else.
John's eyes blur over the open page in his Biology textbook. A glance at the library clock and he realizes he's been staring at the same damn page for the last 20 minutes. Mitosis, meiosis, why-should-he-give-a-fucsis? He wants to slam the book closed, shove it away from himself and jump out of his chair, maybe even let it topple over, just to hear the jarring, crashing noise of wood hitting tile as he got the hell out of the library.
It would be the patented Pyro storm off. And the people sharing the table with him: Rogue, Bobby, Kitty... would barely notice. He already knew what would come after he turned his back and walked away.
"What's his deal?" Rogue would probably ask.
"Does he have to have a 'deal'? That's just Pyro," Bobby would shrug his shoulders, dismissively.
"Think he's PMSing?" Rogue would joke lightly and Bobby would give her a half smile and return to his notes.
He's heard variations of that conversation before, in the midst of his storm off. His hearing isn't feral quality, like Wolverine's, but it's better than they think.
There's a part of him that has wanted to answer them in the past. Tell the people he almost calls friends, that he's tired, he's fucking exhausted. That bad dreams haunt his nights and he can't always shake them during the day.
"Well, gee guys... you see, in my nightmares I'm my step father's fucking punching bag all over again. Or I'm running away from a burning house, my mom screaming my name, or I'm in some back alley in New York City, half starved and always bruised... so forgive me if I get a little cranky about fucking Biology, 'cause it just. doesn't. matter."
He's thought about saying it, but he won't 'cause most everybody has a sob story at Mutant High, and how pathetic is it for Pyro to be weak enough to let all that past shit bother him. Still.
John slouches in his seat, stubbornly looking at the words about cell division without reading them. He has a feeling this new girl Rogue deals with some of the same shit that he does, but Bobby or Kitty? The thought almost makes him laugh. Bobby is so good. He's even heard Bobby defend him when others complain about his asshole stunts... but Bobby is frowning at him now, pointing to the textbook.
"Dude, we have a test tomorrow."
"So?" John sneers.
"So," Rogue jumps in as she turns to face him, "we need to study, or at least I do. This is the biggest test I've had since I started here. I don't want to screw up."
"You'll do great, Rogue. You've been studying really hard," Kitty says softly with a little smile that Rogue returns, and then drops her eyes back to her notes.
John is pretty sure Kitty is just as goody-goody as Bobby, if not more so. When Rogue and Bobby joke about his storm offs, she never says a word. It almost disappoints him, that she is so unimpressed with his theatrics. He steals a glance at her. She's leaning over the table, resting on her elbow and chewing on her highlighter cap. She frowns and then yanks the highlighter from its cap to highlight some particularly fascinating bit of information.
A thought occurs to him, not for the first time, that maybe she never says anything about what he grudgingly admits is classic attention grabbing behavior, because she simply does not care.
They share classes, mutual friends, a dorm... he shares her space and she allows him to do so because she is easy going like that, but he doesn't matter to her. He makes no impact.
John grunts in frustration and repeatedly clicks his Zippo in one hand while doodling with his pen on his notebook with his other. He can partially see Kitty through the hair hanging in his eyes. She frowns in earnest as her eyes flit to his lighter.
"John," she says quietly with a sigh.
He looks up and sees he has her full attention now. He smirks as he stares at her,
"Yes, Kitty?" he asks too innocently.
"Can you please?" she leaves the rest of her words unspoken. He wonders what her brain has filled in mentally... can you please go away, can you please stop being so damn obnoxious.
Her wide brown eyes are unblinking. She waits for him to respond and suddenly his is annoyed. Annoyed at her cute little face, lips, pert tilt of her nose. Her everything. It's not like she's a fucking model. He glares harder. She's just a … a girl. A short, quiet, too smart... girl.
With impossibly soulful eyes that currently seem to be staring right through him. And he cares, damn it. He cares what this slip of a girl thinks of him.
He meets her gaze squarely and decides that he will be immune to her everything. He smirks as she drops her eyes. He snaps the lighter- click, click, click, click! before closing it with a hard snap. That is her answer. Her proximity may be doing funny things to the rhythm of his heart, but he is still Pyro, the asshole... this is the kind of shit he does. This is what they expect.
She lets out her breath and closes her eyes,
"Fine. Like you'd listen to me of all people."
She mumbles those last words, in quiet frustration and John now wants to kick his own ass, for being such a giant one and not being able to stop... ever. Even for Kitty and her big brown eyes, saying please.
"Ignore him, Kits... tune 'im out. I do," Rogue says as she shoots him a warning look.
John takes in Rogue's I'm thinking about taking my glove off and hurting you glare, Bobby's resigned bemusement and then he glances at Kitty. She's back to studying. He can see her eyes moving along to the text on the page.
He is already forgotten.
The impulse to leave is stronger now, and this time he does not ignore it. He stands up, but silently, oddly enough... moving his chair out and then pushing it back in. The three of them are staring at him again, like they do so often.
And he wants to snarl, call them pansy ass losers and that he has better things to do... but suddenly he's tired of it, his usual schtick, because Kitty's gaze is on him now and she looks
disappointed.
He pulls his books into his arms and sighs. He should say something, but nothing clever comes to mind, so instead one words slips out. One that he hardly ever says.
"Sorry."
He mutters it under his breath and then walks out of the room, but not with his usual stride. The door closes softly behind him.
He leans against the door and peers into the darkness of the empty corridor. He flicks his lighter on. Pulls the flame, and soon he holds fire in his hand. First a glowing orb, then bigger, brighter... blue-ish white, golden orange flames, dancing as they spin under his control. John smiles as the fire heats his face. The orb changes as his thoughts drift back to faces on the other side of the door. Ribbons of heat twist and curve over his open palm, forming an outline of a woman, drawn in flame.
It takes him a second to realize he's cradling Kitty's likeness in his palm. He closes his fist quickly to snuff the fire out and walks away.
A/N part 2: I have a few more chapters for this story and I can't wait to post them! John may need his Zippo to light his fire... but for me? Reviews! They are the best fire to feed the muse! :)
Fan the flames, baby and Happy Valentine's Day!