ok, this is another take to Just A Cup of Coffee. Storm's POV
Just a Cup of Coffee 2
Darkness surrounded her as she desperately tried to regain her bearings. "Is somebody there?" she said. An evil voice laughed. "Where am I? Show yourself!" she demanded. The voice chuckled. "This, wind-rider, is your punishment. Here you will die, to pay for the lives of your parents, whom you murdered." "NO! I didn't kill them, it was an accident!" she protested. "YOU were responsible, if not for you, they wouldn't have had to take so much time escaping, and they would still be alive." Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she weakly protested, "No, it wasn't me..not me. Mama...help me" "Murderer..." the voice whispered. In a desperate attempt to escape the voice, Ororo jumped to her feet and ran. She screamed as the ground fell away and she was trapped in a small hole. The voice laughed again, and just before the hole was closed, she saw who it was doing these things to her. "No...MAMA!" "Murderer..." she whispered again. "NOOOO!"
"NOOOO!" Ororo bolted up from her bed, drenched in her own sweat and tears. The dream was still fresh on her mind, she grabbed her robe and ran to her bathroom. One look at the mirror revealed that she was pale as a ghost, with tearmarks still visable on her cheeks. She stood, gripping the edge of the sink for awhile, before turning back and falling onto her bed. She remembered her mother's last words. "Murderer" she had said. No.. she thought I'm not a murderer. It wasn't my fault. But Ororo couldn't shake the words from her head, and she lay crying on her bed.
She must have been farther into her mind than she thought, because she didn't hear her door open, and was frightened when she heard a deep voice say her name. "Ororo?" She gasped and looked around trying to locate the source of the voice. She gave a small scream when she didn't recognize the large dark bulk standing near her door. Backing up her headboard, she caught a glimpse of blue fur in the light. Blue fur...Kurt? No, too large to be Kurt. Beast maybe? What's he doing up at this hour? she thought. "B-Beast?" she asked, still frightened. She heard him sigh, and wondered why he sounded almost disapointed. "Yes, Ororo, it's me. Forgive my intrusion, but I heard you crying, and wished to see if I could be of any help. Is everything alright?" Is everything alright? Oh, Henry, things couldn't be worse. If only I could tell you. But all the same, she answered, "Y-yes, everything is fine. Thank you for your concern." He didn't seem convinced, and she thought she saw a firm determination set into his eyes. He seemed to come to a decision on somthing then asked, "Ororo, might I inquire if you'd be willing to join me for some coffee? Since we are both awake, and I think both of us could maybe use some." Oh Hank, bless you for your caring. You don't know how much such a simple offer means to me. she thought. Indeed, some tea, since she prefered tea to coffee, sounded heavenly. She smiled and said, "Yes, thank you, some coffee sounds wonderful." Ororo couldn't help but notice the large grin, and began to smile herself. He playfully said, "Well then, dear woman, may I have the honor of esscorting you to this most wonderful of occasions?" He bowed and offered her his arm, grinning like a mischeivious child. Catching the drift, she laughed and curtsied. "Of course, sir. Please, lead the way." Taking his arm, they walked down the steps and through the halls. She thought to herself, Who would have thought that at 3 AM, I'd be walking to the kitchen to have tea with the Beast. I feel strangly like I'm in one of Kitten's fairytales...
As they neared the kitchen, a look of worry was etched into Hank's face. That's odd...why in the world would he be worried? Is...is it because he does not truly wish to do this? Would he rather be sleeping at this hour? Goddess, what I wouldn't give to be able to read the man's mind right now. she thought. When they finally reached the kitchen, relief was plainly evident on his face. "Is there somthing wrong?" she asked. He smiled. "No, Ororo, nothing is wrong." He walked over to the cupboards and pulled out two mugs. Turning to her, he asked, "Coffee or tea? I know you said coffee earlier, but come to think of it, I've never seen you drink it." Storm couldn't stop the smile that came to her face. He's more perceptive than I thought to have noticed such a small thing. "I'm amazed you'd notice such a thing. Some tea would be nice, thank you." Hank looked very proud of himself as he went around fixing the drinks.
One of the worst things about waiting for somthing, especially early in the morning is that it gives you a chance to think, and thinking was the last thing Ororo wanted to do. Tears came unbidden as she thought back to the nightmare. She wasn't sure how she ended up on the floor, but the next thing she heard was the mugs being set on the counter quickly and Beast leaning down to her, grasping her hands in his. "Ororo, what is wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with sincerity. She tried to answer, but she couldn't, and just cried harder. He seemed hesitent, then gathered her in his arms. She gave in to the tidal wave of emotions then, and sobbed against him. He rubbed her back and whispered soothing words to her, and eventually, it worked, and she calmed down. "O-Ororo, are you alright now?" he asked nervously. Shaking her mind from her trance at the sound of his voice. "Yes...Hank?" A wry look came over his face when she mentioned his name. "Yes?" How can I tell you how much that meant to me? How do I tell you that what you did, no one has ever done? she thought. "I...thank you." He looked at her and smiled. "You're welcom, Ororo. Anytime this happens, please feel free to come get me. Ororo couldn't stop the blush that came to her face as she said, "Alright..thank you." They sat there for a few minutes before she finally said, "I'm feeling tired again, I think I'll go back to bed...thank you again for everything." With that, not even waiting for a reply, she left, determined to sleep fitfully after that.
And so it went. She never told him why she had been crying, and he never asked, but sometimes, when it got so bad she couldn't bear it alone, she would walk to his room and cry against him. He never asked, just simply held her and let her ride it out. Most times she fell asleep, and he must have brought her back to her room, because she never woke up in his. It became their tradition. And to think...it all started with a simple cup of coffee...