I twirled
my red hair and sighed. Ororo and Logan, together. It took me a while to get
used to the idea. Not wanting to be unreasonable, I sort of became used to
Ororo being alone. I wanted to introduce her to some friends, but none never
seemed right enough, or her type. She never seemed unhappy, so I never got
around to it.
Yeah, me,
the telepath, pretending to be so blind as to think one of the most private
people I have ever known would broadcast her discontent. The thought just
soothed my nerves, and my conscience. I saw them one day. The day that the
mansion was empty, save me. Scott and Charles had taken the kids on a two day
excursion into New York City, to see a play and other museums. I couldn't go
regretfully, I was getting over a cold, and Logan and Ororo wanted time alone.
I really wish I had gone.
No one had
ever seen the two together, romantically that is. They were always business
when in public, but that sense of familiarity was hard to miss, in the scant
smile, the way he stood possessively close to her, the way she hastened to his
side in battle. It was there, but nothing of the loving sort that made your
realize that these two people are seriously involved. Not that I'm surprised. I
mean, they are both very covert and private people. Just a bit odd when I put
them against the outline of Scott and I.
I was going
to relax in the study, read a much neglected book and enjoy my freedom for the
while I had it. I had a book underneath my arm, my hot cup of tea in my hand,
my other on the knob when I heard it. I was startled at first. Laughter.
Ororo's laugh. Coming out of what should be an empty stairwell. Surprising
because the mansion is so large, only three people and some staff in it, what
were the odds that we'd be in the same part so close together?
The doctor
in me, the woman in me, wanted to know why she was laughing. I relinquished my
hold on the door and put my book and tea down. Walking down the hall, I stopped
beside a loud smelling plant and looked through the latticed banister of the
large oak stairs. That is when I saw them.
Ororo was
against the wall, hemmed in on both sides by Logan. He had his hand on her hip,
the closeness enviable. She laughed as he kissed her, such contentedness and
joy in that bell like sound. Logan started down her neck and she hit him on the
shoulder playfully. He growled a little and she kissed him briefly, and it had
a calming effect on him, the intimacy I was witness to beautiful in its
simplicity. He buried himself in her long hair, Ororo sighing and relaxing
against him.
He was
never this controlled, this easy around me. Even when he was chasing me, when
the hunt was new and bright. It was always fast paced, hurried, fumbling lust
as he tried to capture me. That was love I saw in his embrace, the way he held
her, stroked her hair and kissed her.
So was that
what I was to him?! Just someone to chase in the time it took for someone
better to come along? Apparently it was, and I was jealous. By no means did my
desire for Logan lessen my total love for Scott. It's just that I was never so
immediately aroused by him than when Logan brushed against me. It was pure,
animal attraction, one that appealed to my body so totally, that my mind and
heart took a backseat to the roar of desire.
Scott, my
attraction to him was born of intellectual interest, then deepening curiosity,
and the clincher was the fact that he had so many admirable traits. I could do
no better, and I still think that. Logan isn't better, just different. My love
for Scott came before I actually yearned for his body, and it is more lasting
that whatever I could have had with Logan. But that's isn't the point. I never
had the chance. I never saw this side of him before. I didn't know it existed.
Yeah…I'm supposed to be a telepath.
Having men
flock to me fueled my smiles, gave me confidence. I always knew Ororo was more
beautiful than myself on a good day, she just didn't use it. Well, not the way
I used it. I'll admit, being beautiful opens doors. It got me Scott. You can't
look at a person and think, oh, they have nice morals. Only telepaths have that
ability. He told me that one of the reasons why he was interested in me was
because he loved my voice. The voice that soothed his nerves and calmed him
when he had no way to vent. I loved him for that. I still do. One of the nicest
compliments I've ever received.
Men are
more comfortable with a beautiful woman. Someone they can charm, they can try
their game on. I'm flamboyant. I laugh at their jokes, I smile, I humor at
times. But I know it isn't real. Ororo doesn't do that. And she could! Her
smile makes guys take off their wedding ring, her walk could be registered as a
lethal weapon. Wish I could walk like that. Tried it once and nearly broke my
hip.
A burst of
passion hit me, almost made me physically react. Almost. I snapped out of my
thoughts. Ororo was no longer laughing, but serious as she smiled softly as
Logan kissed down her collar. She sighed and wrapped her long legs around his
waist, and he carried her up the stairs. Most likely to her room. I wait until
they reach the floor before moving, glad that I chose to stand by the plant.
Its smell masked my own, and no matter what my thoughts, I didn't want to
interrupt them. With all that we've had to do in the last month, I'm surprised
they've got any time to themselves.
I walk to
my forgotten objects, picking them up but my body is on autopilot as I open the
door and walk in. The large, vaulted room soothing me slightly as I plop down
in an overstuffed chair. I realize I no longer desired my tea, which as become
slightly cold. How long was I watching them? I realize I don't want to read
anymore either. So I just sit there, watching my cup spin on the air as I use
my powers for another miniscule entertainment.
I thrive on
competition. I need it actually. To find where I am among other people. I feel
the need to be the best, and for everyone else to know I'm the best. It's a
shortcoming I know, but it's something that made me the way I am. I deal with
it and acknowledge it.
I guess it
wasn't intentional to compare myself to Ororo. I usually am not that petty.
We've been friends for many years, since we've been here at the institute
together. She was so quiet and dignified, it intrigued me, and it intrigued
Scott, someone who Professor Xavier had already saved from the grips of an
orphanage.
She was
calm and graceful, quiet and serene, most things I was not. So I learned to
relax, to project the feeling of collectiveness. To move with a purpose, to
look and be someone that people needed, or thought they needed, to know. And it
worked with Scott. It wasn't a deception. It was me, I just learned it from
Ororo. Scott became interested in me instead of Ororo and I decided that I had
some traits that had worth as well. She helped me gain self confidence.
I guess the
first thing I noticed was that I couldn't wear clothes like Ororo. Even Scott
looked twice at her when we first tried on our uniforms. I had to close my
mouth as she swept past in her cape, looking like some leather goddess. I was
jealous. I'll admit it. I, in no way, looked badly, just not as good as she
did. And that was important to me. To look good.
Her hair
always held a glow. Such an interesting color, the color of clouds and mist.
Mine just a red. A fire. People make fun of the color, coming onto me with
lines like I bet you're a firecracker in bed, and others too stupid to attempt
to remember. They always said mine shone, but shine is different from glow,
much more superficial.
While I'm
picking apart our differences, and I'm alone and the Professor isn't here, I'll
go all out. I laugh slightly, but it helps me when I clear my chest, and I
think I have about seven years of this to let go.
Her hips.
Why couldn't I have been born with a pair like that. I know that guys like
curves, something to hold onto. I'm not a stick figure, but I don't really
compare. She has a true hourglass figure, something I really envy. I like my
chest, but sometimes I wonder if people would treat me different if I had hers.
She wears shirts that show off every flaw and curve, leaving not much to the
imagination, but with tasteful dignity. From what I've seen, she has no
imperfections.
She smiles
and it's all natural. I had years of orthodontia work when I was in my teens,
my parents wanting the perfect child and willing to pay for it. I had braces,
but I was taught not to show your imperfections, so they were invisible. I
worry about mine still, especially one in the back that wants to curve around.
I tried to turn it with my telekinesis, but it hurt like hell, so I stopped.
My lips are
a bit thinner than I want them, I'll come right out with that fact. I don't
muse my lipstick in anyway because I think the lips are an important part of a
woman's allure. So I wear lipstick as red as my hair, perfectly and evenly
applied. Ororo doesn't wear lipstick. She doesn't need too. Perfectly put
together, without looking over coifed and high maintenance.
I take a while to get ready in the
morning. I know for a fact she can jump out of bed at four a.m. and look beautiful.
We shared a room for two weeks before her room was finished.
I sighed. I could see why Logan
picked her over me. But hey, I still have Scott, and that's a hell of a lot to
fall back on.
*
A couple of hours later I found
myself by the lake, walking along the paved path. Thinking about how I felt and
what I was thinking, the beautiful water calming whatever ill thoughts I had. I
turned as I heard my name. I smiled, it was Ororo.
"Hey." I said as she caught up to
me.
"Hi. Lovely day for a walk isn't
it?" She smiles and the wind blows her perfect hair and I sigh inwardly.
"Yes it is. So what's up?" She
shrugged gracefully and we started walking.
"Nothing really. We haven't really
talked in a while, with our busy schedules and all."
"That's true." We walked in silence
through, an awkward feeling coming over us. "Are you happy?" I turn to her
quickly. She smiled and motioned to a bench.
"I am." She said softly, smiling.
"Were you unhappy before?" I
crossed my legs self consciously, and watched her.
"Somewhat. I was alone. I'm not
anymore. I found I couldn't be a solitary creature."
"For a while I thought you could."
She looked slightly surprised.
"Are you mad that it's Logan?" My
heart started hammering in my chest. Why did she have to ask that?
"Not really…"
"Just disappointed." She said,
always full of compassion and understanding I couldn't take it any longer.
"Damn it 'Ro! Why can't you for
once do something where I am justified in feeling how I feel?" I stood, angry
without reason.
"Because I don't know what you're
talking about." She stood as well, crossing her arms.
"If I landed Logan, I'd be smug as
hell!" I threw up my hands as the wind picked up slightly.
"Why should I be smug? You've got
someone, I've got someone. Why can't I be happy, and just that?" She asked
angrily.
"I don't know! Because I wanted
him!" There, I had finally said that aloud, to her face. She looked shocked,
then her face became grim.
"So that's what this is about. I
can't be happy, but you can?"
"I didn't say-"
"That goes without saying!" She
stamped her foot and lightning flashed. Dark clouds rolled in quickly, and I
looked up as a large, fat droplet flew into my eye.
"I'm sorry." The wind's roar dulled
considerably. Ororo's eyes went white as she brought the weather and her mood
back under the tight control she constantly fought for.
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry. I just…do you
love him?" I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer.
"Yes. Very much so."
"Then I wish you all the best." We
both started to cry and hugged, the rift that had been forming for weeks
finally closing up.
*
I watch them at times, interacting,
enjoying each other. I smile, and the green eyed monster rears its ugly head.
Although I convince myself I am perfectly happy with Scott, I still yearn for
Logan at times. But I'm not jealous. Am I?