Love and Hate

I haven't decided if I'm happy with the way this turned out…oh well too late now.

Pietro felt a pang of guilt as he watched Kurt dial in the combination for his recently decorated locker which was cursing him back to Hell in huge graffiti letters. The pale mutant wasn't sure who had vandalized the X-man's locker, but he knew it was his fault.

The feeling, however, was slight and fleeting, swept away as the other boy swung the painted door open and began stashing his things for the day. He was addicted, he knew. And like any junkie, he held no reservations about using, exploiting, or abusing money, himself, situations, or other people if that was what it took to get his fix. It had been two days already, and he needed it...

He felt himself straighten instinctively, suddenly very alert. Pretty Kitty, as Lance would say, was gliding through the bleary eyed human traffic jam that was the Bayville High morning crowd. As much as Pietro disliked the annoying, cutesy nickname, he had to admit it was appropriate. With long chocolaty brown hair that seemed to dance around her shoulders, and a classic peaches and cream complexion, not to mention the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on anything two dimensional, Kitty Pryde defiantly had girl-next-door good looks that turned every head when she walked by. And, icing on the proverbial cake, she was innocently ignorant of it.

Perfect; all according to schedule.

With the careful intensity in which a predator stalks prey, he watched Kurt tuck a few stray hairs that had managed to escape her signature ponytail behind her ear, leaning forward brush his lips across her cheek where his fingers had just been. All the while he remained carefully in front of his still open locker, making certain to casually block it from her sight. No, Blueboy should be thanking him.

It was, after all, his continued antics that had basically shoved the two of them together; Kurt needing an almost constant source of comfort and reassurance, and Kitty ready and willing to provide it. After that nature had pretty much taken course. The only person he really had any reason to feel guilty over was that Amanda girl who had definitely gotten the short end of the stick. He considered Lance briefly but dismissed him as lost cause. Any chance the older boy may have had with Kitty had blown up with the mansion.

He had to have this timed perfectly…Now, where was…There.

Rogue didn't so much walk as stalk through the crowded hall with the quick, determined pace of one who would much rather be somewhere else and radiated a 'Get out of my way' aura the had people falling over each other several feet in front of her. In her own way, she stood out as much as Kitty. She was difficult to miss, the black and green of her outfit dark and loud against the dull, softer colors favored by most students. Her auburn hair hung freely just above her shoulders, shiny even in the poor school lighting, the startling white of bangs both eerie and lovely, bouncing against her egg shell face as she made her way to where Kurt and Kitty were obviously waiting for her.

He had to be careful; Kitty had taken to phasing everything within her reach at the slightest hint of breeze. Paranoid, but she had managed to catch him a few times, and if Rogue got a hold of him…he shuddered.

He shook that thought away, instead turning his undivided attention to the scene unfolding down the hall from where he stood safely just out of everyone's sight.

Kurt turned back to his locker, saying something that must have been romantic or cute because it made Kitty giggle sweetly and Rogue roll her eyes…half-turned to catch the undoubtedly sarcastic comment Rogue was making…reaching into the scholastic depths with his left hand…Bingo.

The busy hall blurred around him, sounds, smell, colors, faces, all merging into one continuous stream of incoherence, but ahead of him everything was sharp and clear.

It was over in less than a second. The Sifi-esc watch that projected the Kurt Wagner with five-fingered hands and ten toes on his feet, with pale skin and blue eyes, without fangs or a tail was dangling teasingly from Pietro's fingers, and he was standing nonchalantly at the other end of the hall, his lips curled into an arrogant smirk.

Both Kitty and Rogue went from casual and relaxed to absolutely livid and protective with a speed that almost had him impressed. Rogue actually started toward him, hand outstretched, murder in her brilliant gray eyes…

…But the injured party placed a calming hand on her shoulder, blue and fuzzy with only three fingers, and gently tugged her back. He then turned and marched down the hall, expression tiered, tail swaying agitatedly behind him, in full view of his classmates, who still flinched and whispered even when he wore the watch Pietro had just stolen.

He stopped just in front of the taller boy and held out his hand. "Need something Hairball?" he asked brightly, using his own bastardized version of the endearment utilized by most of the X-men.

Kurt sighed tiredly, "Look Pietro, I just want to get through the rest of the of year without fireworks alright? So will you please just give me back my watch."

But Pietro wasn't really even looking at him; his eyes were focused over his shoulder where both girls were watching the exchange with obvious anger and resentment. One of them scowling with deep and absolute hatred as only a sister can.

And that was what it was all about. Because Pietro and Lance had something in common. Those X-girls, man, he thought with sigh, Just can't help ourselves. But unlike Lance, Pietro understood that some things just would not be.

"Well, since you said please," and he tossed the watch into the air where Kurt's amazingly dexterous tail caught it without difficulty. Kurt was a little surprised to have gotten his way so easily but decided to look a gift horse in the mouth, strapping it securely onto his wrist and making the long walk past the gawkers back to Kitty and Rogue. The locker swung closed, and pointedly ignoring the paint, Kurt slipped his arm around Kitty's waist as they made their way away from the hall, away from the crowd, away from the event that had just taken place. Except one.

Rogue remained exactly where she had stood throughout the entire exchange, as Pietro had known she would. Her hands rolled into fists so tight they were shaking; her jaw clenched, and her lips set in a thin, straight line. Her posture was tense, muscles coiled and waiting, back straight, like a bow string just waiting to be plucked. And her eyes, suddenly dark, stormy gray blazing dangerously.

And his heart skipped a beat because she was looking at him; granted she was plotting his death, but at least she was looking. Negative attention was infinitely more desirable than no attention at all.

He flashed her his best smile, his whole body tingling pleasantly when her cold, angry expression deteriorated into an outright snarl, her lovely gray eyes flashing with all the things she would do to him if she ever got her hands on him.

His smile widened as she remained rooted to her spot and stared him down, whole body shaking with barely controlled rage. And then it was over, with the harsh buzz of the first bell she turned on her heel and stalked away, not sparing him a backward glance.

But that was okay because for thirty seconds, he had had her undivided attention. For thirty seconds, he was the absolute center if her universe. And he knew he'd consume her thoughts all day; he'd be there in the back of her mind as it played out all the sick little fantasies she had of all the creative ways she could hurt him.

And he would sleep deeply and well because he was going to be the last thing she thought of before she fell asleep, be in her dreams at night. Soon she would think about him as much as he thought about her.

He knew with every fiber of his being that nothing he could do would ever make her love him. But hate was an equally passionate emotion.

And she would hate him more than she'd ever love anyone.