Chapter 11: Intensity of Change
She'd been awake for awhile, but hadn't moved, preferring his embrace to anything else. His hands possessively cupped her backside, pulling her flush against his chest. She smiled as she inhaled his scent mixed with hers and replayed last night in her mind. She sighed and cuddled closer, remembering the sensation of snow melting on her skin.
Ro, I don't know what you were doing out there, but why is it like 75 degrees?
Don't be coy, Jean, you know exactly what she's doing.
"I resent that! I'm just laying out here." She chuckled, leaning up on her elbow to look outside at the incredibly sunny morning.
Pop's pissed though kiddo.
"He shouldn't meddle where it isn't his concern." She released her unknown hold on the weather, and watched as the clouds rolled in on their own accord.
You're not even one hundred feet from the house. How is that not his business?
"When you have sex with your boyfriend is it any of his business?"
She's got you there Jean.
Shut up Betsey.
Don't tell me to shut up because you know I'm right.
You're not right you're just annoying.
"Both of you shut up. Listen to me and listen well; Father has no dominion here. He needs to learn how to be a father and not an overbearing puppeteer."
You say all that as if you don't love him at all, Ro.
"I say that as if I'm tired of having my life run for me. I'm nearly thirty and this relationship is the best one I've had all my life. Why? Because I kept him away from Father as long as I could. Any time he gets hold of any man I love what miraculously happens a few weeks later? They break up with me. He essentially picked Scott for you Jean, and Warren for you Betsey. I'm not going to be arranged in a relationship for his benefit."
Their silence let her know she was proven right. Charles had always been really hard on her and her relationships. Every never heard him say a kind word to or about any of her suitors. She didn't just have to go to school, she had to go to the best and be the best. She didn't have to just be well-rounded; she had to attend the best clubs hosted by the best people. It had been that way for all of them, but whereas Betsey and Jean appreciated the opportunity, Ororo had always wanted to achieve more with less, feeling that the experiences in life were worth more than who they were with.
Remy groaned and rolled on his back, tightening his hold on her waist, pulling the weather witch onto his chest, "Mornin' cher."
"Morning Remy."
She blushed; why was she suddenly so shy? Given everything that happened between them last night, she would think she'd be empowered, maybe even kittenish, but here she was, with nothing to say on Christmas day. His fingers tickled up her spine into her tangled mane, twirling strands between his fingers. His smile made her heart thud against her sternum and her blush increased, knowing he could feel it.
It was his intensity, she decided, that made her so loathe to say anything. He claimed her, over and over and over…seemingly needing no rest. She'd said such things, such dirty things, last night that she'd never said before, but in her defense, his touch made her feel like never before. His hand was heavy, yet gentle, his solid, lithe body like steel wrapped in velvet. Goddess, was he intense.
"Should we get up now? What time do presents usually get opened 'round here?"
"About noon," she answered, her voice sounding tiny and timid even to her.
Sitting up a little, she dusted his auburn locks from his eyes, grinning in delight at their beautiful ruby color, "I…I'm sorry if I sound…I just don't really…I mean you were-" she laughed and shook her head, hiding her blush behind her curtain of hair.
"'s alright cher. Truth be told, I don' really know what to say back to you, but I think that's a good thing."
"I suppose some things don't need to be…"
"Mmhm. And just to be sure…was it snowin' in here?"
She smiled as he pushed the hair away from her face, "Maybe a little. Did it…bother you?"
He touched his nose to hers affectionately. "Non, I quite enjoyed meltin' it with you."
"…the strangest of lights last night. It was pink in color. Tell me I wasn't the only one who saw it?" Hank asked around the breakfast table.
"I didn't see nothin' Hank," Remy replied, sipping his coffee nonchalantly.
"Nor did I, Uncle. Maybe a shooting star?"
Under the table, her hand was lasciviously placed in Remy's lap. Whatever shyness she had earlier was dissipating now with her want of him. The pink light, as it was being called around the house, was apparently coming from the greenhouse of all places. He'd distinctly remembered his energy illuminating his whole body in red and as he met with his lover, her lightening meeting his fire turned the entire enclosure pink. The energy swirled and swilled around them like liquid, igniting them. To his amazement, the snow she produced would meet their skin and instantly melt into rivers, which they both eagerly lapped up. He cleared his throat, trying to shoo the images away while fighting his growing need for Ororo.
Jean and Betsey were giggling and grinning; surely sharing thoughts with their calmer sister. He'd become accustomed to that side of her, the poised and calmly disengaged Ororo, but the Ororo he knew, the one he loved, was effervescent and funny. His Ororo was kind and sweet, with a healthy curiosity and intuitiveness that made her seem motherly to anyone who knew her. His was a warm weather witch. Her light squeezes upon him made the blood suddenly rush from his head and he couldn't fight it anymore.
He excused himself politely from the table, smiling all around. As he left the dining area, he ruffled one of the children's hair and waved to a table of teenagers. She sighed as her eyes followed him, her knee bouncing with anticipation. What was it about making love with him that made her want to never stop? Was it his ease with children? The kids at the Academy had taken to him like a new uncle of sorts; the girls would giggle and blush in his wake while the guys had taken to mimicking him and his mannerisms so much as using casual French slang. The younger ones, oh how they loved him. He would paint with them, tutor them, and climb trees with them…
She'd thought she'd been in love once, but it never felt like this; this felt entirely fulfilling. Although she'd see him all the time, her heart would nearly burst at the sight of him entering a room. Butterflies would flutter against her ribs when he called to her. And don't let him look in her eyes for too long; the depth, the color…Seriously, she could look at him forever, and wouldn't mind making love with him until the cows came home.
Jeez, woman, just go get him already.
Jean laughed. Bets is right, all that lovey dovey in your brain is making us a little nauseous.
Speak for yourself! I think it's hot.
Pervert!
The three of them giggled, which finally drew the increasing ire of Charles.
"And what pray tell, is so hilarious girls?"
"It's an inside joke Pop; a dirty one at that. Not suitable for the breakfast table."
"Then please, keep it all to yourselves. Ororo, where were you after lunch yesterday? Nobody saw you at all."
"I was tending to my flowers Father. I'd overestimated the gardener's talents with them and a few needed a little more help than others. I'm sure I wasn't too missed."
I know what you were doing with that…that cretin last night. How disrespectful. How indicative of how he sees you that he doesn't have enough morals to not desecrate you on your father's property.
"Stop being so dramatic, I've been having sex for years. Besides, if anything he was the one being desecrated. Over and over again, with no complaints."
Charles cough caught the table off guard, but Ororo simply smiled and excused herself. Before anyone could notice, she was gone. Betsey and Jean kept their eyes down as their father's eyes found them. They knew how he felt about closed-circuit telepathy around him, but had taken to doing it to keep him out of their private thoughts and feelings all the same. What frightened them more than their father was the fact that Ororo's words had suddenly taken root in them. They'd never wanted for anything as Xavier girls. They never had to work hard to be accepted, as they were at the top of mutant hierarchy. They never had to struggle to choose the right path, as their father would always subtly nudge their minds in the right direction, his direction.
The earth trembled a bit under their feet before a loud crash of thunder erupted from the side of the house. The children rushed to the windows to watch red-tinted lightening touch the earth. Snow was melting under the heat from the light show and they all oohed and ahhed. Betsey howled with laughter as Jean blushed a shade or two lighter than ripe tomatoes. Whatever Remy was doing, Betsey hoped like all hell he'd keep it up. Change was good, and it was about time something changed.
