Ororo sat at the secluded breakfast nook in the far corner of the kitchen, awaiting his return. She knew it was a matter of time before he walked through the doors and greeted her. She took a sip of her hot rooibos tea, as her index finger of her free hand swipe at the droplets of condensation on the bottle of Molson. This was usually their thing, their little rendezvous, after he would return from the cage fighting his bestial half demanded he take part in occassionally. Many claimed his habits of cage fighting and brawling were outrageous and disgusting, but not her. She knew the man and the beast he carried inside and knew that these "habits" were vital parts of him that made him who he was. One thing she would never do is have him make excuses for who he was to anyone.
Sitting here, waiting for him with their beverages of choice, was the beginning of the ritual she had developed to help him calm the savage beast after partaking in his "habits". A few minutes later, her heart rate picked up and her skin flushed. She could not help the small smile that graced her full lips, as this was her reaction whenever he was near. She eyed the tattered wife beater, torn jeans and beyond repair boots as he made his way silently through the kitchen back door, looking as fit as ever.
Logan could not help the surge of desire that gripped him upon resting eyes on his white-haired sweetheart and his beast sighed in contentment, as this was always his reaction whenever she was near. He took a few seconds to inhale deeply, taking in her sweet, alluring scent and that of the lingering scent of the Chinese food they obviously had for dinner earlier. He quickly made his way to her, kissed her cheek and the bite mark nestled between her neck and clavicle, and took the seat across from her. She slid the Molson within his reach, and he tossed her a grateful smile.
Silently, they communicated with each other.
Are you alright, dearest?
Never better, darlin'.
Logan reached across the table and took her smaller, smoother hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Ororo happily returned the pressure and did not even blink when he stood, took her almost empty cup from her, and emptied the remnants into the sink before tossing the empty Molson bottle into the recyclable trash. He returned to her, his hand outstretched. She did not hesitate to place her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up and into his chest. He winked at her before swinging her up in his arms and purposefully leading them outside to their lake, both eager for the next step in their ritual.