A/N Guess what..I'm BAAAAAAAAACK. Those of you who've read my other stuff
understand why I took this off to re-write. Those who don't: it's
simple.I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing and it has to be
EXACTLY the way I want it and HOW I want it before I'll post and I'm not
above taking it off and re-writing it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, although my friend is currently looking in Canada for Wolverine as a b-day gift.hey I'm legal there at least!
Chapter One: The Wind
2am.
Moonlight settled softly over a petite form in a dark cherry Victorian- styled bed. The moon's pale light filtered down on the already beautiful features of a sweet pale-faced girl. Two silver highlights in her mahogany hair glittered and moved to the girl's soft breathing. The other girl, a brunette whose ability to phase frightened everyone who didn't know her, and who usually bunked in the same room as his Chere, was gone. Where he didn't know , but it was better for him.less risk. She was quiet now. Usually she was restless, tossing and turning when he got there. It was almost as if she could sense his presence near her. It scared him, it was another risk, but tonight she was quiet. Then he heard her stir again. She was reaching out for him again. Even in her sleep she wanted him by her side. He stepped by her bedside and knelt down next to her-staring into her beautiful face engrossed. Slowly her eyes began to open. He reveled in her sparkling green eyes. She smiled sleepily and asked softly, "So you're the one who's been haunting my dreams." He smiled but it was to dark for her to see him. It wasn't from him being scared, it was for her own protection. He nodded and stood up. Even in the darkness she could see his muscular figure. His soft breathing pattern sped up as the adrenaline rush picked up from thinking about the hot body twisting beneath the sheets of her bed. He could clearly see the petite yet perfect outline of her body from under the white sheets-the curvy body she owned but no one touched. As always though, it was time for him to go.
Softly, from years of practice in New Orleans, he retreated to the always- open window. It was a trick he had learned in the many acts of larceny he had committed. The last things to be seen in the darkened room were two glowing, vivid red eyes and the words that floated from them: "Aime mon Chere"
The mahogany haired girl in the bed began tossing and turning as soon as the lingering red pin-points left. A soft terrified moan escaped her pale lips. Her sweat glistened forehead thrashed back and forth. As if she were calling for his presence to come back. Then, her movements became more erratic, as if she were trying to escape. She was running, jumping, hiding from something that she did not see or know. Then it seemingly struck her like a thought. It had happened again. She was alone. Suddenly, she sat up in bed, wide awake. She was alone. Alone and scared. She couldn't even scream, only sit there and shake.
It was the never-ending dream. The same dream that had plagued her for several continuous weeks. It was eerily familiar. As if the person she had been searching for, the person that she was meant to be with, was right there. All she would have to do is reach out and touch them and they would be solid. It had been going on now for about a year; on and off, as if there was a switch. When she had it, she'd wake up soaked in cold sweat. She didn't know what had left her, but she needed it. It scared her, needing something. What really pissed her off was not the fact that she had never needed anything, or one for that matter, but that she didn't know what was continuingly being found and lost.
Then, like clockwork, Logan was there. They always seemed to know when the other had nightmares. When he saw her, he remembered her asking once if anyone other than themselves ever really understood how scared you had to be to not scream.
"Mine or yours," he asked in his gruff way.
"Mine."
"Wanna talk about it, kid?"
She hated that word-hated it with a passion. "No."
"Come here then."
She didn't move.
"It's alright. I got on a shirt and pants tonight."
She slowly peeled the covers back and moved over to him. She hugged him tight as he held her. And she felt safe-if not loved.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, although my friend is currently looking in Canada for Wolverine as a b-day gift.hey I'm legal there at least!
Chapter One: The Wind
2am.
Moonlight settled softly over a petite form in a dark cherry Victorian- styled bed. The moon's pale light filtered down on the already beautiful features of a sweet pale-faced girl. Two silver highlights in her mahogany hair glittered and moved to the girl's soft breathing. The other girl, a brunette whose ability to phase frightened everyone who didn't know her, and who usually bunked in the same room as his Chere, was gone. Where he didn't know , but it was better for him.less risk. She was quiet now. Usually she was restless, tossing and turning when he got there. It was almost as if she could sense his presence near her. It scared him, it was another risk, but tonight she was quiet. Then he heard her stir again. She was reaching out for him again. Even in her sleep she wanted him by her side. He stepped by her bedside and knelt down next to her-staring into her beautiful face engrossed. Slowly her eyes began to open. He reveled in her sparkling green eyes. She smiled sleepily and asked softly, "So you're the one who's been haunting my dreams." He smiled but it was to dark for her to see him. It wasn't from him being scared, it was for her own protection. He nodded and stood up. Even in the darkness she could see his muscular figure. His soft breathing pattern sped up as the adrenaline rush picked up from thinking about the hot body twisting beneath the sheets of her bed. He could clearly see the petite yet perfect outline of her body from under the white sheets-the curvy body she owned but no one touched. As always though, it was time for him to go.
Softly, from years of practice in New Orleans, he retreated to the always- open window. It was a trick he had learned in the many acts of larceny he had committed. The last things to be seen in the darkened room were two glowing, vivid red eyes and the words that floated from them: "Aime mon Chere"
The mahogany haired girl in the bed began tossing and turning as soon as the lingering red pin-points left. A soft terrified moan escaped her pale lips. Her sweat glistened forehead thrashed back and forth. As if she were calling for his presence to come back. Then, her movements became more erratic, as if she were trying to escape. She was running, jumping, hiding from something that she did not see or know. Then it seemingly struck her like a thought. It had happened again. She was alone. Suddenly, she sat up in bed, wide awake. She was alone. Alone and scared. She couldn't even scream, only sit there and shake.
It was the never-ending dream. The same dream that had plagued her for several continuous weeks. It was eerily familiar. As if the person she had been searching for, the person that she was meant to be with, was right there. All she would have to do is reach out and touch them and they would be solid. It had been going on now for about a year; on and off, as if there was a switch. When she had it, she'd wake up soaked in cold sweat. She didn't know what had left her, but she needed it. It scared her, needing something. What really pissed her off was not the fact that she had never needed anything, or one for that matter, but that she didn't know what was continuingly being found and lost.
Then, like clockwork, Logan was there. They always seemed to know when the other had nightmares. When he saw her, he remembered her asking once if anyone other than themselves ever really understood how scared you had to be to not scream.
"Mine or yours," he asked in his gruff way.
"Mine."
"Wanna talk about it, kid?"
She hated that word-hated it with a passion. "No."
"Come here then."
She didn't move.
"It's alright. I got on a shirt and pants tonight."
She slowly peeled the covers back and moved over to him. She hugged him tight as he held her. And she felt safe-if not loved.