The empty halls of the upper compound of the school were pierced by the harsh electrical sound of a recorded bell echoing through the silence. A moment later, teens streamed in from all angles, some chattering and laughing to each other, some keeping inconspicuously to themselves. It didn't matter how one's character was, here. To be accepted, you had to be different, really. It was this strong value, stamped irreversibly into the mind of each and every student, that made life so fulfilling and easily enjoyed for all young mutants.
The sound of banging locker doors signaled the beginning of the movement to the next class for all students. Slowly, the numbers of teens flooding the corridors dwindled, to inevitably leave the halls as empty as they had been five minutes ago.
It was strange, thought Ororo, how something could change so quickly, to only become itself again in no time at all. She sat behind the desk in her own private classroom, fiddling idly with the black marker she had just been using to instruct her first-years on the finer details of... what had it been again? The mutant woman cursed silently, shaking her head and permitting herself a long-suffering sigh.
Her thoughts had been rather scattered of late, like motes of fine dust disturbed by a breath of gentle breeze. And Ororo thought she knew the identity of the current. In fact, she knew exactly whom it was that left her bereft of focus.
The man Kurt had tugged at the seams of her soul from the moment she had laid eyes on him. She had instantly pitied the forlornly slouched figure, his dark and brooding nature, and his utter loneliness borne of total detachment from the outside world. She couldn't help but wonder about his shrouded past. All she knew of him was that he had been in the Munich Circus, performing under the name of "The Incredible Nightcrawler".
Poor man. He had been forced to display himself as a freak of some sort, before the myriad eyes of endless crowds. And he had probably been rejected. Ororo couldn't even begin to imagine looking so completely different to the normal human being. Even Mystique had the ability to change her appearance. Kurt had no such luxury.
Ororo did not think of Kurt as being physically attractive by any means. How could anyone gravitate towards unnaturally blue colouring, razor-sharp teeth and three fingers? He had the look of a somehow distorted demon.
And yet, Ororo was attracted to this man. She had forced herself to come to that conclusion some time ago, even before Jean's rebirth. She simply loved him. She loved everything about him – his sorrowful posture, the perfect blue tint cloaking him, his gentle nature, his innocence, and his kindness – all of it.
But there was something that held her back from him. Though she loved it in him, he was devoutly Catholic, beyond the bounds of reason. It had touched her very soul when she learned the extent of his faith in the Christian G-d, but now it frustrated her. It seemed like an impermeable barrier between them, imperceptible but unquestionably fathomed.
A new determination welled up inside the mutant woman. She would not – could not – allow this to carry on any more. She had to sort this out, and now! This unsatisfied desire had been eating at her heart for too long. She just had to know now – did he feel the same way?
Ororo pushed out her chair from under her desk and stood, leaving the black marker to roll forward and off the end of the desk. She watched as it fell, her nerves twisting her stomach uncomfortably.
But the snow-haired woman exited the vacant classroom with as much determination as with which she had stood from her desk. She was glad of the spare she was granted once daily for lunch. Now, her thirst would be quenched. She would discover Kurt's love for her, she was certain. She had seen it in his irresistible golden eyes.