Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. I'm doing away with the last chapter, because it stunk. Trust me, my hard drive reeks now. ^.^ I imporoved upon this chapter, and if y'all want it, then I will continue it. Mind you, it may take a little longer for that. Anywhoo, here you go.
Chapter Two
Ororo Monroe sat curled up in a chair, a plaid flannel blanket wrapped around her body, and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. It was an old mug, one she'd kept with her since before she found her way to Xavier's school. She handled it with care, overly cautious of the frailty of the chipping ceramic. A baggy pair of worn pajama pants donned her long, chocolate legs, an equally big sweatshirt hung around her waist. Her pallid hair was pulled back lazily in a sloppy ponytail, and the remnants of the day's make up lingered in only a few places. A book lay at her side, the pages dog eared and the cover faded. She was in the library, with shelves of books looming around her, like a steadfast protector. A fire blazed in front over her, flickering the shadows into a dance; and the sky outside was already pitch black.
The sky was characteristic of her mood, although she hadn't brought on the darkness. When it was daylight, wherever she looked, her eyes saw shades of black and gray, and if she was lucky, tints of sepia, though she knew outside it was light. She felt broken. A piece was missing from her heart, and no matter how hard or where she looked, she just couldn't find it. And even if she could, she doubted if she could fit it back into place.
Ororo took a sip of her coffee, feeling the bittersweet liquid slide easily down her throat, though it left a scorching path. She hadn't bothered to sugar it; she needed to know something else in the world was as distasteful as her mood. She'd tried to be the actress, nonchalantly brush it aside, but it all came back to her in the heat of the night.
She could still feel his breath against her cheeks, the frisson of his sharp teeth biting into her lips, the taste he had left in her mouth, and the scars his soft caresses had implanted on her skin. There was now blood, and no visible sign, but she knew they were there. She'd relived the kiss over and over in her mind. She had always hated reruns, but this was the sole exception. Ororo Monroe couldn't forget.
In her room, her bed lay pushed up against the wall. And through the thin layers of plaster and paneling, she could hear Kurt's murmured prayers each night and throughout the day. She often wondered if someone so pure as the incredible Nightcrawler believed he had too many sins resting upon his shoulders, how many did she carry on her own?
Everything in her mind told her to stop chasing, to forget anything ever happened. He was a mutant, but then again, so was she. He was blue and had a symptomatic demon look. He had sharp, pointed teeth, but despite them, had a smile that could charm anyone. He had a tail and intricately cut scars lined his body, each a symbol of a sin. And he was so truly devoted to God, so unlike herself. Sure, she believed, or she thought she did, but she couldn't compare to Kurt.
Ororo remembered the first time she'd laid eyes on him. She called upon the weather to catch him, and with the help of Jean, had balanced him upside down. His accent had rolled out, melting each and every one of her senses. It still worked every time, no matter what the circumstances. She hated the fact that a single chord could make it happen, but she loved it too. And while her mind told her it wasn't right, her heart said it was perfect.
Suddenly, she was compelled to pray. She placed the now cold mug of coffee a small table at her feet, tossed the blanket to the floor. The book fell down with her, and she placed her knees on the carpet just below the chair. She hadn't prayed in a long, long time, not since she'd came to Xavier's school. Maybe once or twice, only in the times she felt she needed a higher power than the weather to save her. And she needed that power now. Ororo clasped her hands together, then rested her elbows on the chair's seat cushion. They didn't feel right there, and didn't feel secure. Usually, with her hands placed as one, she perceived her being was confident and strong, and somewhat invincible. But no, not now. Definately not now.
"God," began the trembling voice, a phonation she hadn't been acquainted with. "Have I done something so wrong as to push Kurt away? Did I hurt him in any way, or does he simply not love me? I tried so hard to make it go away, but I've found that when I push it away, it only gets closer and I am not strong enough or bold enough to turn my back upon it. But I tried so hard, God, and I failed. I love him, but he had devoted his own life to you. Can a man truly love more than one person?" Ororo paused, gasping for breath that simply would not come. She quaffed what little air she could take in and let her tears take the place of the rest she needed. The landslide of teardrops brought down with it what little makeup she still wore. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand, then, with a sniffle, continued.
"I have many sins upon my shoulders, I know that all too well. And I don't believe any amount of begging and pleading for forgiveness would work. And I know I don't implore to you my wishes very often, and tonight may be the last. Please, take me into your arms so I may see what was unfeignedly meant to be. But I fear already that you've already forsaken my damned soul."
Ororo broke down with a sob, her cocoa chest heaving with circumscribed emotions. She body slid from its position to the floor, and as she slipped, the fallible mug went with her. The deep brown liquid spilled out onto the ruby carpet, spilling onto her own crimson regrets that lined the floor, inch by inch. The ceramic busted, sending splinters of it's being into her side.
Ororo Monroe didn't feel it. Her body had gone numb and she'd pulled her knees up to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close the doors to the outside world, shading her soul from the rest. And then, as her body went limp, she drifted into sleep.
And when she finally awoke, the sun was threatening to rise. At the first blink, her surroundings didn't register. The room was tinted a rosy pink, the shadows playing on every angle of the room. The books stood predominate over her body, and then she realized. It all came back to her in flashes, so fast she had trouble remembering.
She remembered her prayer quite clearly, and the feelings she had brought forth with those words. She still questioned why Kurt had turned her away, but she realized now she was in someone's arms.
God's arms.
He'd taken her after all, everything seemed right just then. She saw the world without seeing it first in black and white. Her utopia had finally arrived, and she knew what it felt to finally be loved. Her savior welcomed her with opened arms, quite unlike she'd expected. She lay in the position she'd awoken in for several moments, then decided to lift herself from the carpet.
As she looked around, she saw the carpet had changed it's color. The flooring wasn't the red she'd always saw before, instead it was a deep, royal blue. The color of Kurt's skin. But then a pang in her side drove the Nightcrawler from her mind. The mug lay smashed at her side, and a red stain melted in with the coffee's. She reached for the domain that had been assaulted, and felt the brittle intruders deep within her skin.
Ororo wrapped her fingers around the first shard she found and pulled, slowly and ever so slightly, but the pain was just unbearable. She told herself to stay strong, prayed to God for the will. But at the second tug, she let out a cry that she knew would be heard by all in the mansion. Instantly she regretted it, for she knew as well each mutant living inside the walls would come. Ororo clutched her skin, pressed it to stop the bleeding., and she held her eyes closed tightly as it if would ward away both the pain and the shards of the mug.
A curl of dark blue smoke appeared at the ceiling, and then eyes inside the blue. They were Kurt's eyes, and though the image wicked and demonic, she somehow felt comforted by it. Then suddenly, the infamous Nightcrawler disappeared, then reappeared at her side.
"Ororo? Are you okay?" The accent. It was still there, as it would likely stay forever.
"Has the floor always been this color, Kurt?"
"Blue? Yes, why?" The floors had been covered with her very own crimson regrets, and all along she'd been blinded by them. "Ororo, are you okay?"
"It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts!" It was all she could manage before she groaned again in pain. She felt so weak. How much of her blood had drained to the floor?
"What happened?"
"I was… I was praying, and I slipped." Kurt's eyes fell. He'd listened to her pray, listened to her sobs. He'd done this to her. He could forgive himself for making her cry, although he still couldn't, not yet, but hurting her like this… he wouldn't stand for it. "The mug broke underneath me, and I guess I passed out."
He'd left before that. He couldn't stand watching her cry. It hurt almost as much as hearing it at night. Ororo had yet to forgive the rest of the world, the so-called normal humans that were against her, and now he'd added to the load of her shame, the burden of her pain. He must've turned away as soon as she slipped. He could've saved her sooner, but she hadn't called out to him then.
Kurt could see it now. Ororo was wrapped in someone's arms and he found himself wishing they were his. The arms shimmered, a white that seemed to be composed of pure, natural light. And then the face. The face was that of what he imagined his savior to be. Ororo was with God. Her sins were gone; he couldn't see them now, as he could before, and she breathed easier now than ever.
"I'll get you to the Professor," said Kurt as he stood up. He'd been crouching, too close too her. Too close.
"No," begged Ororo. "Stay with me. Please, don't leave me. We'll wait for him to come. Please, don't leave me." Kurt didn't move, althought he didn't know what she was talking about. She'd called his name, and no one else would've came.
The arms loosened their grip from her body, and his God stepped back. Ororo looked up at Kurt, right past the spirit that had held her. She couldn't see him. Kurt stepped forward as the man disappeared, and he knelt down to the woman he so truly loved. A streak of her hair that had been pulled loose had been tinted red, from her blood, he guessed. She struggled her way up, sitting higher and Kurt pulled her in between his legs, cradling her as he would a newborn babe.
"It'll be alright," he murmured, and he planted a kiss on her forehead. Kurt wrapped his arms around the woman as he'd seen the spirit do, and he rocked her gently to the rhythm of their hearts, which now beat together, as one. A face arose from the shadows, and again it was the Lord. He smiled, creeping closer to Kurt, and then leaned in.
"It's alright to love another, my child. I encourage you to take her into your heart and keep her there. She is good for your Kurt. Don't push her away, for both your sakes. And the feelings you're feeling are not a sin, you're just merely human." And with those words, the spirit was gone.
"I love you," Kurt murmured again, into Ororo's ear, a single tear running over the scars on his cheek. "I love you so much."
Author's Note: I know I'll get more reviews telling me that the religion in this story isn't correct. I know Ororo doesn't believe in God, rather she has more of a pagan belief. But guess what else? For the sake of this fanfic, Ororo is a Christian.
Please review, y'all! I'll continue if you want me to.
Chapter Two
Ororo Monroe sat curled up in a chair, a plaid flannel blanket wrapped around her body, and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. It was an old mug, one she'd kept with her since before she found her way to Xavier's school. She handled it with care, overly cautious of the frailty of the chipping ceramic. A baggy pair of worn pajama pants donned her long, chocolate legs, an equally big sweatshirt hung around her waist. Her pallid hair was pulled back lazily in a sloppy ponytail, and the remnants of the day's make up lingered in only a few places. A book lay at her side, the pages dog eared and the cover faded. She was in the library, with shelves of books looming around her, like a steadfast protector. A fire blazed in front over her, flickering the shadows into a dance; and the sky outside was already pitch black.
The sky was characteristic of her mood, although she hadn't brought on the darkness. When it was daylight, wherever she looked, her eyes saw shades of black and gray, and if she was lucky, tints of sepia, though she knew outside it was light. She felt broken. A piece was missing from her heart, and no matter how hard or where she looked, she just couldn't find it. And even if she could, she doubted if she could fit it back into place.
Ororo took a sip of her coffee, feeling the bittersweet liquid slide easily down her throat, though it left a scorching path. She hadn't bothered to sugar it; she needed to know something else in the world was as distasteful as her mood. She'd tried to be the actress, nonchalantly brush it aside, but it all came back to her in the heat of the night.
She could still feel his breath against her cheeks, the frisson of his sharp teeth biting into her lips, the taste he had left in her mouth, and the scars his soft caresses had implanted on her skin. There was now blood, and no visible sign, but she knew they were there. She'd relived the kiss over and over in her mind. She had always hated reruns, but this was the sole exception. Ororo Monroe couldn't forget.
In her room, her bed lay pushed up against the wall. And through the thin layers of plaster and paneling, she could hear Kurt's murmured prayers each night and throughout the day. She often wondered if someone so pure as the incredible Nightcrawler believed he had too many sins resting upon his shoulders, how many did she carry on her own?
Everything in her mind told her to stop chasing, to forget anything ever happened. He was a mutant, but then again, so was she. He was blue and had a symptomatic demon look. He had sharp, pointed teeth, but despite them, had a smile that could charm anyone. He had a tail and intricately cut scars lined his body, each a symbol of a sin. And he was so truly devoted to God, so unlike herself. Sure, she believed, or she thought she did, but she couldn't compare to Kurt.
Ororo remembered the first time she'd laid eyes on him. She called upon the weather to catch him, and with the help of Jean, had balanced him upside down. His accent had rolled out, melting each and every one of her senses. It still worked every time, no matter what the circumstances. She hated the fact that a single chord could make it happen, but she loved it too. And while her mind told her it wasn't right, her heart said it was perfect.
Suddenly, she was compelled to pray. She placed the now cold mug of coffee a small table at her feet, tossed the blanket to the floor. The book fell down with her, and she placed her knees on the carpet just below the chair. She hadn't prayed in a long, long time, not since she'd came to Xavier's school. Maybe once or twice, only in the times she felt she needed a higher power than the weather to save her. And she needed that power now. Ororo clasped her hands together, then rested her elbows on the chair's seat cushion. They didn't feel right there, and didn't feel secure. Usually, with her hands placed as one, she perceived her being was confident and strong, and somewhat invincible. But no, not now. Definately not now.
"God," began the trembling voice, a phonation she hadn't been acquainted with. "Have I done something so wrong as to push Kurt away? Did I hurt him in any way, or does he simply not love me? I tried so hard to make it go away, but I've found that when I push it away, it only gets closer and I am not strong enough or bold enough to turn my back upon it. But I tried so hard, God, and I failed. I love him, but he had devoted his own life to you. Can a man truly love more than one person?" Ororo paused, gasping for breath that simply would not come. She quaffed what little air she could take in and let her tears take the place of the rest she needed. The landslide of teardrops brought down with it what little makeup she still wore. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand, then, with a sniffle, continued.
"I have many sins upon my shoulders, I know that all too well. And I don't believe any amount of begging and pleading for forgiveness would work. And I know I don't implore to you my wishes very often, and tonight may be the last. Please, take me into your arms so I may see what was unfeignedly meant to be. But I fear already that you've already forsaken my damned soul."
Ororo broke down with a sob, her cocoa chest heaving with circumscribed emotions. She body slid from its position to the floor, and as she slipped, the fallible mug went with her. The deep brown liquid spilled out onto the ruby carpet, spilling onto her own crimson regrets that lined the floor, inch by inch. The ceramic busted, sending splinters of it's being into her side.
Ororo Monroe didn't feel it. Her body had gone numb and she'd pulled her knees up to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close the doors to the outside world, shading her soul from the rest. And then, as her body went limp, she drifted into sleep.
And when she finally awoke, the sun was threatening to rise. At the first blink, her surroundings didn't register. The room was tinted a rosy pink, the shadows playing on every angle of the room. The books stood predominate over her body, and then she realized. It all came back to her in flashes, so fast she had trouble remembering.
She remembered her prayer quite clearly, and the feelings she had brought forth with those words. She still questioned why Kurt had turned her away, but she realized now she was in someone's arms.
God's arms.
He'd taken her after all, everything seemed right just then. She saw the world without seeing it first in black and white. Her utopia had finally arrived, and she knew what it felt to finally be loved. Her savior welcomed her with opened arms, quite unlike she'd expected. She lay in the position she'd awoken in for several moments, then decided to lift herself from the carpet.
As she looked around, she saw the carpet had changed it's color. The flooring wasn't the red she'd always saw before, instead it was a deep, royal blue. The color of Kurt's skin. But then a pang in her side drove the Nightcrawler from her mind. The mug lay smashed at her side, and a red stain melted in with the coffee's. She reached for the domain that had been assaulted, and felt the brittle intruders deep within her skin.
Ororo wrapped her fingers around the first shard she found and pulled, slowly and ever so slightly, but the pain was just unbearable. She told herself to stay strong, prayed to God for the will. But at the second tug, she let out a cry that she knew would be heard by all in the mansion. Instantly she regretted it, for she knew as well each mutant living inside the walls would come. Ororo clutched her skin, pressed it to stop the bleeding., and she held her eyes closed tightly as it if would ward away both the pain and the shards of the mug.
A curl of dark blue smoke appeared at the ceiling, and then eyes inside the blue. They were Kurt's eyes, and though the image wicked and demonic, she somehow felt comforted by it. Then suddenly, the infamous Nightcrawler disappeared, then reappeared at her side.
"Ororo? Are you okay?" The accent. It was still there, as it would likely stay forever.
"Has the floor always been this color, Kurt?"
"Blue? Yes, why?" The floors had been covered with her very own crimson regrets, and all along she'd been blinded by them. "Ororo, are you okay?"
"It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts!" It was all she could manage before she groaned again in pain. She felt so weak. How much of her blood had drained to the floor?
"What happened?"
"I was… I was praying, and I slipped." Kurt's eyes fell. He'd listened to her pray, listened to her sobs. He'd done this to her. He could forgive himself for making her cry, although he still couldn't, not yet, but hurting her like this… he wouldn't stand for it. "The mug broke underneath me, and I guess I passed out."
He'd left before that. He couldn't stand watching her cry. It hurt almost as much as hearing it at night. Ororo had yet to forgive the rest of the world, the so-called normal humans that were against her, and now he'd added to the load of her shame, the burden of her pain. He must've turned away as soon as she slipped. He could've saved her sooner, but she hadn't called out to him then.
Kurt could see it now. Ororo was wrapped in someone's arms and he found himself wishing they were his. The arms shimmered, a white that seemed to be composed of pure, natural light. And then the face. The face was that of what he imagined his savior to be. Ororo was with God. Her sins were gone; he couldn't see them now, as he could before, and she breathed easier now than ever.
"I'll get you to the Professor," said Kurt as he stood up. He'd been crouching, too close too her. Too close.
"No," begged Ororo. "Stay with me. Please, don't leave me. We'll wait for him to come. Please, don't leave me." Kurt didn't move, althought he didn't know what she was talking about. She'd called his name, and no one else would've came.
The arms loosened their grip from her body, and his God stepped back. Ororo looked up at Kurt, right past the spirit that had held her. She couldn't see him. Kurt stepped forward as the man disappeared, and he knelt down to the woman he so truly loved. A streak of her hair that had been pulled loose had been tinted red, from her blood, he guessed. She struggled her way up, sitting higher and Kurt pulled her in between his legs, cradling her as he would a newborn babe.
"It'll be alright," he murmured, and he planted a kiss on her forehead. Kurt wrapped his arms around the woman as he'd seen the spirit do, and he rocked her gently to the rhythm of their hearts, which now beat together, as one. A face arose from the shadows, and again it was the Lord. He smiled, creeping closer to Kurt, and then leaned in.
"It's alright to love another, my child. I encourage you to take her into your heart and keep her there. She is good for your Kurt. Don't push her away, for both your sakes. And the feelings you're feeling are not a sin, you're just merely human." And with those words, the spirit was gone.
"I love you," Kurt murmured again, into Ororo's ear, a single tear running over the scars on his cheek. "I love you so much."
Author's Note: I know I'll get more reviews telling me that the religion in this story isn't correct. I know Ororo doesn't believe in God, rather she has more of a pagan belief. But guess what else? For the sake of this fanfic, Ororo is a Christian.
Please review, y'all! I'll continue if you want me to.