Chapter Two

Kurt moved slowly through the attic, marveling at the variety of plants along every wall, hanging from every rafter, covering every surface. Some still bore broken branches and crushed leaves, lingering evidence of the raid on the mansion, he supposed.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the hundreds of plants and flowers. Beautiful. In all the expansive attic he found only one window not filled with plants. It faced eastward, and pillar candles of every size and color lined the window seat. A single, elegant sea shell was placed in the center of the seat and rich earth-colored rugs kept whoever meditated there from the chill wood floor.

He ran a finger along the edge of the shell, a faint smile on his lips as he thought of home.

"It is abalone," said a clear, feminine voice directly behind him.

Kurt spun in a panic, one hand clutching his rosary and the other thrown in front of him as if to ward off an attack. Ororo's eyes widened and she stepped back. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't mean to startle you."

He blinked and swallowed visibly, his hands finding his pockets. "Nein, no, I is he who should be being sorry." Ororo's head cocked and he took a deep breath, cursing his English and tendency to talk fast when nervous. "I did not mean to intrude. This is your place then, yes?

"This is my greenhouse, of sorts." She smiled enigmatically. "Greenhouse, sanctuary, it is many things to me, but you are welcome here." She frowned slightly. "Though I wish I had known you wanted to see it."

"I did not know it was here," he replied softly, suddenly afraid to look her in the eyes. "I found it while, um, wandering, and I was curious." He pulled a hand from his pocket and fingered the scar on his chin with a nervous thumb.

"Ah, then I understand." Her eyes scanned his face, his downcast eyes giving her a chance to really look at him. The scars whirled across his flesh, accenting his already strong features. "Curiosity should always be indulged."

He looked up at that. "You think so?"

"Absolutely." She smiled. "I'm curious why you keep to yourself. Do we disturb you?"

"No, no, nothing like that." He indicated himself with a graceful flourish of his hand and self-depreciating smile. "I'm accustomed to keeping to the shadows, if you get my meaning." That wasn't the truth, precisely, but it was all he was willing to say for now.

She took a step toward him, Roberto's innocent, but cutting words at lunch ringing in her ears. "You shouldn't feel that way," she murmured, her eyes suddenly full of sympathy.

"I suppose you're right," he said softly. Sympathy wasn't what he wanted, but she was a beautiful woman... and so near. He felt his heart quicken, wondering if she was as understanding as she was beautiful. And then she took his hand.

"Not here, not anywhere," she said, her thumb tracing the whirls on the back of his hand.

He recoiled. The scars again. Always back to the scars. "I sh-should go," he stuttered slightly, stepping back from her hand and disappearing in a puff of acrid smoke.

Ororo let her hand drop to her side, her palm slapping her thigh with a loud snap. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to her plants, stilling her inner voice's clamoring to go look for him.