Sin

Some say love is not for sinners
I believe that isn't true
Cause when I was finished sinning
Love came down and showed me you

Logan had more than his fair share of sins under his belt, that was for sure, but when he least excepted it, out of nowhere, she appeared. He was gruff and detached, that was just his nature, but she seemed to spark something in him, something he forgot he even had. As time passed, he became less of the protective father-figure, and more the territorial, possessive alpha-male.

And you told me how to get there
So I tried to find a way
Then I ran into your garden
But I tripped out the gate
I tripped out the gate

He faltered around her, ever so slightly. It was a delicate situation, one that she was blissfully unaware of.

He finished with his ice-cold shower, and towelled his hair into its usual tussled shape, before dragging himself downstairs, aftershave would only create confusion, and he needed his senses crystal clear.

What are you doing to me?
I'm so into you
And the hardest part is knowing that I'll never follow through
You're slowly killing me
And I wish it wasn't true
Cause I'm so into you

Watching her was a slow, methodical torture he willingly and repeatedly inflicted on himself. He sat by the window, unnoticed, as he watched Bobby and Rogue laughing over the television program they were watching.

He let the sound of her laughter wash over him like a gentle rain after a thousand year drought. His keen hearing picking out every note, every breath, making it separate, drawing it out, as if to make it span a thousand lifetimes. He heard the soft sound of flesh against cloth and it sent shivers down his spine. He drew in her sweet, soft scent, and felt if he didn't find some excuse to touch her, to talk to her, he would go insane.

Like a ton of bricks it hit me
And woke me from this dream
No matter how hard I tried to wash my hands
I could never get 'em clean
I could never get 'em clean

Prowling the grounds to get his feelings and thoughts under control, he tried to pinpoint, the moment he had first realised…

Was it in the bar, when she had looked at him in surprise, but not fear; never fear? Had it been when they were traveling, and he was admiring her sheer guts and utter abandon for her own well-being, that she had risked hitching a ride as his stowaway? Had it been when she sat helpless in a burning truck while a rampant Sabretooth persisted to beat his brains in? Had it been when he woke up, confused, and in a strange place, only to find her gone? Had it been when she looked up at him, with pain and apology- but never fear- for what she knew she had to do, as his claws sliced through her? Had it been when he went to find her after she had ran, believing some lie meant to make her do just that? Had it been on the train, when she fell to pieces in his arms, and he had promised to take care of her; the very promise that was causing him so much pain? Had it been the helpless feeling of realizing they had been wrong, and it had been her they had been after all along? Had it been the gut-wrenching horror he had felt at not being able to help her when she needed him most? Had it been the sense of extreme loss as he held her, prepared to sacrifice everything, yet unable to bring her back? Had it been the sudden rush of fear he had felt, as he awoke to the realization it may have all been in vain? Had it been seeing the look in her eyes as he told her he was leaving? Had it been the joy he saw there when he finally returned? Or had it been the pain at the thought of losing her again, as she was sucked from the plane?

It had been all of it, every torturous second, and even before, he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't-

Hadn't-

He couldn't even say it. Not because he was afraid; never because he was afraid, but because to say it would ruin it. Taint it.

Growling in frustration, he felt emotion claiming him. The Wolverine never cried, crying was a weakness, but for her, he'd be weak. For her, he'd be everything, all at once. The pain of longing was crushing him, a slow, steady, deliberate pain that would only stop if he risked everything, and in doing so, robbed a girl of her innocence; her youth. The Adamantium process was tough, it was painful, but this was worse; so much worse. He would gladly undergo the process a thousand times, if it could only equal the pain he was feeling.

So he would watch, and he would sin, and he would never approach; and it was killing him.


What are you doing to me?
I'm so into you
And the hardest part is knowing that I'll never follow through
You're slowly killing me
And I wish it wasn't true
Cause I'm so into you

When he entered the mansion looking for her, searching for her; yearning for her, as he always did, he followed her scent upstairs to her room, and knocked gently.

"Come in", her voice was velvet, and he almost purred at hearing it.

He just stood there, watching her. The deep brown of her dress as it hugged her body, every curve, then fanned out in a full skirt that came to just above her ankles, seemed to shine with a life of its own. She had yet to put her gloves on, so he watched enraptured as her pale hands swept her brown hair up into a simple ponytail. She had curled her hair in tight ringlets, so it had a surprisingly sophisticated affect. She fastened it into place with jewelled hairpins, and slipped a flower into her hair.

Rogue looked up as she noticed him standing there, turning, she smiled, and did a child-like twirl, making her skirt fan out.

Can you hear me?
Cause I can't change what I've always be

She landed in his arms, laughing, careful not to touch him. He smiled at her as he took note of her long white, gloveless arms and bare feet. His eyes traveled, unknowingly, to the hollow of her throat. Pulling out of the embrace, she pulled a necklace from her drawer and presented it to Logan, while she turned around.

Taking a steadying breath, he brought the necklace around and fastened it, slowly, deliberately. Every second was agony, but he would enjoy it; even if it killed him. Turning toward him, she smiled, and he saw the pendant resting in the hollow of her throat. He ran his teeth along his lower lip, pretending to be studying the design, but he was really just fixated in watching the tiny motions her throat made as she breathed. She pulled a set of deep brown opera gloves from her bed, and slowly began to put them on.

Logan's hands twitched as he fought the overpowering urge to help her. God, if he could touch her, just once…. His eyes traveled up her arms, as she slowly rolled the gloves over her soft flesh. Then came the sandals that strapped at the ankle, the white streaks of her hair were left to frame her face in wavy curls, and he wanted so much to brush them aside, as they fell over her face.

What are you doing to me?
I'm so into you
And the hardest part is knowing that I'll never follow through
You're slowly killing me
And I wish it wasn't true

Screw it, Logan grabbed her and whirled her round; skin be damned, he caught her mouth up, and didn't even stop to register the pull, as his life bled willingly, breathlessly, almost forcibly into her. When he awoke, he used nearly al his gradually returning strength to make her understand. He needed her, wanted her. He found the pull of her mutation a willing, and more than fair price for the pleasure he would take in such a privilege.

Logan pulled out of his daydream where he and Rogue had proceeded to dance the night away, as her dress shifted against him, and he held her close; Bobby had arrived for their date. She smiled over his shoulder at the boy she was with, swept past Logan, resting a brief hand on his shoulder, as he watched her disappear. The sound of the door closing was the sound that would echo through his dreams, the sound that would haunt him, and the final sound that would rest with him in the grave, and beyond.

Cause I'm so into you
I'm so into you
Cause I'm so into you

I'm so into you