Chapter 8
A/N: I'm not even going to give a reason why this is so late. It's been a long time since I've updated. Also, the other half of this chapter got deleted and I don't really have time to rewrite it, so it's a short one this time. Sorry, folks.
Wolverine
Could it have been love? He wondered as he stared, awestruck at the beautiful, blushing girl in front of him. After years of knowing her, years of losing hours staring into her immaculate eyes, he had thought that his feelings for Storm were merely that of friendship. They had been of a platonic nature. But had they?
As he gazed into her warm blue eyes, just inches away from her soft lips, his stomach did flips and twists, longing to be somehow closer to her. He felt her warm breath on his chilled face and shuddered as her eyelashes gently brushed his cheek. He wondered how on earth he had not seen it; he, who prided himself on being a master tracker, could not track the thoughts of his own mind. It had been so blatantly obvious over the years, if only he had not been so focused on Phoenix.
Phoenix, the ever-present, ever-intruding thought in his head. Surely what he had felt for her had been love? Surely she was the one for him. Except he had never felt anything like that moment for Phoenix, even after all of his years of infatuation, nothing had ever felt like this.
So, Wolverine was left with Storm. She was what his life was truly missing. She was the thing he had wanted all along. He tried to etch every aspect of the moment into his shitty memory. Her face, just inches from his, the quickly rising sun, the fact that his pants had become a little tighter. He swished his tongue around his mouth, attempting to get every last taste of her.
He instinctively reached to his jeans pocket for a pack of smokes, his hand trembling as he did so. The laminated surface slid easily out of the denim material and the top fell open in one swipe of his thumb. The minute he drew one out, however, he felt the disapproving gaze of Storm fall upon him.
"I'm not kissing you again if your mouth tastes like stale smoke." She said simply, with a matter-of-fact tone about her voice. She crossed her arms and gave him a look that said, I mean business, but didn't look as serious as she sounded.
His fingers rolled the small cylinder between them as he weighed his options. He really needed a smoke right then. It wasn't the same as someone who really was addicted to cigarettes, but it calmed his nerves and helped him focus a bit, even if only for a moment before his healing factor kicked in. Before he knew it, or even had time to really make a decision, his body seemed to act on autopilot. He grasped the pack in his fist and threw it as far as he could. Who was this vixen standing before him, and why did she have such power over him?
Wolverine tried his best to form a sentence, or anything the could tell the poor girl in front of him who was waiting for some sort of reaction, exactly how he felt. However, instead of words, a long string uhms and uhs fell from his mouth in one quick gasp. He had never felt so dumbfounded in his life. He tried once again to say something, but when he had no avail, he gave up and let his insticts kick in, which led him to kiss her again.