Note: thanx to Ratdogtwo! I was terrified that I was posting a boring story, and my first review saved me alot of worried sleep!

Chapter 5

Hatred...Fighting...Boiling blood in my Viens...Turning to my Enemy...Who?

I woke up in cold sweat, my nightmares once again terrifying, but I was once again unable to remember what I had just dreamt. I racked my brains, but the details of the nightmare were hazy, and all I could remember was an immense hatred and fury that had run through me, cutting my soul like a knife.

I checked the digital bedside clock that had been placed by my bed. 4:43 A.M. I laid back down, but like always, it was impossible to get back to sleep. I crept out of bed and went to the bureau. I brushed my hair, (with a lot of difficulty because the rolling around from the nightmare had knotted it beyond belief). I got dressed in my own clothes, because someone had been thoughtful enough to raid my apartment for my stuff.

Suddenly, I thought of something. I went to my duffel bag, and dug through the neatly packed clothes, electronics, and assorted trash I insisted on keeping until I found what I was looking for. I pulled them out, two perfect, slender but tough drumsticks. I loved these things, I'd had them since...since I could remember. The black paint was gone where my thumbs had rubbed against it, the hickory wood they were made out of was worn out, and the nylon tips had just about been pushed to their limit from beating against the old drum set I'd managed to get my hands on. But still, these were one of my most prized possesions, next to my ankle bracelet.

I stuffed them back into the bag and went back to the mirror. I tied my bandana around my hair again, and looked into the mirror anxiously. I'd decided to wear my least-worn-out pair of jeans and a blue shirt thats sleeves only went down halfway. I was starting to wonder if I might need to use my old tube of reddish purple lipstick that I'd bought because I'd realized guys usually would 'lend' money to a pretty, flirtatous girl. Then it hit me: I'd broken my promise to myself already. I scowled at myself, looking at the overdone girl in the mirror. No guy, I reminded myself, not even Logan, was going to make me turn into a make-up wearing girly girl. I felt my stomach give a quiver at the thought of him, sprawled out carelessly across the lobby bench, and felt disgusted at myself.

I waited until at least 5:45 to come out of my room, now completely sure I was Logan-proof. Nothing, not even his scent was going to set me off. Nothing. I headed toward the school's small kitchen to grab something to eat. I made a cup of coffee, strong and unsweetend, and breathed deeply. Mutant scent was all over this school. I tried to enjoy the mix of mutant and delicious coffee while I calmed down. I grabbed a stool by the island, and sat down.

Logan woke up with a start. He looked around wildly, trying to get his bearings, when he realized he was back in the same room that he always woke up in. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm down. Coffee? There was definitely coffee in the air. He glanced at the clock. It was six by now. He groaned and got up.

His head still ached from the nightmare, but the promise of coffee to help him get the fog out of his head was enticing. He stopped outside the kitchen, frozen. Amongst the wafting scent of fresh brewed coffee, he could smell the sensually attractive aroma coming from what was unmistakebly the mystery woman, who had gained a name in the last few hours: Adrian. He backed off, not wanting to attract any attention, but stopped himself. He was the Wolverine! What was he doing, being scared off by some woman who he hadn't even said two words to?

With a determination coming from pure bullheadedness, he marched into the kitchen. Sure enough, she was sitting on a stool sipping a mug of fresh coffee. She raised her eyes, unsurprised. Logan remembered. She could detect scents too. He grimaced inside his head. This was going to agitating, being detected so easily.

She raised a hand in a short hello, and returned to her coffee, uninterested. This was another thing that both confused and annoyed Logan; most women were swooning within sight of him, but Adrian seemed as though she didn't care if he was there or not. Logan couldn't figure out this woman, and that annoyed him even more. Resisting the erotic pull of her scent, though not that well, he quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and left before he did anything drastic.

As soon as Logan left, the masculine smell of his skin still wavering, Adrian practically fell off her chair. She'd done a well enough job pretending he was nothing, but that scent was really doing things to her. She could hardly stand it, sitting rigidly still while the body heat coursed off him in waves, sending the delicious scent of his bare skin with it.

She prayed he hadn't noticed her take leave of her act and fall over. She took some deep breaths, inhaling what was left of him in the air. Grasping the counter for support, she remembered her promise to herself. A nagging voice in her head reminded her:

I'm not letting anyone besides myself rule me.

Feeling overwhelmed by Logan and the not-so-innocent wants in her mind right now, she smiled smugly and shot back at the voice:

"Damn my promise."

That seemed to shut up the voice for good.