Chapter Three: Stormfront
The rain showed no signs of stopping, its rhythm against the mansion's windows a constant hum as the storm continued to swell. Faith sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, staring at the droplets streaking down the glass. Her hair was still damp from the downpour, a towel draped across her shoulders as she replayed the moment on the porch over and over in her mind.
Logan's kiss had been everything she hadn't allowed herself to want—unexpected, intense, and utterly disarming. It had left her both exhilarated and terrified. She exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into the towel as she fought to rein in her spiralling thoughts. The walls she'd spent years building around herself suddenly felt paper-thin.
A soft knock at the door startled her. For a moment, she debated not answering, but the familiar growl on the other side made her heart race. "Faith? You in there?"
She hesitated, then got up, opening the door to find Logan leaning against the frame. He'd changed into a dry shirt and jeans, but his hair was still damp, his expression unreadable.
"Can't sleep," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Figured you couldn't either."
Faith stepped aside, allowing him in. He moved with his usual deliberate ease, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there earlier. She shut the door and leaned against it, folding her arms. "What's on your mind?"
Logan turned to face her, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Then, with a sigh, he crossed the room, sitting on the edge of her bed. "What happened out there… I ain't sorry for it. But I need to know if you are."
Faith blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. She stepped closer, her arms dropping to her sides. "I'm not sorry," she said softly. "But I don't know what to do with it."
Logan nodded, as if he'd expected that answer. "You don't have to figure it out tonight," he said. "I just… I don't wanna mess this up. Us."
His vulnerability was rare, and it made her chest ache. She sat beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him but not quite touching. "You're not the only one afraid of screwing this up," she admitted. "But I'm tired of running from things that scare me."
Logan turned to her, his eyes searching hers. "Then we take it slow. Figure it out as we go."
Faith smiled faintly. "Slow. I think I can handle that."
The moment hung between them, quiet but charged. Then a sudden crack of lightning lit the room, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. Logan stood, moving to the window, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the stormy horizon.
"Something wrong?" Faith asked, standing to join him.
Logan's jaw tightened. "Storm's too strong. Doesn't feel natural."
Faith frowned, her own unease rising. She knew Logan's instincts were rarely wrong. Before she could respond, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them. They exchanged a glance before Faith crossed the room and opened it to find Ororo—Storm—standing there, her expression grim.
"You felt it too," Ororo said, her voice calm but edged with urgency. Her white hair was a stark contrast to the dark hallway behind her, and her presence brought with it an aura of authority.
Logan nodded. "What's goin' on?"
"The storm," Ororo replied, stepping into the room. "It's being manipulated. Someone's amplifying it—pushing it far beyond what I would normally expect. I need your help."
Faith's stomach sank. "Who could even do that?"
"That's what I intend to find out," Ororo said. Her sharp eyes flicked between them. "But if someone is interfering with the weather on this scale, it's not just the school at risk. This storm could devastate the entire region."
Logan's claws slid out with a familiar snikt. "Where do we start?"
Ororo gestured toward the window. "The epicenter is moving, heading toward the mountains to the north. I'll need your skills in tracking whoever's responsible. Faith, I'd like you to come as well. Your energy readings might help pinpoint their exact location."
Faith hesitated, her pulse quickening at the thought of plunging into the heart of the storm. But Logan's steady presence beside her gave her courage. She nodded. "I'm in."
"Good," Ororo said. "Gather what you need and meet me in the hangar in ten minutes. We'll take the Blackbird."
As Ororo left, Faith turned to Logan. "Guess slow will have to wait."
Logan smirked, his claws retracting as he reached for his jacket. "Figured it might. You ready for this?"
Faith grabbed her gloves from the nightstand, pulling them on with a decisive snap. "Let's find out."
The storm outside intensified, the wind howling like a living thing. But as they headed toward the hangar, Faith couldn't help but feel that whatever lay beneath its fury would test more than just their powers.