Everyone knew she was in love with him. She would run to the nearest window at the sound of a motorcycle roar, blushing when she realized it was just a student showing off a new present from their folks. At dinner she would poke at her food with dreams in her eyes, thinking and wanting him and everything he was. Her blonde streaks were separated from her hair when she wore it up. Her bangs left down in an unusual tribute to him. At nights when no one was looking, she would sneak into his room and lay sobbing in his bed until she fell asleep, tangled in the cotton that smelled so strongly of him. She incorporated long white socks into her wardrobe. They were his of course, left behind in the rush to leave the mansion. Then there were the dog tags, hanging inconspicuously and tumbling down her chest. The chains lay silently on her pale skin, making their presence known only when she moved with a chick and clank. A new student had once asked about them, quickly hushed with the explanation- they're his, as if that was enough.
Months after he'd gone, they grew used to the chinking and the socks. They no longer found it weird that she slept in his bed or that almost every night, she ran to the window.
For her part, time went by. She heard each roar less and less until finally she stopped running. Her streaks were thrown up sloppily with the rest of her hair and the socks had become so threadbare three toes stuck out. His bed took on her scent and she no longer cried into his pillows.
As for the dog tags, well they were still clinging against her chest. They were the single thing that always linked her to him.
A year went by and everyone thought the Wolverine had been forgotten. She started dating, a lot in fact. Her average relationship lasted about two weeks before she cut it off, saying no physical contact was required until after that long.
Bobby came along sometime between number six and seven. She never really considered him until he presented her with a dozen roses between her calculus class and lunch. Even as she dated him, she swore she was going to keep her two week rule. The fourteenth day rolled around, they were sitting on the couch where every Rogue-breakup happened. Instead, the couple was playing thumb wars, inching closer for a long awaited kiss.
A motorcycle roars outside and she's up, doing something she hasn't done in months. This was different- she knew it was him. She ran to the door, breathing hard and staring, mostly because he was there doing the same thing.
Everyone flooded into the hall and hid behind statues, in classrooms with cracked doors and crowded on the stairs. This was the moment they've waited for. Word got around, Logan's back. Everyone knew what that meant. Within just a few seconds, the great hall was flooded with students.
A giddy happiness flooded Rogue as she flew at him, curling her arms around him in a lock she wasn't letting go of anytime soon. He wasn't prying her off anyway. There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room. She was willingly touching someone after weeks of hiding behind scarves and gloves. Bobby saw this and moved to be acknowledged. Wolverine grinned and shook his hand, smiling even more at the feeble attempt to freeze his hand of metal.
In this exchange, it was evident that Rogue belonged to Wolverine. He was just letting Bobby borrow her for a while until she grew up. Wolverine took in every curve, every smile and every giggle- he could wait as long as it took.
One week later, the raging teen hormones were sent on yet another whirlwind adventure between the infamous couple. The older students had snuck out one of Scott's older bikes from the garage. They were spending the day kicking up dust circles in the backwoods. With no leather, no supervision and no experience, it was bound to end badly (they were teenagers after all). In three seconds flat, the cycle bucked and sent its rider, you guessed it, Rogue, sprawling into the forgotten barb wire fence that outlined the property. Rogue had already lost a large amount of blood before one of them ran to go find a teacher.
Two came running, the math teacher and the French professor. Neither of them was dumb, they both knew what her skin could do. The blood that spilled from her gash was toxic and began killing the grass she was sprawled on top of. The math teacher screamed for someone to go find Dr. Jean. The French professor knew better, she demanded someone go find him. No one needed to ask who he was.
They both came running. Jean stopped when she saw the patched of dead grass clutching to the bleeding girl. He prowled through, ignoring Jean's grip on his arm. He didn't care about the risks, he didn't have to. He was going to save her.
He bent next to her and ran a gloved hand through her hair. She became aware of just how close he was and shifted so she was pressed up against him. She gripped his jacket, squeezing the pain into his bomber. For a few seconds, the Wolverine let down his façade. She whimpered. He growled. He unsheathed his claws, tearing her pants to reveal a gash that had spread from mid calf to high thigh.
"It hurts so much Logan," she stated through gritted teeth.
"I know darlin', I know."
He took off his glove and pressed his hand to her face, wiping the few tears from her face.
Silence roared as bare skin met bare skin.
The gash healed quickly and Logan pulled away as soon as the final bit sealed. He fumbled at getting up yet refused all attempts of help. He was weak yet determined to get Rogue away from the people who watched the events like she was a freak show. Bending down, he picked up his glove and the girl beside it and walked to the mansion, barring teeth at Bobby. It was obvious Wolverine blamed him for this.
That night, Rogue slept in Wolverine's bed yet again. Logan sat in a chair beside her. The door was left open so no questionable thoughts could dwell on the minds of the nosy residents.
The next morning, Rogue found Bobby on the couch watching T.V. She broke up with him.
She was only a week late.
~End.
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Story Notes:
First one, just getting a feel for all of them. (Am I doing this right?)