I am not the kind of girl
Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasionr
But you are not the kind of boy
Who should be marrying the wrong girl
I sneak in and see your friends, and her snotty little family
All dressed in pastel
And she is yelling at a bridesmaid,
somewhere back inside a room
Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry
Logan rubbed his palms together nervously, leather jacket squeaking in the half-quiet church. Barely ten feet from him, Storm and Hank sat in the family pews, holding hands. The weather-witch was covered from head to toe in some pastel concoction that reminded him of one of those fruity drinks Marie liked to get from O’Cools.
Nightfuzz, or Nightcrawler, Kurt – hell, whatever his name was – was shuffling about the front of the church, tail twitching as he straightened his glossy robes, then placed a white leather bound Bible on the podium behind him. Candles were flickering in the dim light of the church, stained glass windows casting multi-colored patterns across the deep burgundy, plush carpet his feet.
Keen ears picked up the grating sound of Remy LeBeau’s voice chastising one of the groomsmen, who had clumsily dropped a pile of ribbon adorned programs covered in calligraphy. One of those balls of tight, suppressed emotion welled up in Logan’s throat, and his hands clenched until his knuckles turned white.
Two doors down he heard a familiar laugh, and that ball of emotion rushed out of him in one silent prayer of desperation.
“Please,” he murmured, one hand clenched tightly around a small velvet box, as he attempted to fade into the cold brick wall behind his back.
This is surely not what you thought it would be
I lose myself in a daydream where I stand and say
Don’t say yes, run away now
I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door
Don’t wait or say a single vow
You need to hear me out and they said speak now
Excited exclamations accompanied the sounds of footsteps, guests pouring in to the small church until it was packed to the brim with mutants. In the back pews, the younger students from the school swung their feet back and forth, excited to be at the wedding of their favorite teacher.
Carefully placing the box into his jacket pocket, Logan unfolded the crumpled piece of vellum paper in his hands, teeth bared at the word vomit embossed across the surface.
D’Ancanto & Le’Beau.
Just then, the pipe organ at the back of the church blared to life, wheezing majestically into the first few bars of a wedding march. An ache shot through Logan’s heart as accurate as any bullet. Skin pressed tightly into the brick, he attempted to be as inconspicuous as possible Bobby Drake and Colossus swept Jubilee and Kitty down the aisle, the four taking their places on either side of Kurt.
A crescendo in the music welcomed Remy, who pranced down the aisle like the cat who got the canary, a smarmy grin plastered on his face. He turned, long hair hanging greasy down the back of his neck, slicked back with something that smelled god awful. Like he took a bath in Ax, or another horrendous cologne alternative.
Fun gestures are exchanged
And the organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death march
And I am hiding in the curtains
It seems that I was uninvited by your lovely bride-to-be
Logan froze as the music changed to the soft notes of Pachebel’s Canon in D, a four-piece orchestra singing in harmony with the organ, which had taken the initiative in the round. Soft gasps floated through the church as the crowd rose in unison for the girl haloed by the light pouring in from the church door.
Brunette waves had been pulled into a side ponytail, cascading down and around her shoulder, streaked by two interwoven strands of platinum. The white gown hung diaphanous, layers of soft satin beaded with fine freshwater pearls and crystals flaring out subtly at the hips, sweeping down to swish gently against the hardwood flood.
Logan’s breath caught in his throat.
She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen
But I know you wish it was me, you wish it was me
Don’t you?
Don’t say yes, run away now
I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door
Don’t wait or say a single vow
You need to hear me out and they said speak now
Don’t say yes, run away now
I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the backdoor
Don’t wait or say a single vow
Your time is running out and they said speak now
Hank left his seat next to Ororo to stand and grasp Marie’s hand tightly in his own.
“Who gives this woman to be wed?” Kurt asked, enunciating carefully around the double-us.
“I do,” Hank said firmly, then lifted Marie’s veil. Beaming with happiness, he leaned in to kiss her cheek.
There was a slight tremble in Marie’s hands as she reached for Remy, whose firm grip made her gasp so slightly that only Logan heard the sound. He held back a growl.
The ceremony was short and brief, and Logan desperately waited for his chance, that last moment, the opportunity to fix everything.
And then, Kurt spoke.
“If anyone has any reason why these two before us should not be bound by holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
And Logan stepped forward, parting the curtains, to stand awkwardly at the side of the church. He cleared his throat, choking on a lump of impropriety that suddenly lodged itself somewhere between his voice box and his tongue. Wide, white rimmed eyes stared back at him from every pew, and Remy’s freakish demon-red orbs locked on to him, narrowed and cruel.
“Logan?” Marie asked, yanking one of her hands out of Remy’s tight, white knuckled grip, turning to face the feral, dressed in jeans and a white Hanes t-shirt, a little smear of motorcycle grease on his breast pocket.
“Look,” he started, then cleared his throat again after his voice came out several octaves higher than usual, “I’m not the type of guy who should be rudely barging in on white-veil occasions.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“But you are not the type of girl, who should be marrying the wrong boy.” At this, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the tiny velvet box, and popped it open with an audible snap.
Gasps from the crowd. The diamond inside twinkled merrily in the candle light. Kitty phased half-in, half-out of sight, staring warily at an angry Remy, who was flipping a card between his finger tips.
“So, don’t say yes. Let’s run away now. Just, darlin’, I know I messed things up, but... not him. Don’t marry him, Marie please... Just give me one more chance.”
Dead silence met his impassioned plea, the woman it was addressed to staring at him like he had grown a second head. Logan turned on heel, dropped his crumpled program and the ring box, which snapped closed, and walked out the door.
I hear the preacher say speak now or forever hold your peace
There’s the silence, there’s my last chance
I stand up with shaking hands, all eyes on me
Horrified looks from everyone in the room
But I’m only looking at you
I am not the kind of girl
Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion
But you are not the kind of boy
Who should be marrying the wrong girl
Don’t say yes, run away now
I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door
Don’t wait or say a single vow
You need to hear me out and they said speak now
His bike was parked in the trees, hidden behind a bush. He stormed towards it, throwing one combat foot clad leg over to straddle it as he lifted the kickstand and started the engine. He let the throttle out and began to edge forward, only to slam on brakes at the sight of the white-clad woman standing directly in front of his bike, eyes furiously glaring at him.
“Of all the dumbass, inconsiderate, ridiculous things you have ever said to me, Logan!” she hissed, emphasizing each word with a thrust of her bouquet in his direction. She froze, bosom heaving attractively in the bodice of her gown, and stepped forward to grab the handles of the motorcycle from the other side.
Logan let the engine die, staring at her fingers caressing his gently, looking at the diamond that was not Remy’s but his, her right hand coming to tilt his chin up so that his somewhat watery eyes met hers.
“That was the sweetest of them all,” Marie suddenly had tears running down her cheeks, make up smearing like raccoon eyes as she through her arms around his neck, almost knocking the bike completely over.
“So I have a proposition for you,” she managed to hoarsely whisper in between tears and hiccoughs, “Let’s run away now. I’m so glad you were around when Kurt said ‘speak now’.”
And you say lets run away now
I’ll meet when I’m out of my tux at the backdoor
Baby I didn’t say my vows, so glad you were around
When they said ‘Speak now’
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Songfic using Taylor Swift's new song "Speak Now" the song is from the girl's point of view, but the story is from Logan's point of view. Enjoy!