Wandering through the maternity section of a store with Logan is sort of like shopping with an eight year old. He’d sort of look at something, inspect my reaction to it and then try to say something I’d agree with. Although I noticed he actively avoided pink, either because it might burn his skin or because he know’s I’d never touch the stuff. Only two months along now, I wasn’t showing in the slightest. “Logan, come on, this is silly.”
He ignored me entirely, picking up a navy blue shirt with light blue horizontal stripes. “How ‘bout this one?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Stripes make people look fat.”
“You’re gonna have a tough time findin’ somethin’ that doesn’t,” he paused “chere” He added in a depressingly horrible attempt at a Cajun accent. I try not to acknowledge him. “Where’s lover boy anyways.”
He set down the shirt and wandered over to another blouse while I felt the material of a simple black shirt. “Probably still with Jubilee.” I mutter. “Getting comforted.” I pick up a pair of jeans and hold them up, knowing they look to big but still wondering if I’d ever fit into them. “I’m going to be the fat mom and he’s around sleeping with twenty one year olds. There’s no justice.”
Logan looked down at the ground to hide his grin. “C’mon. He’s not actually…” He paused and looked at me to gage my reaction, and a light sparked in his eyes. “Him and Jubes? When?”
I shrugged as though I didn’t care. “Could have been the same night as us for all I know.” The words were out before I could stop them, and there I was looking down at the ground while Logan cleared his throat shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Point being. I don’t even know if it was just the once for them.”
Logan was silent a while, so I grabbed more clothes to try on till I was loaded. “What did he say,” Logan hesitated. “Bout us, I mean.”
I spoke calm and collected. “He told me about Jubilee.”
His brow furrowed. “Never pictured him to be okay with sharin.’”
“Logan!” I smacked him with a hanger, he got a small amused smile on his face. “It’s not sharing. It happened once, end of story.”
Logan smirked. “No kid,” He picked up a sweater and tossed it into my arms. “I spend time with you when he’s not around, and he get’s you when I’m not around.” He winked, making my blood heat. “That’s sharing.”
Nausea raised in my stomach making me want nothing more than to lay down considering how exhausted I was. Problem was, I was worried Logan was right, and I wasn’t comfortable being the chew toy that exchanges owners now and then. So that was that. I must have had a rather interesting expression on my face because a moment later Logan muttered. “Not that you’re property or anything.”
I smiled to myself as I watched him saunter through racks of clothing. “You don’t have to do this you know.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m your friend first, kid.” He said, his voice little more than a low growl. “I’d be here even without the… y’know. Mix up.” I felt my face flush with his eyes on me again, making me instantly glance away only to notice the sales clerk a small distance away watching us. He noticed and spoke up. “Don’t worry. Probably thinks I’m your father or something.”
At that I had to laugh. “My father?” I choked out between giggles. “Logan, how old do you think you are?”
He only seemed amused by my reaction, so he shook his head and looked at the ground. “Old enough to deserve the looks she’s giving me.”
I rolled my eyes at him, unable to think of even one way to make him feel better. Wearing that silly motorcycle jacket, ripped and over worn jeans, and the plaid didn’t help much on top of the usual scruff of his stubble and the messy hair. If he knew how I viewed him though, the man would have enough ego to last him into the next century. Hell, he might even explode.
I walked over till I was beside him, and I could tell he was trying not to look at me. “Hey,” I murmured softly. “You’re not too old for me. So quit acting like that.” A look I’d never seen on his face flashed across just then, one I wasn’t sure I was even ready to see or describe. Soft, pained, unsure even. I felt his hand grip my one free one with a quick squeeze before he let go like it had never even happened.
***
When Logan and I got home with a few shopping bags and one particular baby shirt I tried to convince him not to buy. Remy was sitting on the couch staring at the fire with a drink in his hand when he stopped me.
“Chere.” He called quietly.
Logan took the bags from me with a small growl that he’d take them to my room. “Yeah?”
“Can we talk?” I nodded, not wanting to say anything, just wanting to fade into the darkness so that I didn’t have to do this. “How was your day?” He asked, faintly.
“It was good, Logan and I went shopping, grabbed me a bunch of fat clothes.” I said, trying to keep things light sitting next to him. Trying to ignore the scent of scotch on his breath.
Remy nodded slowly, and then made eye contact with me for the first time. “Rem’ thinks it’s best I move out for de while. We can both take time. I just,” he paused, looking at me again. “I don’ think I can handle de wolverine anymore.”
I stared at his drink, which in any normal situation I would have taken, and gulped down by now. Instead I just swallowed, and took a deep breath. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Jus for now chere,” He tried to console. “Jus till we… know.” He reached out to tough me but I was already standing.
“Where are you moving Rem.” I hissed, my temper flaming. “Who are you moving in with.” I couldn’t muster up enough to make it sound like a question. Not when I already knew who. My jaw tensed, and I felt my skin tingling, the way it does when it wants to take really bad. When it wants to absorb. When it wants to kill.
“Jubilee, just for a while. But it’s not what you think chere, I—”
“Call me chere one more time.” I growled, standing firmly with my fists clenched. “Try. I dare you.”
“Rogue,” He murmured “Please…” I had wound up and punched him in the face before I could even think. Which doesn’t happen to me. I’m not a randomly violent person, but I was being dragged away from a Cajun with a bloody nose within the second, and I recognized the muscular arms around me, despite how gentle they were currently.
I ripped myself from his arms and trudged away without looking back, I made my way up the stairs ignoring all the eyes that were watching me on this pathetic walk back to my bedroom. I fell face first onto my bed with my face in a pillow for barely a minute before my door opened. I didn’t bother saying anything for a minute, because I knew who it was. The weight of him sitting on the bed next to me was even recognizable. An adamantium skeleton isn’t exactly light.
He didn’t say anything either, but he was fiddling with something, distracting me. When I looked up he wasn’t looking at me, he was pulling that ridiculous baby shirt out of the bag. “It’s not that clever you know.” I grumbled into my pillow. He smiled, holding it up in his Logan way, so amused by something that was just ironic alone.
“Back off, I’ve got claws?” He chuckled. “It’s hilarious. Come on.” I rolled my eyes. “Toldja gumbo wasn’t one for sharing.”
“Gumbo ain’t one for being faithful neither.” I hiss. “In fact Marie thinks it’s best that Remy is out of the picture for a while.” I couldn’t help but mock the way he spoke in the third person. “Marie is going to be really happy and really fat and couldn’t care less what he’s doing with younger thinner women.”
“Logan’s happy for Marie.” He leaned back against my headboard. He looked around the room briefly. “So all that artwork was his, huh?”
I force myself to sit up. “It wasn’t artwork. It was dogs playing poker and a map of New Orleans that he probably stole. I hated both.” Silence followed. Neither of us said anything for a long time. Just sat, staring at the wall hoping for something to happen that would make all of this make sense. Something that would explain how my life turned into this catastrophic thing.
I sighed. “Do you think it’s because I wouldn’t marry him?”
He shrugged. “Don’t make me your girlfriend, Marie.” He took a sip of a beer I didn’t notice he had. “I’m here for you, but if you want some gal to complain bout men with ya, I won’t be much help.” I leaned against his shoulder.
“Okay,” I whispered.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I haven't worked on this story for a long time, had some recent inspiration.
Chapter End Notes:
I'd really appreciate a comment.