“You’re dead, you’re so dead.”
“You’re dead.” Rogue giggled as Bobby used their thumb wrestling shenanigans to slowly draw her closer to him, their eyes meeting. Bobby’s darted back and forth between her lips and Marie held her breath as he tilted his curly blonde head ever so slightly. She slammed on the brakes just before...
“I don’t want to hurt you.” she murmured, the words playful, but the meaning was not.
He shrugged with all the false bravado of a teenage boy. He leaned in and lowered his voice.
“I’m not afraid.” he whispered, wrong head at the wheel. Risk be damned.
The snarl of a Harley engine growled from the mansion’s drive. Rogue jerked her mahogany silver streaked head back, Bobby forgotten, completely missing the irritated disappointment written plain as day on the boy's face. Her face split into a wide grin as she lit up like a live wire and sprinted for the door. Bobby grit his teeth.
She heard his full and masculine laugh as she flew into his arms like it was Christmas in July.
“Ya miss me, kid?” he quipped, trying to reign in his on wolfish grin. Wouldn’t do for his reputation.
She pretended to mull it over, letting him dangle.
“Mmm, not really.” but that smile, the one that belonged to him, never dimmed for a second.
“Hmmm.” he gave it right back.
Logan splashed cool water on his face and ran his big damp hands through his fierce bed head, as tame as he ever got, and roughly dried them before thrusting the towel aside. All restless, agitated, energy. He turned and rested them on his danger lines, drawing in a deep ragged breath, the stray drops on his wide chiseled chest glistening in the light, chops twitching.
Was he doin’ the right thing here? Hell, did he even know what that meant? He’d always gone out of his way to avoid stupid things like moral dilemmas. One of the perks of being feral. He relied on his instincts. Which had been at war since the day he’d met Rogue. Things hadn’t changed much since.
He whipped his unruly head around and froze, dark brows drawn deep in concentration. Soft footfalls. And the light fluttering of an erratic pulse. Like a hummingbird. Quick, shallow breaths and then nothing at all as the sound of footsteps ceased. The air was so thick with tension Logan’s muscles were wound tighter than steel cables. The faintest scent drifted on the air conditioning. His nostrils flared, not daring to believe. For the first time, not sure that he wanted to.
He was acutely aware of the gentle sound of rustling fabric, and went utterly still in the way that only a predator could. Sharp gold flecked eyes locked on the door as he relied on his heightened senses to paint him a picture of what lay on the other side. Unsure whether or not it was a pretty one.
She sighed, barely audible over the thundering in his chest, the one part of him that had always refused to obey his demands in her presence, and he grit his teeth against the urge to fling the door aside and let her wreak all the havoc on him she wanted. He deserved it. It was all his fault. In so many ways.
Maybe Wheels was right. Maybe the best thing for her was for him to stay as far away from her as mutantly possible. He heard a soft thump against the door right where her head would be. To hell with it. That was where he was headed anyways.
He closed the distance between them at a record pace and swung the door wide to reveal...
Storm? Blocking Marie's hasty retreat down the hallway.
"Logan, I wanted to talk to you about what happened in the Danger Room session yesterday, before we head down there. ...Logan? Is something wrong? ...Are you leaving?" her inquisitive brown eyes fell on his lumpy duffel bag sitting amongst the apparent war zone. But that's what love was, right? A battlefield.
Logan dodged Storm's bright spikey white head as what she said swung Marie's around and their eyes met. Something dark and wounded flashed in those innocent looking eyes. She clutched his leather jacket to her chest. And turned around and ran.
Sounded about right. His love was a nightmare.