Chapter 23: Always
It was dark, but the snow had tapered off. The roads had already been plowed outside of the sleepy building, as the tires quietly rolled over the compacted snow to a stop in front of Kay’s darkened antique shop. The rumble of the Bronco growled and then sputtered out as Logan killed the engine, exhaling slowly as he did so, before he finally turned to look at Marie once more.
Her skin was pale and white in the black of night, dark hair disappearing behind her, the brown of her eyes opaque and indiscernible. Laura had fallen asleep some time ago, laying lengthwise across the small bench in the back, and because of this both Logan and Rogue had fallen into a comfortable silence of their own. But as the Bronco turned off the main highway, quietly rolling into a sleeping Hay River, Logan had grown steadily warier. He studied Marie closely now as she glanced up at the small two-story building in front of them, eyes taking in everything, and not for the first time on this trip north he wondered what she was truly thinking. He finally took his attention off of Marie and glanced at Laura once more, and Marie followed his gaze to the young girl still dozing in the back seat.
“Guess you have to wake her,” she murmured, through a small smile. Logan nodded, sighing a little as he muttered her name a bit louder than they had been speaking, and the girl’s eyes were already groggily blinking awake. Realizing the car had stopped, however, Laura sat up a bit more quickly. Taking in the sign of Kay’s darkened shop, she smiled widely.
“Home,” she whispered to herself, and Logan and Rogue couldn’t help but stare at each other once more.
--
Logan absently noted his hand was shaking as he went to unlock the door, glancing back slightly to both of the females waiting for him to do so. They had very little on them, Laura just a plastic bag that contained a few things they had bought her on the trip up, Logan the clothes on his back, and Marie an army duffle that contained everything she owned. Logan had not necessarily been surprised to discover that Rogue rarely stayed in one place for more than a few weeks, and so her belongings were a far cry from the piles of books and things she used to have with her, practically everything left behind in Westchester. Logan had smiled a bit when he saw the pack; it reminded him of Laughlin City, almost eerily so. As Logan fiddled with the keys, he also noted that Laura’s energy was returning to her, excited as she was to get inside. He opened the door then, and instantly the familiar smells of he and Laura enveloped them all as they trudged upstairs to the tiny apartment. As Logan opened up the second door, wearily dropping the keys on the kitchen counter, Laura sprang past them both and went inside, intent on her room and flopping down on her bed in an overjoyed exhaustion.
“It’s the same, papa!” she called out from her room and Marie smiled a bit as she looked to Logan, before they both glanced around the place. Logan was relieved to see that things weren’t terribly out of order, although a few things lay overturned from when Logan had raced back to the apartment, sniffing out clues upon realizing Laura had disappeared. Still though, most things were where Laura and Logan had left them that morning before they had made their way to the lake house that fateful afternoon, blatantly telling of what a quiet, lazy weekend it had been, but also even more reminiscent of the modest, small life Logan had tried to start for them both. His reading glasses were still sitting on the coffee table, unfolded, draped over a book he had been perusing that day on how to properly replace floorboards. His workman’s coat, the one Laura liked to wear in the mornings, still hung over the opposite chair. Two empty mugs still lay nestled in the sink. There were a couple of old, partially scratched DVDs of The Princess Bride and Lost Boys, borrowed from Kay’s, still stacked on the little player by the TV. And there was more: Laura’s house slippers that Logan had bought her in the hallway, a box of cigars on the TV stand, a couple of rainbow sparkle pencils in a cup on the kitchen counter, and, of course, Laura’s backpack still in the hallway, a couple of Canadian history worksheets partly rumpled but ultimately finished and sticking out of the open flap of her pack, ready for the school day on Monday that Laura had inevitably missed.
Slowly, Logan turned back to Rogue to get a read on her. She was staring intently, of all things, at the homework sticking out of the backpack. This graceful, strong woman, lean and poised, still adorned in her combat boots and her cargo jacket and braided hair, army duffle still slung over her shoulder. Marie, his Marie, here, in this crappy little apartment, staring at their things, now a part of a world that had been entirely and hopelessly devoid of the possibility of her mere days before. It was almost too much, he realized, her right now, the scent of this woman slowly filling this space. She was still hesitantly lingering near the entryway, he noted, her thumb brushing over the chipped paint of the door frame, and then he realized that neither of them had said anything yet, and he certainly hadn’t done anything to officially invite her in. Logan awkwardly cleared his throat, his nerves getting the better of him once more.
“Uh, I know it ain’t much, darlin’. It’s temporary, until I saved enough…” he mumbled.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered solemnly. Just as he was about to offer more in the way of explanation, however, Logan finally sensed Laura had come out to hover in the living room, quietly taking in the scene. The younger girl smiled at Rogue’s approval, and then Laura was striding across the living room, taking Rogue’s hand in hers, as Rogue’s boots creaked quietly under the floorboards, just as Logan’s always did, and something deep within Logan shifted slightly, settling.
“This way, Marie,” Laura was saying, and she was dragging Rogue now to her room. Logan stood back near the kitchen counter, a bit amused by this procession as Rogue shot him a guilty smile as they passed. Laura stopped dramatically in the doorway to her bedroom, though, and issued him a “Lo siento, papa. ¡Sólo niñas!” and then she was shutting the door behind them. Logan smirked a bit at Laura’s chess move, but as he heard Marie’s genuine gasp at all the books, he felt more inclined to share Rogue for the moment. He exhaled, stalking over to the fridge and thanking God to find a few longnecks in the back. He grabbed two, popping the tops off both. He set them on the coffee table, and put on a record from the modest and small collection he had started, Keely Smith tonight, and then settled into the chair in the living room, idly waiting for whatever plans Laura had for Marie to come to a close. It took longer than he thought, and for a long while, he simply listened to their conversation, the sweet murmurings of “I love this book” and “Did you know that Louisa May Alcott also wrote Jo’s Boys?” and “I think Jo really did love Teddy” on the air, mixing with slow swing music coming from the record player. He noticed that, after some time though, things from Laura’s room got quiet. He could hear Laura’s steady and even breath, and he could tell Marie was still awake. He waited, still, as his thoughts drifted.
He hadn’t talked to Marie about coming with them, or about moving in. She’d simply gone with him, as if it were plain and simple logic, a math problem they both inherently knew how to solve. Still though, as he noticed Marie’s bag by the door, everything she owned nestled away inside of it, he felt his heart lurch. There were some things that needed to be said, and soon. He needed to be clear. He needed to tell her out loud what he wanted, but also what she might be signing up for.
He sat there, nursing the beer in the dark living room, lost deep in thought, when he heard Laura’s door gently open and shut again. Finally, he looked up to find her lingering near the entrance of the living room, watching him from afar.
“Sorry. I waited a while before I thought it was ok to sneak out. I’m not sure if she slept the whole time they had her. We were talking about Little Women, and she just fell asleep on my shoulder, practically mid-sentence,” she said through a tired smile. “I didn’t know whether or not to take off her boots. They’re still on.”
Logan found his lips turning up into a smile as he shrugged his shoulders. “S’allright. Let her sleep. Kid’s been through a lot,” Logan muttered, before standing and walking over to Rogue, handing her the spare beer.
“Yeah, she has,” Marie muttered, staring back at the door to Laura’s little room before smiling as she took the Molson from Logan, sipping the beer, before setting it back down on the counter, fiddling slightly with the label.
“She likes you,” Logan offered, stating the truth simply. Marie looked up to him then, another quirk of her lips.
“You think?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah, I do,” he murmured. They stared at each other some more, which seemed to be the only thing they had been doing since they had reunited, and he realized they were wholly unsure of how to act yet, how to be around each other again. For years, countries had separated them, and it felt like lifetimes had passed.
“Logan, I-” she began, and then he was cutting her off.
“Can I stop ya for a second, kid?” he murmured, setting down the bottle again. She stared at him steadily, her eyes dark, her look verging on leery as she waited for his next words.
“Hell, darlin’. I’m sorry if I’m fucking this up. I just realized I never actually said...” he mumbled, glancing downward momentarily before this eyes slid upward to meet hers again. “You’ve got a place here, with us, if that’s something you want,” he muttered.
“Of course—” she was already saying, before she stopped, realizing he wasn’t done yet.
“But… you gotta know something, Marie,” he said, and he could tell she now didn’t want him to go on, didn’t want him to say it out loud, and yet he knew he had to, had to do it, if this was going to work, because he knew that eventually, they would have to both face it. “I don’t want ya to sign up for something that you might regret. Because… all of this,” Logan breathed, closing his eyes for a moment, before exhaling a bit angrily and opening them again. “You know it won’t last.”
She stared at him darkly now, a look of total and complete pain taking over her features, and Logan’s heart struggled to work.
“I wish...fuck. I’m such a greedy bastard, but… I wish there was more, that I had more to give you. God, you deserve so much more,” he stumbled over his words, voice shaking under the strain of what he was finally admitting to her, both knowing he wasn’t talking about the size of the apartment or the modest things Logan owned.
Finally, tears. They escaped and ran down her cheeks, and then he was moving closer to her and murmuring a “Hey, now,” and wiped the warm drops from her face with the pad of his thumb. She grabbed his hand then, gripping it tightly, and he instinctively pulled her close, and then she was melting into him, laying her head on his chest as he kissed the top of her head. They stood there like that, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes, clutching her tightly to him, as they slightly swayed to the mournful swoon of “I’ll Get By” on the record player, the floorboards still creaking underneath them, the sound of the heat kicking on once more.
“How long?” she finally, barely whispered. He sighed, the grip on her tightening just slightly.
“Don’t know, kid. Not yet though,” he whispered into her ear. A few more tears, a few granules of sand slipping through the hourglass, as he quietly shushed her, breathing in the scent of her hair, more unending moments of her heartbeat thudding against his chest. Finally, after some time, after the record had ended and had turned itself off, he felt his resolve slowly returning to him. It was too much right now, all of it. He couldn’t focus on what he knew he couldn’t fucking change. Even after all this time, it just didn’t make sense to do so. There would be more time, later. More time for that, all later.
“Enough of this,” he finally said, releasing her a little from his grip. “I didn’t even give you the whole tour yet,” he joked, and she laughed a little through tears, as she wiped her face. Then she was letting him lead her by the wrist into the other small room with the full bed, the blankets still made from the morning he had left. He ushered her inside, closing the door gently behind them both. He turned to see her shrouded in moonlight, gorgeous and mournful and waiting.
He strode over to her with a growl, the tension of the last several days flowing over them both, as he kissed her roughly with a strength he had been saving. He deepened the kiss even more so, his tongue running up against her own as he toyed with her bottom lip, and then they had turned around and he had pushed her up against the wall roughly. Her lips were now making contact with his neck, hands in his hair, and he growled a bit more, even as she was tugging off his shirt, undoing his belt. He shed her coat easily enough, yanked at her shirt, until she was only in a bra, and she was now kissing a hot trail down his stomach, lips lingering just above the cusp of his jeans.
“Hell, Marie,” he groaned as she toyed with him, and then, just from behind the wall farthest from them, the wall that neighbored Laura’s room, they heard a small sound. They both instinctively froze to listen, although Logan immediately realized Laura was only shifting in her sleep, her breath too deep and even for her to actually be awake. Marie glanced back guiltily over to Logan, and he found himself chuckling slightly in response.
“God. I feel like I’m sneaking around like a teenager. Is this what parents have to worry about? Making too much noise?” she whispered through a smile, and Logan’s lips turned upward slightly at Marie’s use of the word parents.
“Might need a bigger place eventually, baby,” he smirked and she smiled up at him. “She can hear well, although, tonight, I think we have a free pass. Kid hasn’t slept in four days. She’ll be out cold for hours,” he said through another smirk.
“Hours, huh?” Marie asked, cocking her brow mischievously as she regained a bit of her confidence.
“Hell, baby. I was trying to distract you from all that shit I said earlier, but I think you need to remember that I’m not—holy fucking god!” Logan practically shouted, because Marie had stripped him of his jeans and now was taking him all in her mouth, his body practically crumpling beneath her as he spun them both so he could lean partially against the wall.
“Fuck woman!” he growled, as he hit the back of her throat, and she released him momentarily to usher a teasing “shh” under her breath. He practically snarled at her, but then he was fucking helpless to her again. Her mouth was wet and hot, traveling up his length with her tongue more before taking him all the way in again, and he was muttering a steady stream of curse words under his breath.
It went on and on, and at some point he realized she wouldn’t stop unless he forced her to, and wanting in infinite measures to get her back, he growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and lifting her upward, carrying her over to the bed and easily throwing her down on it, even as she giggled slightly. He peeled off her jeans easily enough, wanting to drink her in, consume her in every possible way.
He roughly thumbed her nipples, and she stopped her giggling, as he took one in his mouth for a few moments, drawing it out only with his teeth, before he did the same to the other. She whimpered now in pleasure, before he was kissing his way down her body, again stopping for a moment to deliberately kiss one of Marie’s scars. And then he was down, bringing his mouth to hover just beyond her sweet wetness, breathing in deeply, her arousal thick and heavy in the air, flooding his mind like the fucking heroine it was.
“God, I’ve fucking missed you,” he muttered, before giving her a long, languid lick and she moaned softly, taking another breath. She grinned for a moment, before whispering coyly, “Do I taste the same, baby?” He friskily growled at her, and then took another long, deep lick, pausing for a moment to roll his tongue over her center, smirking as he heard her sharp intake of breath, and then he moved up her body once more.
“You tell me,” he said, and then proceeded to kiss her deeply, both of them sharing the taste of her, before he was moving to the nape of her neck, planting kisses there too.
“Logan…” she was murmuring again, just as he was about to make his way downward once more.
“Mmm?” he murmured into her ear. He noticed then she was breathing a bit heavily, and he could tell her heart was beating faster than it already was. She was nervous. Why?
“What is it?” he asked quietly, pulling away from her a bit. Her eyes were round and dark and full.
“What?” he asked again.
“Mark me,” she said darkly. He looked at her once, eyes encompassing her every angle.
“Break the fucking skin, baby. I wanna feel it, not just in the morning. Days afterwards.” He stiffened only the slightest at this, as he could feel the Wolverine growl deep down inside at the honesty of her words.
“I staked a claim over you a long time ago, kid,” he muttered, even as his mouth lingered over her jawline.
“Then let’s renew some fucking vows,” she mumbled. He smirked a bit at this, and she continued on. “Seriously baby. Do it. I need to…” she trailed off, as a clear honesty shown in every line of her face. “I need to know… this isn’t going away.” At that, he could feel his smile dampen, as once more their conversation before hovered over them.
“Everything ends, kid,” he murmured, lifting an arm from the bed and gently running a hand through her hair. Her eyes had glazed, but she didn’t cry. Instead, her resolve strengthened.
“But… like you said. Not yet,” her voice was fierce, volatile.
“No, not yet,” he murmured, through a small sigh. He didn’t like hurting her, even to mark her, especially not while he was so clear-headed, but he was also about ready to do anything for this woman. He’d set the fucking world on fire for her, if she asked for it.
“Break the skin, huh?” he whispered.
Marie nodded, looking at him intensely. “Hard,” she muttered.
“Have it your way,” he murmured, but he was still found himself shoving two fingers inside her with his spare hand, toying with her warmth, intent on distracting her slightly with pleasure.
“Hold onto somethin’ baby,” he growled, but her hands were already threaded in the sheets and she was already moaning as he bit down roughly, canines sinking into skin, that metal taste, the distinct signature of her blood blooming in his mouth, and she was writhing beneath him in a mixture of pain and pleasure even as he was already applying his tongue, licking at the wound, the animal purring at the sheer, primal nature of it all. And then he realized he was fucking dripping with need at the sight, as hard as he’d ever be, the way she was giving in to all of him making him seeing stars, making him understand that he had needed it, too.
“You ok?” he barely managed to breathe.
“Yes,” she hissed. He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her, fill her completely full with him until she screamed, but he once more got a grip on himself, intent on giving her what he had planned on. He moved lower, then, back down to her moist, wet heat, and he realized the bite had aroused her, as dripping wet as she was, and she was opening herself wider to him as he gently sucked at that bundle of nerves between her, biting down slightly, applying pressure with a good, long suck. Then she was moaning his name loudly, before her breath caught in her throat and he pulled up to see her whipping a hand to her mouth, and he grinned a bit, murmuring, “relax,” and then he was back at her, undoing her, relishing in her want and wetness, licking and swallowing her taste, and, then, after, taking his time to clean her, both of their bodies loose and fluid.
As he moved up her body once more she turned them, and then she was sliding down on him, encompassing him and taking him in slowly, too fucking slow, and she was moving, the moonlight highlighting every curve, an angel, a ghost, a fucking miracle, as her strong thighs gripped him and his hands clutched her tightly, intent on leaving bruises. He breathed out steadily, bearing down on what was left of his sanity, even as he sensed a cloying feeling rising within him. The animal wanted out.
He turned her sharply, even as a flickering sensation, a sense of back and forth, overtook him. He hadn’t let the animal loose in years, but he realized that whatever chain he had been looking for wasn’t there anymore, and he now understood that vying for or even relinquishing said control lay abandoned. He growled as he held her down, seating himself inside her fully once more, but even as he moved inside her, the man traced a thumb over one of Marie’s surgical scars, still concerned for her emotional wellbeing, while the Wolverine let out a primal rumble, angered by the idea someone had hurt her and he hadn’t been there to protect her. The man also distantly noticed, appreciated even, Marie in his room among his things, tangled up in his bedsheets, but then a soft moan escaped her lips and instinct had its grip on him once more as he moved faster, taking her hard, rough, hitting that place deep inside her again and again, while she tried to stifle a scream. Then her walls were clenching down on him hard, as she pulled them both over the edge, and even then, as he snarled as he filled her, hot and white and full, he could feel himself present, still conscious somehow, even as they were spent, breathing hard together, even as he nuzzled into her neck, licking at the blood left over from the bite where he had marked her, even as he whimpered softly as she traced a scar on his arm from a bullet, the wounded, tired animal in him content on giving her whatever she needed, whatever she fucking wished for.
“You still with me, baby?” she asked, unsure, or perhaps, sure, but wanting to make certain.
He growled a little, only barely able to nod his head slightly. And then, as the haze lifted and his clarity slowly returned, he murmured an “Always.” She smiled gently at him, her hand threaded in his hair as she softly stroked his temple, the warm aftershocks of coming insider her still rippling through him as he kissed her forehead roughly, before gently moving to her lips once more, feeling empty and full all at once. It was snowing softly outside again, but the click of the heat was coming on, and the world felt settled and tilted, sturdy and fragile, the unknown stretching out wild and terrible and beautiful, a starless sky, limitless and yet infinitely expanding around them both.
--
Four Months Later
As his eyes lazily blinked open, Logan was met with the early bright light of the lake house. It was the smell of pine trees, clean air, fresh paint. As his vision came into focus, he was met with the mostly empty room, a couple of the boxes they hadn’t unpacked yet stacked near the wall. Outside, he could hear dripping sounds, a telltale chorus of snow steadily beginning to melt, the beginning of spring almost upon them. It was the time before it really started, the time in between, and Logan found himself simply listening for a moment, relishing in the sound.
He grumbled contently before he turned over in bed to find the left side empty, however, the comforter rumpled and cool. He frowned a little, as he idly swiped a hand over the empty spot in the bed, when he heard more rustling in the kitchen. As the smell of bacon now overlaid the other scents, he thought momentarily that Marie must be cooking, but as another clank came from outside the door he realized it was probably Laura in the kitchen and not Marie, because Marie never made that much noise when she cooked. He smirked a little at this thought, yawning before getting up slowly, to stalk over to the bathroom attached to the master on the first floor. He ran some water through his hair, throwing on a t-shirt and sweat pants before padding out into the living room, to be greeted with Laura and her kitchen experiments to his right, and the living room and then the large bay windows opening up to the deck and the lake beyond to his left. He could see Marie sitting in one of the deck chairs, idly staring out at the lake. Logan was silent as he watched her watching the lake for a moment, before turning to face his daughter, still now determinedly stirring a giant bowl of pancake batter, although much of it had been slopped onto the polished wood of the kitchen counter.
“You made bacon?” he asked, attempting to sneak over to her side of the kitchen island to snag a piece
“Uh uh!” Laura scolded him, in a typical Rogue-like fashion. “Marie made it. You have to wait. And first!” Laura pointed to a little row of pills lined up on the edge of the counter, waiting for him. Logan rolled his eyes, but still dutifully swiped all of them off the counter, popping them into his mouth as Laura slid him a glass of water across the island, which he caught with ease, lifting it up to his lips to swallow them down. They had him on a steady course of maintenance drugs, mainly anti-inflammatory medication, nothing close to undoing what had been done, what was still happening, but drugs to help ease the severity of the worst of the symptoms, and they had helped made life, well, bearable. Logan’s stomach grumbled again, and he found himself frowning slightly as he turned to stare back out at Marie.
“¿Marie está bien?” he asked quietly.
“Si. Viendo la salida del sol.” Laura guestered with a spatula to the windows once more, to the mostly-risen sun. Logan sighed a bit, resigned to go check on Marie, but first turned back to Laura.
“Café con leche, hija. Para Marie,” he said, gesturing with his eyes back to the deck. Laura nodded and smiled, grabbing a spare mug and taking the coffee pot off the warmer, filling it up, before topping it off with a little half and half, and then intuitively grabbed another mug and filled it with black coffee for him. He smiled back at her, stalking over behind the counter to kiss her head, muttering a “gracias” as he did so. He picked up his coffee, and then he cocked one brow as he added, “Hey Laura. 84 divided by 6?”
“Easy,” she said, smiling widely, wiping a bit of flour from her cheek. “Fourteen.” Logan grinned at her, as he grabbed the weekly newspaper off the kitchen counter.
“Bien,” he murmured, taking a sip of his own coffee, tucking the newspaper under his arm and then picking up Marie’s mug and walking to the door that led outside.
“Te amo, daddy!” Laura shouted after him.
“Right back at ya, hija,” he shouted, before using his foot to push the already-cracked door open more to the deck, hands full as they were.
It was a cool morning, and a subtle mist had settled over the edge of the lake, indicative of the slow, stubborn onset of spring. The sky was filled with pink and orange and tinges of blue, and Logan realized why Marie had come outside. It was a beautiful morning. His gaze, though, hopelessly slid downward to the prettier sight in front of him. She had on silky pajama bottoms, a sheer top and her signature robe, but she was barefoot, and Logan found himself appreciating this particular detail. As he made his way up behind her, though, he also realized that she was clutching a pair of his reading glasses in her hands as she stared out at the lake.
“Trade you,” he murmured quietly, as she finally looked up to him gave him a small but genuine smile. Logan could tell her eyes were distant, deep in thought as she had been. He pressed the coffee mug into her hands, and she reluctantly handed over the glasses, which Logan flipped open, settling on his face. She smiled again at him, but he found himself still worrying about her, even as he took another sip of his coffee.
“Where were you?” he quietly asked.
“Sorry….” she said, coming back to herself a bit more. “For leaving you alone this morning, I mean. I didn’t want to miss it, and I didn’t want to wake you,” she said. Even though she answered a different version of the question than he had intended, perhaps purposefully so, Logan found himself quietly accepting the answer, as he took in a breath of the crisp northern air.
“Snow’s gonna finish melting soon,” he murmured.
“Really? Oh, god, I hope so,” she said, and he grinned a little through his mug at Marie’s ever-present contempt for the cold, even as she found herself living this close to the artic circle.
“What? You don’t like endless winter?” he asked through a widening smirk.
“Ah, no. Well, I guess if it’s with you, I do,” she said through another faint smile, before sighing, sitting up to stand. He whipped out in arm to help her to her feet, and her hand lingered on his afterward, even as she moved to slightly straighten the glasses on his face.
“Laura’s got pancakes in there,” he murmured.
“I know. I set her up to make them,” she said through a knowing grin and a sip of her coffee.
“Uhh,” Logan said, turning back to the window and the mess Laura was inevitably making, “I think she might need a little…help,” he smirked.
“You should have a little more faith, sugar,” Marie murmured.
“Ahh, I do. In you. And your cookin’,” he muttered, stealing a grab of her ass before she swatted him away, his lips still curled up into a smirk. “But she’s got too much of me in her,” he murmured, glancing back through the windows to where Laura was scooping way too much batter on to the skillet.
“Gotta practice to get better,” she said. “Besides it’s not like she’s gonna burn the house down,” Marie added, but as she glanced back at Laura as well and the fresh plume of unexplained smoke puffing up from the skillet, Marie’s eyes widened and she added through a grin, “Let’s go help her.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing around the kitchen counter, eating pancakes. Melted butter was sliding off the fluffy shortstacks as Laura’s sticky hands made a grab for the syrup once more. Logan, already noticing the pool of syrup Laura’s pancakes were currently swimming in, stopped her though, murmuring a “No way. Too much already.” Laura pretended to scowl at him, before offering him a sugary smile and taking another forkful of pancake and dunking it in some of the extra syrup off Logan’s plate. Logan turned to Marie exasperatedly, pointing silently at the girl, but Marie only shrugged her shoulders at him, smiling widely as she copied Laura’s move, dunking her own bite into the last of the extra syrup on his plate. Logan growled playfully at Marie, getting her back by leaning in quickly to kiss her neck, breathing in the lingering hints of maple and butter as she swallowed her bite and laughed a bit. Marie couldn’t seem to help herself as her lips brushed the side of his cheek in return, although Logan noticed she quickly leaned back once more, blushing and stealing a quick glance at Laura, only to find a wide grin on the girl’s lips, knowingly and sweetly staring back at them both.
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Chapter End Notes:
Welp, I just wanted to take a second to thank anyone who took any time out of their life to read and/or to offer their support in any way. That, my friends, means the world to me. I hope you got something out of reading this story, because I know I sure as hell got something out of writing it. In the end, I just wanted to say that I am so, so grateful to have found this ship and the community of readers and writers who dwell here. You’re very special people, and you’ e made this whole experience an amazing, inimitable one for me.
The future: Plans for a longer AU fic focusing on a younger Logan and Rogue (because I’m kinda tired of researching canon, lolz), plans for a shorter sequel to Fray, different in tone and structure but still following Logan and Rogue and Laura, and also plans for a couple of one shots, some set in the Fray universe and some not. I’m gonna take a short break from writing before I seriously start on any of these projects, however, just to go read some of the beautiful work on this archive. If you’d like regular updates of what I’m working on, though, feel free to join the Rogan party we’ve got going on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/englishmajor226. ;)
Well, that’s all from me for now. Thank you, again, for everything. Seriously. Y’all make the world a brighter, better place.
The future: Plans for a longer AU fic focusing on a younger Logan and Rogue (because I’m kinda tired of researching canon, lolz), plans for a shorter sequel to Fray, different in tone and structure but still following Logan and Rogue and Laura, and also plans for a couple of one shots, some set in the Fray universe and some not. I’m gonna take a short break from writing before I seriously start on any of these projects, however, just to go read some of the beautiful work on this archive. If you’d like regular updates of what I’m working on, though, feel free to join the Rogan party we’ve got going on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/englishmajor226. ;)
Well, that’s all from me for now. Thank you, again, for everything. Seriously. Y’all make the world a brighter, better place.