“Aren’t we prickly?” Eve raised her eyebrows at him, but it wasn’t the worst thing she’d heard by far.“Yes, I can grasp the concept of food being food. I just prefer good food. You wouldn’t understand, you don’t look like the type who likes the finer things in life.”
As the bartender busied himself with her drink, Jean took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. It was almost exactly as she imagined a bar to be. But there wasn’t much time to look. He had already finish her order and she quickly turned to receive it. Jean’s eyes first caught sight of the beverage and she carefully wrapped her hands around it. Green orbs then raised up to meet and thank the man, but the words died in her throat.
She sat there dumbly, frozen in spot for a good ten seconds before blinking back from her daze. “Thanks.” She mumbled awkwardly, feeling her face heat up a little, and took a sip from her drink. Oh god does that taste far from how it looks. Taking her time to down it all, she began to feel more relaxed, and although it burned slightly, her body eased and the noise grew a bit more quieter to her . Jean couldn’t help but smile, and she responded by lifting her glass up to him for a refill.
logan's eyes darted towards the woman for a brief second, and he noticed how oddly she was looking at him. his brows furrowed, as if using his facial expression to ask her if something was wrong. but as her eyes stayed on him, he couldn't help but ask.
' ya alright there, RED? '
she seemed to have snapped back as she let one word escape her lips, but logan could sense that she was feeling tense. must've really been a bad day.
' ya don't drink often, do ya? anyway, look LADY, if ya don't feel like tellin' me about yer crappy day, THEN DON'T. i ain't forcin' ya to do anythin', sweetheart. but the offer's still on the table, i've listened to a bunch of fuckin' sad stories from sappy customers before. '
he looked back at her, trying to not look too intimidating or scary as he took the glass from her and filled it with bourbon, before handing it back to her. he noticed that this time, she had a smile on her face. she seemed like a nice gal, after all.
' guessin' yer not too comfortable with strangers, eh? name's LOGAN. '
She gave a dry snort at the nickname but nodded pitifully. “I’d like to. But I don’t wanna be sober when I do.” So lifting her head up, eyes still looking down, she ordered, “Give me a bourbon, neat.” and added politely, “Please.”
logan turned his back to the woman and grabbed a glass and a bottle from the shelf. he cocked a brow when heard the woman say ‘please’, which wasn’t something his customers usually said. he handed her drink over and leaned in slightly closer.
With no memory of his past life, Logan lived fifteen years as a lumberjack with metal claws. The people who know him sees him as a violent man, with no regard for anyone else and terrible anger management issues. He spent years trying to figure out who he really was and what happened to him in the past. This loss of identity turned Logan into a broody man with no desire to socialize and connect with other people, unless they had the ability to help him out. When he heard about all the fuss concerning mutants, he knew he was one of them and this only fueled his desire to learn about his origins.
Logan left his job and moved to New York, where there has been an uprising of mutants who are willing to fight for their freedom. Despite not having any interest in joining their cause (he prefers to remain uninvolved), he constantly attends thei rallies in hopes of finding someone who could help him. In the meantime, as he has not found that certain mutant yet, he took a job at a pub as a bartender, but also participates in underground cage fights for extra cash (and to vent out his anger).
“Now, I could feed you some very long winded line about the reason your
eyes are as stunning as they are is because of a mutation in the OCA2 gene -
which I might add is a very g r o o v y mutation - or you could allow me to buy
you a drink?”
logan overheard the man speaking from the
other side of the counter and couldn’t help
but turn to see who it was. he snorted at the
way he was flirting, a little too science-y than
most. what a nerd, he thought.
Jean approached Cerebro with purpose. Her steps were hurried and when her fingertips reached the helmet she temporarily halted. Thoughts of the consequences of what she was about to do whirled through her mind and began to instill doubt, telling her to abort it all, but the redhead shook her head and took a deep breath. Logan was a good friend and her worry for him was logical enough, and even if things had become bumpy between them, it didn’t excuse the fact that she still cared for him—in a totally platonic, non-romantic sense, of course.
So carefully, she picked up the helmet and placed it on her head. She closed her eyes and took in another deep breath. Charles didn’t know of what she was doing and the idea of using Cerebro all secretively even without telling Scott gave Jean a sense of rebellion she had never aquainted herself to before. It brewed excitement and her heart began to pound harder as she concentrated on searching for Logan.
It took quite a bit of effort but in the end she found him in a pub with a glass of alcohol by his side. Curiously, she gave a brief scan of the room. This was the sort of place that made her feel chills. The men looked intimidating and ready for a fight while the women were all dolled up and practically displaying themselves around.
Jean glanced at Logan and saw him staring thoughtfully at something. She followed his eyes and corrected herself. Someone. And a beautiful someone at that, who coincidentally enough, had red hair as well. Her eyes started between the man and the woman and she felt her stomach twist. “So you’ve got a thing for redhead’s.” Jean said flatly, giving herself a more solid form that only Logan could see and be able to hear. She stood just a few spaces behind him and titled her head to the side. Her eyes were locked on the other woman. “That would actually make a lot of sense. But I gotta tell you though, I don’t think that’s her real hair color.”
Logan mentally argued with himself and he was reminded how long it has been since he'd gotten some action. Well, the last time he didn't really get to do much. yet it was the most memorable for him despite it ending quite badly. His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere, he heard a woman's voice. And a very familiar one, at that. In shock, he turned his head yet his claws did not pop out of his knuckles despite his reflexes due to the odd feeling that the woman behind him was harmless. His eyes fell on Jean, right behind him and he inevitably grew confused. "Jeannie?" He asked the mental image of the redhead which he thought was real.
He tried thinking of how it could be possible that she was there. She couldn't have snuck up on him that easily, he would've recognized her scent right away, and yet even as of the moment, he still couldn't smell her naturally sweet scent in the pub. Am I hallucinating? "This beer is startin' t' get t' me. Never thought I'd ever get drunk. 'Specially not drunk 'nough t' start hallucinatin'." He murmured before turning back and ordering another shot.
But just then did Jean's words sink in. "No, I've got a thing for a redhead. Jus' one." He corrected quietly, not wanting to draw attention to him talking to what he thought was an alcohol-induced hallucination. "Sure would be the right choice, huh? To sleep with someone else and jus' get over Jeannie. But it ain't gon' be that easy. I didn't jus' want to get in her pants. Well, at first I did. Then I spent more time with her, I realized she wasn't the kinda girl who ya can just have a one night stand with. She's a keeper." He explained, before turning his gaze back to Jean.
His eyes wandered over her, from head to toe as he tried his best to memorize his features, thinking that he wouldn't be seeing her anytime soon. "Still as beautiful as always." Logan whispered soft enough that only he could hear, and for one second he forgot about Jean being with Scott, and he imagined how different things would be if she chose him. He snapped back from his thoughts and heard her speak. "...Someone's jealous." He teased with a sad smile.
After hours of walking, Logan stopped by a pub to wind off despite wanting to get to his destination sooner. As he entered, he took a seat by the counter and ordered a drink. He thought he needed a bit of a buzz if he’s going to try and go about his quest without torturing himself with the thought of Jean and Scott doing romantic stuff in the mansion while he tirelessly continues with his journey. About to drink the contents of the glass placed in front of him, he turned his head and noticed a woman playing pool. Red hair, green eyes, a smirk on her face as she watched her opponent miss the ball. She reminded him of Jean, appearance-wise.
A part of Logan whispered, “Hit on her. I bet she’d be all over ya.” He considered it. The woman looked oddly alike Jean. And since Jean was already taken, he thought that this one could be a pretty good option. But he shook it off and swallowed his drink, feeling the tingling sensation move from his tongue down to his throat. I don’t want no other. I want the real deal. I want Jean. It’s her, or nothin’. He thought to himself.
What: Logan packs up and leaves to find out more about his past.
Zipping up the one and only bag that he planned to bring along, Logan was ready to go. He didn’t really pack much, just a few flannel shirts and shorts and underwear, the tobacco and stuffed animal that Kurt gave him for Christmas, a Stetson, and of course, the blue origami flowers that Jean made for him. Reading the card that came with it, Logan couldn’t help but smile despite the situation between the two of them. He put them carefully in a small box that he carried by arm while his bag slung on his right shoulder as he walked out of his room that midnight. Everyone was asleep so it made sneaking out all the more easier for him. Passing by Jean’s room, he wanted to knock and say goodbye to her at least. But he couldn’t find it in himself to do it and instead, took one last whiff of her scent before walking away to the main door.
And… he was out. The dark starry sky looked down on him as he turned back and looked at the entire mansion. Big, definitely. He was never really the sentimental kind, but of course, this was where he became a changed man. Where he knew there was more to him than just a killing machine. Where he found the woman he would love forever. And before he could change his mind about leaving, he walked off and told himself not to turn back.
Before he left his room, he slid a letter down Charles’ room that would explain his absence. But what he wrote down was a lie. He wanted Charles and everyone else to think that he’ll only be gone for a while to try and find out more about his past, and to find out who experimented on him. Well, not a complete lie. The truth is that he’s not planning on coming back. Jean was the only reason he stayed, and a few other younger kids that grew on him. But now, Jean was with Scott and he felt like those kids were strong enough that they didn’t need him anymore. Plus, he’d always been the lone wolf kind of man, and he didn’t feel as if he was meant to be part of a team.
That was the plan, anyway. To leave and not come back. But something inside Logan tells him that he will be back. Because Xavier’s is now his home.
I planned on making just one but these were surprisingly fun to do and I got carried away so here is a bouquet of paper roses. I know our relationship has turned downward after that and it took a bad toll. I never intended to hurt you and I really don’t want to lose you now but it seems I already am. So before anything else, I just want to tell you one thing.
Toujours garder le sourire car tu es beau quand vous souriez.
I only recently learnt that you spoke French so I made a quick study on the language to form that sentence which may or may not sound terribly off but I’m hoping you understood it anyways.
Merry Christmas, Logan.
-Jean
"Thanks, Jeannie. I... I'll keep that in mind. This means a lot. Thank you, really."
What: After his talk with Jean, Logan goes outside to have some time by himself, to think, to plan what he's going to do next in his life, to scream and shout. To cry.
I get it. She was right, and it makes it hurt all the more for Logan. Her words repeatedly flashing in his brain, making him feel as if he was being stabbed in the chest a thousand times. It hurt more than the tons of actual wounds and injuries that he has endured in his lifetime. All because she was right. He tried to be as calm as he could, but it pained him too much to think about it, to think about her, to think about what he can’t give her. She wanted a good guy, and Logan himself knew very well that he was not one.
Despite his short legs he took big steps as he walked through the halls of the mansion, frantically trying to escape the premise before his heart and everything else inside him exploded. It was inevitable, anyway, and he decided that when he does tear and shred himself into a million pieces, he better do it when he’s alone. He’d never been good with dealing with problems without using violence, but he wasn’t in the mood for love advice and sympathetic comments at the moment. He just wanted to be by himself, to be alone, as he realizes he may very well be for his entire life. For his and everybody else’s sake.
As he finally reached the main door, he felt his heart slowly crushing, his whole body crumbling, and he needed to get out, to get away as fast as he could. So the moment he got out of that damned door and closed it behind him, he ran for it. He ran and ran until he was in the woods, concealed from everyone’s sight and hearing range, where he can do whatever the hell he wanted and shout at the top of his lungs yet no one could hear him. When he got to his private spot, he wanted to pop out his claws and vent his anger out on the trees, cutting them like the lumberjack he never knew he once was. But as he arrived, his whole body completely weakened and he dropped to his knees. He was vulnerable, very vulnerable to the point that tears started forming in his eyes and he couldn’t even hold them back for any longer than a second. It was beyond his control as the tears streamed down the rough skin of his cheeks, and down to his bushy facial hair.
He knew it all along. Logan had always been a fighter, a survivor. But he always knew that he had no fighting chance when it came to Jean. He always knew that she would go with the practical and more obvious choice, which was Scott. But it always did hurt every time he thought of that inevitable situation, so he kept on pushing it to the farthest corners of his mind, where the thought won’t be bothering him and he could keep trying and trying to gain Jean’s affection. No, he was trying to get more than that. He was trying to gain her love. But only now has he been hit with the cold, hard truth. So maybe it wasn’t true that she couldn’t love a beast like him, because apparently she did and she does. But the truth was that she didn’t want to be with him. For reasons that he completely understood yet was still enough for a man like him to crumble down. And that hurt him all the more.
Maybe it would’ve been less painful if she didn’t love him. If she couldn’t love him. That would’ve been expected and her choice probably wouldn’t have hurt that bad. She says she loves him, yet couldn’t be with him. Logan didn’t even try to reason out with her, he didn’t bargain with her or give her reasons why she should be with him. Because she was right. And Logan loves and cares for her too much to let her be with someone like himself. No, he just couldn’t let it happen. With him, there was a very high possibility that she would die, maybe even in his own hands and the guilt would just eat him up. And now he’s just hoping that someday, even though it’s completely impossible, that he’ll be able to look at Jean, happy with Scott, and not feel an ounce of pain. Well, one can dream.
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