𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝟐𝟒. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕

────୨ৎ────

LOGAN

The steady beeping of the stabilizer echoed through the infirmary, filling the room with an oppressive tension. Logan stood over Jean, his eyes fixed on the rise and fall of her breathing. A device on her head monitored the activity in her brain, its lights blinking in rhythm with the neurons firing beneath the surface. His hand traced down her shoulder, a hesitant gesture, until suddenly the machine beeped sharply, and Jean's hand shot out, gripping Logan's arm with an incredible force.

Her eyes flickered open, scanning the room before locking onto Logan. "Jean," he whispered, relief and apprehension mixing in his voice.

"Hey, Logan," she replied, turning to face him fully, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Welcome back," he said, though the words felt heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Jean slowly removed her hand from his wrist, a trace of amusement in her eyes. "Back where we first met. Only I was in your place, and you were in mine."

"Are you okay?" Logan asked, his voice thick with concern.

"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze drifting up to the fluorescent lights above. "More than okay."

With a swift movement, she began pulling away the attachments from her chest, her fingers trembling slightly. When she turned back to Logan, there was a teasing glint in her eyes. "Logan, you're making me blush."

"Are you reading my thoughts?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"I don't have to," she said softly, a knowing smile on her lips. She reached out, straddling his waist, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's okay. It's okay."

Without warning, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. Logan responded, his hands roaming down her sides as he deepened the kiss, his need palpable. She tugged at his sweater, her nails grazing his skin, leaving temporary imprints that sent shivers down his spine. Logan groaned, lost in the moment, his hands caressing her thighs as her eyes flickered, turning from black to a dangerous gold.

"Wait," he breathed out, pulling back slightly.

"No," Jean insisted, her voice filled with urgency.

With a sudden force, her powers yanked his belt off, sending it flying across the room. Startled, Logan jumped off the bed, hastily readjusting his top. "Jean, this isn't you," he said, his voice tight with worry.

She closed the distance between them in an instant, her gaze piercing. "Yes. Yes, it is me."

Logan grasped her shoulders firmly, trying to ground her. "No. Maybe you ought to take it easy, huh? The professor said you might be... different."

A bitter laugh escaped her. "He would know, wouldn't he?" she spat, her eyes narrowing. "What? You think he's not in your head too? Look at you, Logan. He's tamed you."

Logan's expression hardened. "What did you try to do to Scott at the lake?"

Jean's face darkened as she turned away, avoiding his gaze.

"Jean?" he pressed.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"You're in the mansion. You need to tell me what you tried to do to Scott."

Her breathing quickened, panic setting in. "Jean, tell me what you tried to do." Logan's voice grew firmer as he pulled out Scott's glasses from his pocket. Jean's eyes widened at the sight.

"Oh god," she whispered, her face contorting with pain. The glasses disintegrated into ashes, and the room around them began to unravel in chaos.

Logan cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "Jean, stay with me! Talk to me. Look at me!"