Another Life

Part 1

I sat on the cold stone steps of Xavier's mansion, rolling a cigar between my fingers, watching the sun sink down below the horizon. The grounds were quiet, only the distant sounds of kids laughing drifting through the air. It's should've been peaceful, but my mind was another but peaceful. The evening was calm, but inside, I was a damn hurricane.

Jean Grey. She was all I could think about. Her face was burned into my mind, that red hair catching the sunlight just right, that smile could light up the darkest parts of me. I've never been one for fancy words or long speeches, but when it comes to Jean, everything was different.

It took everything in me not to stab his fucking eyes out every time I saw her with him— Scott Summers. Mr. Perfect. Cyclops. The golden boy. He always had that look, like he was the only one who could take care of her, the only one she needed. And maybe she felt the same way; hell, I don't know. But every time they're together, it feels like someone's twisting a knife in my gut.

I took a long drag from my cigar, letting the smoke curl around my face. Didn't do much to calm me down, but it was better than nothing. I could smell her before I saw her— Ororo Munroe, or "Storm" as the team calls her. She had that clean scent of rain right before it hit. She always had a way of sneaking up on me.

"Hey, Logan," she said, her so soft, almost hesitant.

I didn't look at her. Just kept staring out at the trees. "Hey, Ro."

She sat down beside me, her gaze heavy on my face. "You're brooding more than usual," she said, trying to sound light, but I could hear the concern underneath. "What's on your mind?"

I knew what she was getting at. She always did "Just thinking," I muttered.

"About Jean?"

I didn't answer, just took another puff of my Cuban cigar. She knew. Hell, everyone in this damn place knew.

"Logan," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "you know she's happy with Scott, right? Maybe..."

"I know, Storm," I cut her off, my tone sharper than I intended. "Doesn't mean it's easy."

She nodded like she understood but she couldn't possibly know what it felt like to be me. To have this...thing inside me, clawing and growling every time I saw them together.

I wanted to drill my claws in Summers eyes making his brain gush out of his face...

"You've gotta let it go," she said interrupting my day dream "it's not fair to you...or her."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, easier said than done, Ro. You want what you can't have, and there ain't much you can do about it."

Before she could say anything else, the door creaked open, and there she was. Jean. She stepped out onto the porch, her red hair pinned up and the light shined just right, like a an angel. She looked over, spotted us, and waved, that bright smile of hers making my heart do that stupid thing again.

"Hey, you two!" She called out , her voice light, like music or something.

"Hey, Jean," I forced myself to say, trying to sound casual.

Storm gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and stood up. " we were just talking about you," she said with a grin.

Jean raised her thin perfect eyebrow, "All good things, I hope?"

"Always," Ororo replied.

I watched them, forcing myself to stay in seated on the stone step, even though every instinct told me to get up, to go to her, to—

"Jean, you ready?" Scott's voice cut through the moment like a sword. He was standing in the doorway, ruby glasses glinting in the fading light. Always showing up at the worst possible time.

"Coming," she called back, turning to look at me again. "See you at dinner?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. She gave me one last smile and then walked over to Scott, slipping her hand into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I watched them walk away, their fingers laced together, their bodies close, like they were made for each other or some shit like that. It made me sick, but at the same time I couldn't look away. I could make her happier, she was meant to be with me not him.

Ororo turned to look at me, her eyes full of that sympathy that I didn't want nor need. "Stay strong, Logan," she said.

I didn't say anything. Just continue to watch Jean and Scott disappearing into the mansion, their laughter echoing in the hallway. I wished I could tell myself things would get easier. But deep down, I knew it was all a lie.

I stubbed my cigar and got to my feet, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Another day in this place, another night of pretending I was okay. I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and headed inside.

Some wounds would never heal, if only my healing factor could heal the feeling that Jena would never choose me.