Another Life

Part 2

I found myself in the kitchen later that night, nursing a glass of whiskey. The house was quiet, most of the kids and the team was already in their rooms, halls empty. I liked it like this—silent, still. Just me and my thoughts. The burn of whiskey felt good going down, like it was burning away everything I didn't want to feel even if my healing factor wouldn't allow me to fully lose control.

I leaned back against the counter, staring at the amber liquid swirling in the glass. I'd pour myself a couple of glass, but it barely was helping me relax. My mind kept circling back to the same place— Jean and only Jean. I couldn't get her out of my head. Couldn't stop picturing that smile, that laugh. The way she looked at Scott, like he was the only guy in the world. It pissed me off.

I heard the soft patter of footsteps before I saw Jean walking in, looking like she'd come from the library or something. She wore a pair of tight jeans that hugged every curve and a simple, loose sweater. She looked comfortable, at ease, and seeing her like that did something to me. Something I didn't want to think about.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, raising my glass to her.

She smiled, that same sweet smile that drove me crazy. "Something like that. Needed some air." She crossed the kitchen, heading for the fridge, her movements fluid and graceful. "What about you?"

"Just winding down," I muttered, taking another sip. "Long day."

She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, her back to me. I let my eyes drift over her, couldn't help myself. Those jeans really were something. They clung to her just right, accentuating every curve. I could feel the whiskey coursing through my veins, giving me a buzz that made me feel reckless, like I could say anything, do anything.

"Those pants are really working for me," I said before I could stop myself, my voice a low growl. Jean paused, her hand still on the fridge door, and then slowly turned to face me. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—surprise, maybe. Or curiosity. Hell, I couldn't tell. She didn't say anything, just looked at me, like she was trying to figure me out.

I set my glass down on the counter and took a step toward her, the distance between us shrinking. I could smell her perfume, soft and floral, mixed with something else— something uniquely Jean. My hand moved almost on its own, reaching out, slipping into her back pocket. Her body tensed at the contact, but she didn't move away.

"What are you doing, Logan?" She asked softly, her voice barely even a whisper.

I leaned in closer, my lips inches from her ear. "Can't help myself," I murmured. "You drive me crazy, Jean."

She didn't pull away. Didn't say a word. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling quickly. I could feel the heat radiating off her body, could hear the rapid beat of her heart. It was like the world had stopped, like there was nothing else but the two of us, caught in this moment.

For a second, I thought she might lean in, might close the distance between us. My heart pounded in my chest, anticipation coursing through me. But she stepped back, pulling away from me, breaking the contact.

She looked at me, her expression unreadable, a mix of emotions playing across her face. "I should go," she said, her voice tight.

I didn't try to stop her. Didn't say anything. I just watched as she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing in the empty kitchen. She didn't look back, didn't say anything else. She just disappeared down the hallways, leaving me standing there, my hand still tingling from where I'd touched her.

I picked up my glass and took another long sip, the whiskey soothing me. God I wish I could get drunk and just forget. The kitchen felt colder without her in it, the silence heavier. I didn't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. She'd walked away, just like that, without a word.

I slammed the glass down on the counter, the sharp sound echoing through the room. "Damn it," I muttered under my breath. What the hell was I doing? Pushing her like that, testing the boundaries. I knew better. Knew it would end well, but I still don't regret it.

The truth was, I couldn't help my self. Not when it comes to her. I crave her.

I stared down the dark hallway where she'd disappeared. My mind was racing, but she was already gone, back to her room... back to him.

I finished off my drink and poured myself another, the bottle clinking against the glass. Maybe Ororo was right. Maybe I needed to let this go. But staring down that empty hallway, I knew one thing for sure.

I was ant ready to give up on Jean Grey. Not yet. Not ever.