Fervent Feelings

X-Logan Chapter 23 - Slipping Through My Fingers

The sun beats down on my back as I lean against the red metal railing, the warmth seeping through my clothes. The heat feels heavy, almost comforting, as I watch Laura, for once, just being a kid. She's perched on one of those old, coin-operated electric ponies you'd find at the mall, the kind I used to beg my mom to let me ride. Laura's tiny hands grip the worn reins, her face serious despite the childishness of the moment.

A sharp metallic clatter pulls me from my thoughts. Laura's rattling the change machine violently, frustration etched on her face as the ride grinds to a halt.

"Laura, honey, it's done," I call out gently, but she doesn't stop, her little body still shaking the machine as if sheer force will make the pony move again.

"Laura, stop!" I snap, pushing myself off the railing when I spot Logan stepping out of the limo. He strides over, and before I can reach her, her claws 'snikt' out of her hands, glinting in the harsh sunlight. The sight of them—those deadly weapons on such a small child—sends a chill up my spine.

Logan reaches her in two long strides, grabbing her wrist before she can do anything reckless. She lets out a low growl, her eyes blazing, but Logan doesn't flinch. With his free hand, he digs into his pocket, pulling out a single quarter.

She tugs her arm free from his grip, her claws retracting with a hiss. "Last ride," he mutters, his voice gruff but steady. He drops the coin into the machine, the mechanical pony jolting back to life.

A brief silence follows, thick with unsaid words. Logan turns, his eyes meeting hers for a moment longer. "You're welcome," he huffs before striding past me, heading toward Charles, who's already wheeling himself into the restroom.

I watch Logan disappear inside, their voices rising in a muffled argument. For a moment, I allow myself peace, resting my elbows against the red pipes.. I close my eyes, letting the sun wash over me, its warmth mixing with the occasional cool gust of desert wind. It's peaceful, the vastness of the desert stretching out endlessly before me, like an oasis of solitude amidst the chaos of everything.

Then, a familiar ping hums deep in my chest, feelings that aren't my own. I sigh, the weight of it pressing against me like a second skin. "It's rude to stare," I mutter, not even bothering to look over my shoulder.

"Do I know you or something?" I ask, turning lazily to my left.

Logan stands there, lingering in front of the restroom door like a man caught in a memory. His shoulders are slouched, his face worn and tired. He shakes his head slowly as if the answer weighs him down. "No," he replies, his voice low, gravelly, and full of regret. "But I know you--knew you." He corrects himself, eyes distant, as though he's seeing something—or someone—else in my place.

I open my mouth to ask what he means, but before I can, his hazel eyes snap back to the present, scanning the area quickly. "Where's the kid?" he asks, his tone sharpening.

"Shit." I spin around, my heart dropping into my stomach. The pony sits there, no longer rocking, and Laura nowhere to be seen.

Logan clears his throat and moves past me, his limp more pronounced now, heading toward the convenience store. There's a tension in his step, an urgency that sends me scrambling after him.

Inside, I hear it—Laura's growl, low and menacing. Logan practically rips the glass door open, his voice raised. "Not okay!"

I rush over peering through the window, and there she is, her wrist gripped tightly in Logan's hand, her claws out again, their wicked points aimed at the now pale, wide-eyed store clerk. The poor man lies frozen on the floor, too terrified to move.

Logan pulls her away, holding her tightly as she struggles, her eyes wild with defiance.

His gaze flicks to me, frustration written all over his face. "Come on. Get in the car," he orders, dragging Laura along behind him. She glares at him, but there's something else there too—something softer, almost like trust.