"I don't do sappy. But you? You make me want to try."
"Then maybe I'm just the kind of trouble you need."
Lottie, a warm-hearted Southern belle with a special gift for manipulating fear, works as a caring nurse at the school for mutants. Her gentle...
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Lottie sat on the edge of the bed, her head hanging low, her fingers clenched into tight fists on her lap. The room was dimly lit, the shadows from the small lamp on the nightstand casting long, wavering shapes across the walls. The air felt thick with sorrow and exhaustion, both of them reeling from the loss of Charles and the harrowing events with Jean.
Logan moved quietly, his boots heavy on the floor as he approached her. He knelt in front of her, his rough hand resting gently on her knee. "Lottie..." he whispered, his voice soft but filled with unspoken emotion.
Lottie didn't respond, her eyes staring blankly at the floor, her chest tight with grief. She could feel the tears building up, but she fought to keep them at bay, her body trembling as the weight of everything came crashing down on her.
Without another word, Logan stood and slid beside her on the bed, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head softly, the pressure light but reassuring, his lips brushing against her hair. "I got you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against her scalp.
The dam broke. Lottie's chest heaved as the sobs came, hot and painful, spilling out of her in waves. She buried her face into the crook of Logan's neck, her fingers clutching his shirt as she cried. "I couldn't stop it," she choked out between sobs, her voice broken. "I couldn't save him, Logan..."
His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as if he could shield her from the weight of her own grief. "Shh, darlin', it wasn't your fault. You did everything you could," he whispered, his lips pressing soft kisses to the top of her head. "You hear me? You did everything."
But Lottie couldn't stop the tears. She wept into his neck, her breath ragged and uneven as guilt and sorrow twisted inside her. "He's gone. I couldn't—" Her voice cracked, her words dissolving into a fresh wave of tears.
Logan's hand moved to the nape of her neck, his fingers gently brushing through her hair in soothing strokes. "I know, sweetheart. I know." His own heart ached watching her break like this, knowing there was nothing he could say to fix it, to bring Charles back, to undo the destruction Jean had caused. But he held her, his thumb tracing slow, calming circles against her neck. "Just let it out. I'm here."
Her sobs were muffled against him, her tears soaking into his shirt, but Logan didn't care. He kissed her head again, lingering for a moment as he breathed her in, her sadness weighing heavy on his chest. He knew this pain too well — the pain of losing people he cared about, the helplessness of watching it happen and not being able to stop it.
Lottie's fingers clung to him as if he were her only anchor in a sea of grief. Her breath hitched, her voice hoarse. "What if we can't get her back? What if I lose you, too?"
Logan's grip on her tightened. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to hers. "You ain't gonna lose me."
Her eyes squeezed shut, and she let out a soft, broken sob. Logan's hand moved back up to cradle her head, brushing the damp strands of hair away from her tear-streaked face. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there.
