「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(212) Unbelievable

Lynn's POV

Agonising droplets swept themselves across my face intermittently as I narrated our story in the same wretched manner I did with James. No matter the strong front I forced, it hurt just as much as I remembered, like a sharp blade gradually slitting along my insides with reality blatantly gloating and revelling in its slow kill.

Logan gazed at me with a grave sense of sympathy, the compassion buried deeply within rapidly growing and resurfacing onto his animalistic features with every sound of our tragedy. I looked at him, tears dripping, and with a smile so bitter sweet, everything was unconvincing.

In his eyes I saw a clear reflection, of a broken woman failing miserably to cover up her immense suffering from the recurring loss of her husband. Yet, there was no fear to expose my vulnerabilities nor any worry that he could see just how every shred of dignity I had was being ripped from me, for there existed as many reasons as the pieces of my shattered heart to believe that the rustic man in front me was one worth trusting.

With that, I bravely wiped my face and tediously withdrew my weak grasp from Charles, feebly extending it towards Logan. He attentively took my fragile hand into his palm, a warm shelter filled with sheer delicacy easily obliterated by his rugged appearance.

"Logan, listen," I pleaded softly, locking eye contact with him.

"I understand that you have doubts about this place. About the school, about our vision, and even about Charles," I revealed in a calm tone but Logan reacted shamefully, tentatively descending his gaze from my face.

"But I don't blame you," I reassured kindly, gently stroking the back of his hand, and he looked up at me with a beam of hesitancy.

"I just want you to know that we mean no harm," I asserted cordially, partially eradicating his uncertainties as his lips twitched into a small smile.

"To you, to the children, or to anyone," I reiterated, grinning at him sincerely.

"You know, he strives to uphold harmony," I educated proudly, briefly glancing at Charles.

"To preserve peace between mutants and humanity is Charles' greatest dream. It's his life's work. It's what keeps him running," I enlightened enthusiastically but my smile of excitement began to falter, feeling a hint of despair draining away my remaining positive energy.

"It's what takes him out bed everyday, when I'm not there for him in the morning," I murmured grimly as the words spilling from my subconscious ruthlessly delivered me into the bleakness of realisation.

A barren silence trickled into the spiritless chamber, dominating the still air rattled only by the monotonous beeps of inanimate gadgets, as I gaped blankly at Charles' equally lifeless frame until I registered something moving in the corner of my eye and found Logan gesturing towards Charles in a familiar way.

"The power of your love..." Logan suddenly commented and I looked up at him in that nostalgic posture, anxiously anticipating his completed sentence.

"Is unbelievable," Logan blurted in admiration as he gazed respectfully at Charles and his honest claim of significant resemblance instantly triggered my waterworks again.

"Hey, hey. Pull yourself together. It's not over yet," Logan consoled earnestly, genuinely thinking the surge of salted fluids to be fuelled by grief but his assumptions were only reasonable given the unsightly mess I had become, heaving over unrestrained sobs actually inflamed by a delightful taste of overwhelming gratification.

"No, no... I'm fine... Really..." I stammered, my voice stumbling over a series of congested throats and blocked noses, as I mustered a heartfelt smile, albeit with the joyful liquids still pouring uncontrollably down my face.