The highway lay in front of us, a gray band sprawled out over a white landscape, twisting and turning out of sight. We were the only car on the road this early in the morning, and over Logan's shoulder, I could see the sun coming up through the driver's side window. Pale pink and yellow, it glared blindingly off the snow. It seemed fragile, like a newborn just opening its eyes, and yet it was determined to survive the harsh environment it emerged into.
I sat up, my neck sore from falling asleep against the door of the truck. "Mornin'" I mumbled, rolling my head side to side.
"How you feelin'?" he asked, eyes watching the road.
"All right," I replied. Stretching my arms forward in front my, I felt my back pop. "How long have I been out?"
"Right after we crossed the state line," he answered.
The silence hung between us, a bit awkward at first, but neither of us had ever been extremely chatty. There was no need for words right now.
My mind drifted back to the previous night, and all that had taken place. The blackness and ice I felt inside was melting now, slowly being replaced by soothing, contented warmth. Each little touch of his rough fingertips on my skin, the brush of his surprisingly soft lips, ever so gently on my own, sent a spark running through me. In no time, my leg and arm were healed entirely, and with a surgeon's skill and a lover's touch, Logan meticulously cut away my plaster casts and helped my stand. Once I was used to walking again, I found a pair of my jeans and a sweatshirt that Xavier had brought me from the mansion, and, slipping them on, the two of us walked out of the hospital, ignoring the security cameras that spied upon them as us went. If they wanted to watch, then let them watch. Logan and I had nothing to hide, not anymore.
Once outside of the city, I waited in a gas station until he returned with an old F-150 with a full tank of gas. He told me he "found" the truck, although he wouldn't tell me where. I did notice that the motorcycle was gone though, and Logan had a rather large wad of twenties in his pocket. It didn't matter to me though, where he got what or where he'd been. We were together now, and together we drove south, never once looking back.
Did we do the right thing? I wondered. Running from our problems…we were both good at that. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized we weren't running away, so much as blindly sprinting forward. I smiled a bit at the thought, the two of us charging forward, full speed ahead, with our eyes seeing only each other.
The silence stretched on, not as uncomfortable anymore so much as contemplative. He was thinking too, although what, I wasn't sure. I watched his profile against the rising sun, the furrowed brow, the hard lines of worry etched in his face. Logan would always be something of a mystery to me, but little by little I would learn who he was, and through him, who I was as well.
It wasn't perfect, I thought. Not yet. But then again, nothing is ever perfect. We will always want something more, something we can't have. There's no such thing as perfect, but, as I stretched the taut muscles of my newly healed leg, I was happy at this moment, and that was all that mattered.
I broke the silence first. "Where're we going?"
He shrugged. "You ever been to Mexico?"
It was warm in Mexico, I thought. I slipped my gloved hand through his, lacing my fingers over the top, massaging the spaces between his knuckles where the deadly blades sliced through. I could feel the pointed tips of adamantium underneath the skin, waiting to jump out, slice, tear, kill. Who would have thought those same hands could be so gentle and tender? At first his hand was rigid, inflexible, then, gradually, he wrapped his fingers around mine, and I saw the beautiful contrast of his rough tanned skin against my soft, satin glove. I leaned my head on his shoulder, holding his hand between my own.
"I think I'd like that."
And as the sun rose higher in the morning sky, I felt the soft pink rays warm our clasped hands, felt it wash me in a new light, a life after death.
Eternity was waiting.