Amara was sitting at the top of a tree, watching the city from a distance. She could see the sun beginning to set, and sighed. It was about time that she should be getting home.
She climbed down the tree, and without looking down, jumped out.
She landed on a root and stumbled, almost falling, before a strong arm caught her. "Whoa, there, Sheila," it's owner chuckled, in a thick accent she couldn't quite place.
She whirled around to face her rescuer, and had to do a double take. It was one of Magneto's lackeys, the one that could control fire. "Shit," she said. The only person other than Bobby that she couldn't use her powers on. Double shit.
"Wot's wrong, luv?" he asked, knowing quite well already.
Amara was well aware of that. "Like you don't know."
"Oh yeah, you're one of those X-Men aren't ya?" he asked. "Can't quite place which one, though."
As if to flaunt her inability to harm him, Amara held up a magmatized fist. "Does the name Magma ring a bell, Pyro?" she asked.
"Ah, yeah, that one," he said. "I s'pose that means that if I were to tell you how gorgeous I thought you looked all flamed up like that, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, right?"
Amara growled, although she could feel her cheeks heat up at his remark. How dare he say that! They were enemies for heaven's sake! Without pausing to think it through, she pulled back a non-flaming fist and punched him in the jaw, knocking him down. "Wrong," she said.
He could tell that she was angry that he had gotten to her more than she was angry for the compliment, so he made sure that he was grinning harder than ever when he stood up. "Jesus, Sheila, wot was that for? All I did was pay ya a compliment."
"We both know that you didn't mean it," she snarled. "Why are you here?"
"Well, now, that hurts a fella, not trusting him to tell the truth. I was just enjoying an afternoon in the park, same as you." In truth, he had been following her, intrigued by her powers and her attitude, but there was no way he would tell her that.
"Are you sure you weren't stalking me?" she asked.
He almost thought she'd figured him out, but then it struck him that she would have thought he was following her on orders.
"Positive, Sheila." Thunder rumbled overhead, and Amara shivered, suddenly cold.
"Look," she said, "I need to go home, and I'd better not see you following me, or I will do something about it. I can do a lot worse than what I already did, even without my powers."
She turned on her heel and started to stalk out of the park, but he caught her wrist and spun her around to face him.
"Pyro!" she shrieked. "Let… me… GO!" She struggled against his hold, but his grip was like iron.
"No," he said thoughtfully, as if pondering the idea. "I don't think I will. And the name's John, by the way."
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she colud so much as protest, he was kissing her.
Her first reaction was shock. What was he doing? Her next reaction, although slightly delayed, was to fight it.
She struggled against him, but he simply moved his hand up to her neck, holding her against him. His other hand moved slowly up her back, and she shivered. She caught herself, and before he could gain anymore ground (she told herself that he hadn't gained any, that it had been a completely involuntary reaction), he knee came up and caught him in the groin.
He released her and stumbled back., breathless. He looked at her in silence for a few seconds before the rain started to come down.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded. If she had been angry before, now she was furious.
He didn't seem to have learned anything from her temper, as his reply was, "Well, you said I couldn't follow you, so I decided to make the most of the time I had before you left."
She was glaring again, and he walked forward, hoping she wouldn't kick him again. "Now, while we're here, why don't you tell me you're real name?" he asked.
"Amara," she told him grudgingly. His t-shirt was starting to cling to him, and she couldn't help but notice how defined his chest was. And he was really close again. Too close, almost….
"'Mara, " he repeated, grinning. "I like it. It fits."
His hand came up and touched her cheek, and she shuddered delicately. "How old are you, 'Mara?" he asked.
"Almost seventeen," she said. "Why?" She had stopped struggling. That was a good sign, he thought.
"No reason, "he said, now so close that if she moved at all, their bodies would be touching.
He moved his hand down her jawline, and she wondered what it would feel like if their bodies were flush, if she were to kiss him. Would he let her?
She caught herself thinking like that, and she started to pull away from him. "Now, 'Mara," he murmured. "You don't really want to go, do you?"
His other hand was expertly making its way down her back, toward her waist. It came to a rest right above her hip, and she looked up into his eyes as the hand slowly traced small circles on her stomach.
Her muscles tensed, and some small part of her was telling her that yes, that was exactly what she wanted, but the rest of her pushed that unwelcome thought to the back of her mind. She rested her arms around his neck, and the hand on her face moved back and caressed the base of her neck.
In a quiet whisper of a voice, she said, "I suppose I could wait a little longer to go home," and with a soft moan, she was kissing him, and he was kissing her back, and they were both on fire. And for once, it wasn't literal for either of them.
It's not my usual, but I was in a fiery mood today, and I decided that I might as well move on with my Hearts of the X-Men series. I suppose that I'll have to right a sequel for it at some point, but for now, I just needed some nice Amyro goodness. So, here it is! Now tell me, is it as good as my other Hearts of the X-Men fics? Or do you all just like the others because they're Romy?