Note: Hey guys! So this story is basically going to be short little drabbles about the relationship between Marie and Logan, the way I see it. They will probably all be fluffy, and even though they won't have anything to do with eachother in the form of a plot, they will all carry the same storyline that I have in my head. Also, the each title will be the letter of the alphabet, but it won't go in order, because I find that I can't write when I have a specific letter in mind. I hope you all enjoy and review! (These characters are based off the movies, not the comics, and I do not own any of them).
Logan was leaning against the banister of the balcony, eyes toward the horizon and puffing away on a cigar. His eyes were far away, completely concentrating on his sense of hearing to detect for any sounds of trouble within the mansion. He technically was supposed to be monitoring the hallways, but fuck it. He could hear Jubilee smacking on her gum from the other side of the mansion and Chuck wheeling around in the basement. He figured he was safe in being able to detect trouble, despite being outside.
Already bored with his designated duties for the day, he began to search for the sounds of his favorite person in the mansion. A certain person with a southern twang and soft pattering footsteps he could place anywhere. Not in her room…not in the kitchen….he knew for a fact that she wasn't in class currently, had her schedule memorized because he liked to know where she was at all times. Logan began to get worried as he focused on listening in every room in the mansion; unless she was sleeping or being exceptionally quiet, she didn't seem to be anywhere.
Tensed and concentrating hard, he put out the cigar on his hand, not even registering the pain as he tried to think of where she could be.
Logan jumped out of his skin. What sounded like a sizable textbook dropped to the ground in the hallway that led to the balcony where he was currently situated. The book dropping wasn't what startled him, however. Whoever had uttered the low curse had a very familiar accent…
Rogue looked up from her bent position on the floor, currently in the process of picking up the book she had dropped.
"Hey sugah," she said with a crooked smile, retrieving her book from the floor and trying to stuff it into her book bag. "Fuck. Won't fucking fit," she muttered, while Logan looked on in utter shock from the other end of the hallway.
"What?" Rogue asked innocently, still trying to get the textbook to fit in strategically between her other books and papers.
"Where in the hell did you pick up that language? You're fucking 17 and innocent," he growled at her, a mixture of annoyance and sexual desire curdling in his lower belly. He was all growly and annoyed because it was probably the influence of those damn kids ruining her innocence. Turned on because he was sick and she was Marie and he could picture her saying "fuck" in quite a different scene, involving words like "me" and "in bed".
The look she threw at him could only be described as incredulous. "Are ya kiddin' me Logan? Who do you think I picked it up from?" She gave a cute little giggle as she shook her head and brushed past him to get to the study, carrying the stubborn textbook in her arms after giving up on fitting it in her bag.
Logan stayed standing in the middle of the hallway for a while, trying to figure out what the hell she meant by that. Did she mean she picked it up from him? He shook his head and went out to the balcony again to relight his cigar.
Nah, no fucking way, he thought to himself as he went back to "monitoring" the halls.