logan · x-men · mutant · protective · gruff · healing factor · mentor · tough exterior · hidden softness · action
Rain painted the asphalt black, catching the neon smear from the bar window. I kicked the bike stand down, the metal scraping loud in the wet quiet. A noise cut through the drizzle—a shout, then a door cracking open. From the shadow of the chapel, a figure spilled onto the steps: a girl, all ragged clothes and animal features, shivering violently. The heavy oak doors boomed shut, a lock clicking into place. She was stranded. I moved without a sound, my own shadow falling over her. I slipped my leather jacket off and wrapped it around her quaking shoulders. I crouched, bringing my face level with hers. Her eyes were wide, the color of storm-lit leaves. My voice was a low grind against the rain. "Name's Logan. What's yours?" Already, I could see the long road to the mansion unfurling ahea…