Chapter 3

Estelle POV

Holding the box I look at the beefy man tanning on my porch. Looking into his eyes perplexed, I speak softly.

"Hello?"

Walking towards him, he holds out the empty container, "I just wanted to return this."

I smile, "Oh, thank you. You didn't have to, you could have dropped it off."

He's silent, making me chuckle, clearly, he didn't think this through.

Unlocking my door, I kick it open gently, "Come in."

Walking into my living room, I drop the box beside the couch. Watching him step inside, closing the door behind him, I take the container.

"I'll brew some tea."

Walking away from him I put the container away before warming up two cups of green tea. Returning I see him looking around, noticing my presence, I hand him his cup before resting on the cushioned chair. Watching him take a seat on the couch I get comfortable, "So...How are you?"

He's silent for a minute, observing me. I don't meet his gaze, drinking the warm beverage before he speaks.

"Good."

Looking at him I relax, "I'm glad, I was worried I hurt you. How rude of me, I haven't introduced myself, my name is Estelle."

He takes a sip of his tea, "Logan."

I smile, "It's nice to put a name to a face."

A short silence fills the air making me nervous again, then I begin to ponder why he's here. If it were serious I assume he would tell me. Does he want me to pay a medical bill? I highly doubt it due to him healing so quickly, I was hoping his head would do the same. Feeling his stare, he finishes his tea, I blurt out an offer.

"Would you like to stay first dinner?"

I expect silence but he answers rather quickly, "Sure."

Nodding I stand, before slipping into the kitchen. As I start to prep the chicken and greens I slowly ponder his reasons. Only to chuckle at the thought that he might have come for the food. It doesn't take long to fry the chicken or finish the greens. I washed both before heading to work. Even the mashed potatoes come out smooth with little to no lumpsalong with generous amounts the seasoning and flavor. Platting the food, I find him sitting at the dinning room table.

Smiling at him I hand him his plate before returning with water in hand. Sitting beside him we eat in comfortable silence.

This isn't how I thought my night would end.

My thoughts disperse as he speaks up, "You're a teacher?"

I swallow my food, looking at him suspiciously, he continues, "I saw the picture of you and your students."

Oh, that makes sense, "Yes, a music teacher. Although you could guess with the instruments lying around." From the grand piano to the guitar there were many other instruments in between.

He nods, "Yeah."

We bk back and forth, him questioning me and me returning with vague answers or rebuttals to his questions. Long after our plates are cleaned we end up continuing our subtle battle of words through the kitchen as he washes and I dry the dishes used tonight.

I hardly notice, nor care as he quickly irritates me with the sudden need to know every detail about me.

But before I could snap back he speaks completely off-topic, "You're welcome to come by the school."

I look at him, putting the last dish away, "Xavier Institute for Higher Learning."

He continues, "A place where mutants can learn to use their abilities, like you." I've heard of this school before, from the great vine of mutants whispering about its purpose. And here I am hearing it again from the man who works there, opening the doors for me to control what could have killed him.

Then it dawns on me, I could have killed him. In the same way, he could have torn me to shreds, I could have hit the wrong spot, making it impossible for him to remember or register how to use his body at all.

What if I hurt the wrong person?

Gripping the countertop I look up at him, "Ok, thank you. I'll take you up on that offer."

I look away, "I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to hurt my kids."

That's my worst fear, what if I hurt my students, I could never live with myself if a day like that came. Walking off he picks up a pen and paper, "Come to this address, and here's the school number."

Handing it to me I nod, "Thank you."

Looking at him, he stares for a moment, well for what feels like a moment. Time seems slow at the moment as I soak in his features. From his light stubble to his rough demeanor. Jis blue eyes that blow me away, as they soften despite his hard expression.

I turn my head, "I'll stop by tomorrow."

He nods, "Ok."

Walking past me, I watch him leave, the sound of an engine roars outside and fades away in the distance.

Tossing the pad on the countertop, I slip into my room, plopping on the bed both exhausted and happy. A long year, a longer evening has come to an end. Eyes heavy my body slowly feels weightless. Curling up against my pillow I drift off, waiting for morning to come.