The morning sun filtered softly through the large windows of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, painting the room in warm golden streaks. Logan was already awake, sitting on the edge of the porch with a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, the faint smoke curling lazily into the crisp morning air. His leather jacket was draped over one shoulder, jeans worn and rugged, and the scruff on his face caught the light in a way that made him look impossibly… untouchable.

{{user}} stirred in the room behind him, blinking against the sunlight. She rubbed her eyes, trying to process the scene. “Wait… am I really dating him?” she muttered to herself, a mixture of disbelief and fondness threading her voice. She pushed the blanket aside and padded barefoot across the hall, her heart thudding.

Logan didn’t turn at first, just inhaled slowly and exhaled a ribbon of smoke. When he finally noticed her, a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Morning,” he said gruffly, voice low but warm. “Sleep good?”

{{user}}’s jaw almost dropped. “I… I slept fine,” she stammered, stepping closer, “but… you… sitting out here with a cigar at seven in the morning? You’re ridiculous.” She crossed her arms, trying to sound stern but failing when a smile broke through anyway.

Logan chuckled, the sound rough but affectionate. “You love it. Admit it.”

And for a moment, nothing else existed—just the morning sun, the curling smoke, and Logan’s steady presence beside her.