Chapter 43 – Morning Sparks
The mansion was quiet in the early morning. Most of the team was still dead to the world. Logan cracked his window open, the cool air washing into his room. He scratched his chest, yawned, and raised a beer bottle to his lips.
Down below in the garden stood Sunfire. Arms folded, chin high, eyes locked on the rising sun like he was drawing power from it. The light hit him just right — made him look like some proud samurai standing in judgment.
Logan smirked, tipped the bottle back, and let the foam dribble over the edge.
The spray pattered down, spattering over Sunfire's shoulder, soaking into his collar.
Shiro froze. Slowly, he tilted his head up, rage burning hot in his eyes. "WHAT are you doing, CANADIAN DOG?!"
Logan leaned an elbow on the sill, lazy grin cutting across his face. He let the silence stretch, then drawled, "Nothin'. Just coolin' off a JAPANESE CHICKEN."
The garden went quiet.
Sunfire's fists clenched. His jaw tightened. His stare locked onto Logan's with enough heat to scorch paint.
Logan didn't blink. He just kept smirking, taking another slow pull from the bottle.
For a long moment, it was just two predators staring each other down.
Then a calm voice echoed in both their heads. Charles Xavier, telepathic and steady: "Logan. Shiro. That is enough. Come to the dining room. Breakfast is waiting."
Sunfire huffed, turning away with a snap of his cape. Logan just chuckled, finished his drink, and flicked the empty bottle onto the floor.
"Gonna be a long day," he muttered, closing the window.