Want | The Forbidden Fruit | One More Dream | Yester Life: My Destiny | Yester Life: Souls Collide | Yester Year: His Phantom Lover | Yester Life: This Prison Of Skin part 1 of 2 | Yester Life: This Prison Of Skin 2 | Title:Yester Life: Glimpses Of The Past | Title:Yester Life: The Gossamer Thread Of Time | Title:Yester Life: An Easing Of The Soul | Title: Yester Life: Taking Back My Soul | The Cleanse | Touched | Rogue-aholic | Mind Games | Unconventional


AfterHours Fanfic
Yester Life: Souls Collide

Title: Souls Collide
Subject: Wolverine/Rogue from Wolverine's POV. non-brotherly/sisterly
love. A grown man's point of view. And boy is he ever a grown man. I about
died at the sight of his back and his chest...whew is it hot in here? As you
can tell I thought he was hot and hot blooded. Which means that I might
explore feelings of a sexual nature so...
Rating: **PG-18** is the rating I give this. For a grown man's thoughts.
Author: Kia Mira
Summary: Wolverine's thoughts as when he first sets eyes on Rogue.
FEEDBACK!!!! at kia_mira@bellsouth.net
Disclaimer: If I owned them I wouldn't be posting here. LOL so just keep
that in mind.

Souls Collide

I can feel my body righting it's self. The bruises that should be
apparant after being pummled continuosly for the last hour no where to be
found. That last guy had been to drunk to stand let alone fight. This was to

"Huh!" he scoffed as he raised his glass to his lips. Draining the sharp
liquide and relishing the burn as it slid down his throat. He breathed
deepily and lowered the glass ignoring the man trying to drum up another
fight. His keen sences picked up a foriegn scent in the air.

Moving his neck from side to side letting the satisfying sound ease his
tension. It was a sweet soft scent. Not of purfume. God knew the place was
filled with women that doused themselves in it. Trying to hide the stink
they had become.

No this was different. This was the smell of innocence. Of timidity. He
could tell she was here mixing in the crowd, but that she was untouchable.
Oblivious to all around her. She smelled of mint and cold and budding
womanhood. The wanting was a surprise. His body reacting to nothing more
than the scent of her skin.

Then the air changed and he knew that a new gladiator had stepped into
the ring. He stood his ground not even flinching as the man neared him.

He excepted the blow. Drank it in as he had drunk the whiskey earlier.
Pulled it into himself. Letting his loneliness and rage build. Build to a
towering inferno before he struck out. It was over before he even began.
Then he was back at the cage. Breathing deepily. Drinking her scent. Oddily
it was calming.

There was a tugging in his chest. Different than when he healed himself.
It was like a cord was being pulled. Drawing him to her. She was a witch. He

He faught his reaction. The pull she excerted over him. He tried to
sever the knot that held the cord but could not.

Her flesh would be pale and soft. Glowing like ivory in the firelight.
She was young. He knew that much and she was tied to him as surely as if
they had been bound by ropes. His soul cried deep within him. It knew her's.
His soul gathered in his chest and screamed in longing for her's. Almost
helplessly he turned his eyes impaling her immediatly. And their souls
collided in the age old ritual of lost souls. Of mating spirits long
seperated by deaths darkness. Only to be thrust time and again into another
time and place. To search from moment to moment for its completion. Its
mate. His mate. He saw her with the eyes of a soul long thirsty for his
sweet fountian. Eyes that could almost recall caressing her flesh. The
forbidden fruit in the garden.

She is an angel amid the darkness that consumes me. I am nothing but a
saturnine demon locked in my own ruin. A moth drawn to the flame and soon
snuffed out by its glory.

As she stands and meets my feral gaze with honesty and a deep longing
that I can see in her eyes, her soul's gate. I can almost see my hands on
her small body. Caressing her small breasts with my lips and tongue. Her
finger's in my hair. Pulling me to her as her soul pulls me to her now.

He nearly fell beneath the weight of thier soul's joining. Then it hit
him. The loneliness. The reality. This was not some ethereal lover come back
to him. It was a girl child and he was an animal. It seemed fate was a cruel
and wicked thing. He could no more have this child than he could have his
memories back. With the pain that crashed into him he flexed his muscles and
howled at the raging crowd that came suddenly into sharp focus. Then he
turned his back and his soul cried out in desolation. As he felt again the
soul shattering collision of his soul with her's.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am taking liberties her because I am going to do a
continuing series. Dealing with the past lives of our two hero's. I think
the most romantic thing in the world is two people destined for each other
through out time.
As angst producing as lover's held away from each other.

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