Prompt: “May I have this dance?”
A/N: this might be a bit inaccurate since I haven’t seen apocalypse yet, so I apologize in advance.
Kurt Wagner has never really had a way with woman, especially the ones that he was romantically interested in. Despite the obvious color of his skin, which was very prominent against the normal flesh colors, he was very socially awkward and really didn’t understand the normal social cues and phrases. He was shy and had one of the biggest hearts, yet no one seemed to stick around long enough to find out.
The first time he had met you, he was instantly lovestruck. Usually he found himself wandering the mansion grounds, often times avoiding bullies and chatting with his friends. On one of his afternoon walks, he spotted you lounging underneath a tree. You weren’t doing anything special, instead you were chatting with a couple of his friends. From where he was standing, he could easily spot out Jubilee and Jean in that group, along with Scott and Ororo. There shouldn’t have been any reason for him not to go over there and say hello, but as much as he wanted to, he found himself unable to move forward. There was something about you that immediately stopped him in his tracks. For awhile now, you had noticed from the corner of your eyes that someone was no-so-subtly watching you, before you could tell who it was—he disappeared. No one else inside the group had noticed your odd behavior, or the mysterious figure, but nevertheless you were determined to find out who it was.
From there, you just had searched endlessly, asking some of your closest friends for advice on who could possibly be watching you. It was a bit creepy, you had to admit; at the least, which lead you to believe that you could potentially have a stalker on your hands—somehow Jean gad always assured you that it was nothing like that.
“Trust me [Y/N] it’s far from what you’re thinking.”
Whenever you had asked for clarification, she would always shake her head and mutter the word ‘soon’. After hearing it nearly every day, you had soon become sick of that word as well as her response. You wanted answers and you wanted them now, and since she was pretty much the only psychic that you could persuade. There was also the option of asking Scott, considering the fact that the red haired girl could barely keep secrets from him, but he was way too loyal to give up any information. Which, left you trapped and back at square one.
In the following few weeks, there had been a bunch of awkward yet knowing smiles from a majority of your friends, which left you completely and utterly confused. You were no psychic and neither were a majority of your friends, yet they all seemed to know something that you didn’t. It wasn’t until you had started receiving gifts, left mysteriously at the doorstep of your room, that you figured something was different. Flowers, chocolates, and cute plush animals were sitting there whenever you awoke in the morning, they always contained a note and was never signed with a name. Written on the piece of paper was always a romantic poem or paragraph, something that at the first word had made your heart swoon. There was never an indication of who could possibly be sending those gifts, or any connection to their identity. This had stumped you and for a couple of reasons; the first being the fact that whoever this person was, knew your dislikes and likes as if they were close to you, this posed a problem since a majority of your friends were either certainly not the romantic type or already smitten with someone else. You knew this could not be the work od Scott, since he had a massive crush on Jean, nor Logan because who knew what was going on in his life, Storm had something going on with Hank, Alex was way too old for you and Warren was plainly not your type.
You had nearly forgotten about Kurt, till a flash of a student’s blue scarf caught your eye. There was no way to put into words how you felt about the boy, but to put it simply, you thought he was absolutely stunning. Jean had introduced you to him a while back, when he first enrolled as a student of academy, he stood there in front of you—shyly, if you remember from reading his body language. He stuck out his hand, murmuring in that lovely German accent of his, that his name was Kurt Wagner, his cheeks tinting a beautiful shade of purple. Immediately, you had enveloped his hand with your own, giving him a smile and introducing yourself. Then in a poof of foul-smelling air, he had disappeared, leaving you and Jean alone. To say the least, his exit had stunned you, a bit of hurt crawling into your heart. The psychic had attempted to reassure you that it was quite normal for him to do that, almost like a defense mechanism when he’s panicked. At the time, you couldn’t understand what you could have possibly done to frighten him, yet you and him had certainly kept up great lengths to avoid each other ever since that incident. Which thus, eliminated him as a possible interest.
It was the next day that you woke up to no gift or note. The change was quite shocking at seven in the morning, but nevertheless you played it cool. There could have been a numerous amount of reasons why there was no gift; either they had forgotten, or you had woken up earlier than usual, or they were planning something special, and the list went on. You went about your day, attempting to distract yourself from your supposed secret admirer, all your efforts seemed to fail. The fist being Jubilee, who practically tackled you at breakfast, demanding to know what you gotten today. After you had told her of the emptiness outside your room, she grinned, a sly smile and her eyebrows raised she scampered off. Jean was the second, and after hearing the news had a similar reaction to Jubilee; a small yet knowing smile sitting on her lips as she sauntered away. By the time Warren came around with the same reaction, you were practically ready to go all Wolverine on their asses. They knew exactly what was going on and exactly who was behind the romantic gestures, yet they refused to tell you—some friends they were.
Before you knew it, classes were over for the day and it was time to finish homework and sleep. After a cryptic farewell by your friends, you disappeared down the hall to find someone standing idly outside your door. You had immediately halted in your tracks, the person sending shivers down your spine, and butterflies exploding in the pit of your stomach. In all of his glory stood Kurt Wagner, dressed in such an ill-fitting tuxedo that you could only assume it belonged to Warren or Scott, fiddling loosely and nervously with a single red rose. Cautiously, you approached the blue boy, who hadn’t noticed you approaching till it was too late and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hello, Kurt.”
Those two words seemed to have frightened him, for he jumped so high that he nearly banged his head on the ceiling of the hallway. Regaining his composure a few seconds later, he managed a small smile and a greeting back, offering you the beautiful rose. Gladly you took it, your fingers ending up brushing with his, making the lovely purple flush appear on his cheeks. None of you were in the mood to address the awkwardness and tension that engulfed the two of you, preferring and willing to bask in some uncomfortable silence instead. Up close and personal, you could finally admire him, from every ancient symbol that graced his skin to the way his tail would nervously swish back and forth every so often. So far you hadn’t pieced together the fact that he was your secret admirer, someone who received advice from Scott and Warren that this was the exact approach to swoon a girl, someone who was too shy and sweet to come out and admit his feelings.
“Here, why don’t we go into my room and we can—”
Before you could even take a step forward, he had stood blocking your door with his entire body. With an eyebrow raised, he soon turned a bit more purple as he tried to formulate a way he could possibly explain his odd behavior, instead he decided to step aside. Deciding to look past his mysterious behavior, you turned the knob and your jaw nearly hit the floor. Where once stood a semi-neat and organized bedroom, had been somehow transformed into something from a romantic paradise. Rose petals were scattered haphazardly around the floor of your bedroom, the lights were dimmed and candles were lit providing a warm glow to the room, even a small disco ball that hung from the ceiling.
To say that you were speechless was a little more than an understatement, everything suddenly clicking together like puzzle pieces falling into place. The gifts and romantic messages, the knowing smiles from your friends—who knew all along that this blue fluff ball who in fact fancied you as you did to him. It was your turn to become red in the face, not believing how you could have possibly missed what was right in front of you all along.
As if a switch had suddenly been flicked on, soft music encased the room, and you could swear somewhere Jean was watching over the two of you. Kurt had harnessed the charming part of his personality and gently took your hand, leading you inside the room.
“May I have this dance?”
He had offered you his hand, and gladly you took it the two of you spending the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s embrace.
#228 with Kurt Wagner please? If you don’t write for him I understand, good luck with the blog and have a wonderful day <33
Published
Toad's Cave 