Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. The here fore used characters belong rightfully to Marvel and I just borrowed them. The only profit I hope to achieve with this is the pure pleasure of the reader, so no copyright infringement intended. Please do not sue me, I don’t have money and won’t be getting some from this story.


Author’s notes: This fiction is the sequel to 'Lonely is the night' and is part of the Study in Romance storyline. The change in font marks the change in the speaker this time as well.

This is the second last chapter of my storyline about Jean and Logan and it is up to you to decide whose thoughts these are, Logan’s or Scott’s.


Feedback and Distribution: I’m a feedback addict, so please feed me. Let me know what you think of this story. Loved it; Hated it; Want it for your site? Please email me at zebra-three@web.de




Window to heaven

by Belladonna



The campfire crackled silently and gave the man, who sat there a mysterious orange-red blur in front of the darkness of the night. It was around midnight and he sat on the stump of a tree, his hands loosely on his knees while he was staring into the fire and tried to get himself more clarity about his feelings. The flickering of orange and red kept him drawn to the fire, the cold breeze of the nocturnal air swept over his face and his thoughts were miles away, at a school in Westchester, at her.


Above him the full moon shone, its pale light giving the small clearing in the middle of the woods the silvery image of a theatre in front of the patient audience of the stars that shone like diamonds on the mat black cape the night had drawn over the skies. He glanced up towards these endless skies but it wasn’t the stars that caught his glare but the bright moon and he was once more reminded of the dull nagging pain that beat in his chest, in his heart.




Should I risk it? Should I risk to return and tell her, that it doesn’t matter to me just how long I will have to wait until she might be able to return my feelings for her, if she will ever be able to return them to me? She had made it more than clear to me that she would never feel that much for me like she does for him, but could that possibly have changed? I wished so hard for that to happen but I will accept it, if it might not have done so. I will have to accept it because more than our happiness together I wish for her to be happy. She deserves it to be happy and if I cannot give her that happiness she deserves and needs, at least he shall be able to give it to her then. But I will have true happiness in my heart, when I see her, it doesn’t matter now that she might be with him. It is only her that matters to me.


To be without her is more than I can bear, to be without the smile on her lips and the shining in her eyes. I would never want to be without her, that’s now come clear to me and I will do everything necessary to make her happy, to be the one who brings this smile on her beautiful lips and the shining into her loving eyes. She simply is the most beautiful and astounding woman I’ve ever met in my whole life and I never want to do anything that might hurt her. To loose her would be the worst thing that could possibly happen to me.


I am asking myself if she would be able to feel anything for me, ever feel anything like love for me again, if she has ever felt it for me. Is she also alone right now, like I am?


I am imagining her just now before my mind’s eye, her deep green eyes so full of love and her long red hair, how it is falling loosely over her shoulders. In my mind my hands stroke gently over her tender cheeks and I so much long for touching her truly and not only in my imagination. But I know that it would remain to this imagination, at least until she won’t be able to feel the same for me I feel for her. It is all I will have from her.


The moon over me gives the clearing a pale shimmering and in the cool breeze I can see her, I see how she walks towards me. She wears a lovely blue skirt and her hair is just the way I remember it to be. In the pale moonlight she is even more beautiful, something that is barely possible but it is. She simply stands there, as if she’s unsure at how to come over to me. She is standing in front of me, smiling; a smile that enchants me and draws me completely under her spell. I want to touch her, to run my fingers through her hair, my hands tenderly over her cheeks and to kiss her full red lips. I just want to hold her in my arms and hold her tight, so that she would never go away from me. I want to tell her, how much she means to me and that I love her.


But I know that she is only an illusion, an image of the deep yearning of my lonely heart. I try to hold her, to keep her here with me but she is already fading in the pale moonlight. Before she disappears I can see how her lips are moving, that she tells something but no sound escapes her lips, the red lips I am longing for to see a smile on them again.


It is said that the moon would be a window to heaven, a window that only lovers are able to recognize and to see and I know right now in this moment what I feel for her, truly feel for her. Just in this moment I have seen heaven, a heaven in which I have seen her. In this moment I have achieved total clarity about my feelings, on how much I love her and that has opened my eyes to me.


The window to heaven is no longer closed for me, for I have exactly heard what her lips have told me silently. I needn’t have had to hear her, I have heard it with my heart, with my soul. A deep feeling and understanding in my soul which only belongs to her and can ever only belong to her. I can see it right now and cannot await to return back to her.


I cannot await to tell her that I feel the same she does.


I cannot await to tell her, that I love her more than everything in my life before.




Above the clearing only the full moon was a silent witness of his thoughts and feelings, the pale light that made the place shimmer in silver. For him heaven was no longer out of reach, no longer locked for he had realized his only true love. The man on the clearing knew now where he belonged, because it was where his heart belonged to. He would return home, return to the school, to her, because that’s where his thoughts were since he had left. There was it his heart belonged to and the hearts of lovers should never be separated, never.


Above the clearing the silent words of his love still hung in the air, the words he had understood without that a single word had been spoken, not a sound. He had understood them clearly for he had heard and understood them with his heart.



I love you.”