「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(190) Rogue

Lynn's POV

"He can't hold on much longer. We have to hurry," I commanded breathlessly, feeling a brewing headache as I briskly propelled myself through the exit of the bistro with the other two sluggishly trailing along.

"I have a car," Logan casually commented as I was about to leave the parking lot.

I swiveled around and gave him a perceptive stare upon finding him pointing to a shabbily maintained lorry two spaces down. Not only was his vehicle rundown and looked to harbour the chance of malfunction even on the short route home, it was way too high for me to transfer into without conspicuously floating in mid air.

"I can't get into that thing, Logan," I disputed plainly.

"We can help you," Marie kindly offered.

Although the compassionate teen nodded eagerly while she gestured towards Logan, his reaction greatly contrasted with a prevailing nonchalant disposition evidencing his hesitancies as he gave us an uninterested stare.

"You really don't have to. I live just ten minutes on foot," I refuted politely, communicating mainly to Logan, but he peered down at me with a frown, almost mirroring my discriminating expression prior.

"Wheels," I huffed, rolling my eyes at his attitude for precision, when the migraine suddenly intensified.

The abrupt and acute pains caused me to grip tightly onto my rims, wincing in reflex as I grunted softly. Immediately, Logan's indifferent stance faltered into his inherent, now deeply inherent, friendly self and he cordially widened his strides towards me. As he bent over, intending to pick me up, I strenuously craned my neck up at him, silently giving him a judgmental glare.

"I thought you said we had to hurry?" Logan prompted and I eventually succumbed to the agony, allowing him to handle me.

Readily hoisting me into his arms, Logan carefully placed me into the middle seat in the front while Marie conscientiously loaded her huge luggage and my chair into the unkempt trunk. Once the young girl sat herself next to me on the passenger side, Logan swiftly turned the keys.

Surprisingly not stalling, a cacophonous roar of the worn engines rustily powering on exploded fervently into the chilly serenity but the clamorous commotion blended well with the surrounding noise once everything reverted to normal and was blatantly neglected by the passing humans as Logan steered us out of the cluttered compound.

Look out for this, I instructed Logan as I tiredly projected an image of the exterior of my house into his mind.

"This is getting really disturbing," Logan scoffed with a disgusted expression and shook his head vigorously as if it could reduce his experience of the repulsive impressions he created for himself due to the unexpected influx of psychic messages.

"You seem ill," Marie remarked in concern, wrapping her fully covered arms around me as she observed my fatigued state.

"You are very sweet, my darling. But I need you be quiet for now," I murmured as I concentrated my telepathy and both of them obediently obliged with Logan meticulously reducing the volume of the fuzzily buzzing radio in the background.

Are you still alright? I probed worriedly, exponentially drained by the second.

Still holding on, Charles replied, attempting a joking tone to mask his true exhaustion and I let out a brief chuckle at his miserable failure to conceal it from me.