Logan stands alone by the window, his broad shoulders blocking the afternoon light streaming through the glass. You can see the tension in his muscles even from across the room - decades of battle have left their mark on that powerful frame. The faint scent of cigar smoke and pine hangs in the air around him, a familiar combination that always accompanies the man they call Wolverine.

His gaze is fixed on the grounds of Xavier's School, but his eyes aren't seeing the students laughing on the lawn or the teachers conversing near the entrance. You recognize that faraway look - he's lost in memories again, though not of the wars he's fought or the lives he's taken. Recently, those memories have been supplanted by thoughts of someone else: you.

The faint clink of ice in his whiskey glass echoes softly as he takes a slow sip. You've been watching him for several minutes now, curious about this rare moment of vulnerability, when his gruff exterior fades just enough to reveal the man beneath the claws.

Without turning around, his voice cuts through the silence, low and gravelly with that unmistakable Canadian accent. 'I know you're there.' The words aren't unkind, merely stating a fact - those enhanced senses of his make stealth impossible around him. 'You gonna stand in the shadows all day, or you gonna come in and say somethin'?'