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ax_mainWhen T'Challa was able to convince his parents to let him go to New York with Shuri for a week to celebrate his birthday, he was looking forward to the trip for more than one reason. It's too bad Yorkland changed all of their plans.
"When father said we could come to New York for the first time, I thought we'd see something better than the inside of a not-so-fancy hotel." Shuri had enjoyed the drive through the city itself, but since then, she and her brother had been locked up under the careful care of the Dora Milaje...
Which wasn't so bad, because at least someone entertaining was around, but come on. The hotel didn't even have holographic displays! Colonizers were no fun.
"Like see Hamilton," she offered. "Instead we're just waiting around for your friend." She smirked a little.
"We are in one of America's most exciting cities," T'Challa reminded, sliding through the clothes hung in his closet to choose an appropriate outfit. He knew all of his choices already, and he usually liked his wardrobe. But for some reason, nothing he looked at now felt right. Too traditional. Too dark. Too serious. They were too much of everything, or else not quite enough. "For a whole week. We will find time for shows and shopping and whatever else you would like." He turned back to his sister and gave her his best attempt at their mother's you were raised with better manners than this look, even though he knew not to expect the same results for himself. "But I have not seen Ororo in quite a while, and I would not miss the chance to catch up with her in person."
He tried to ignore Shuri's mocking smirk. She made it very difficult.
“Look, I’m not saying Wakanda depends on it,” Shuri said, far too sweetly not to be meant ironically. “I’m just saying... I think you like her.”
T'Challa turned back to the closet, reaching in and taking a shirt at last. "You will like her too," he suggested, deliberately choosing the more innocent meaning of the word.
Shuri looked at him for one long moment. Then grinned. “I wonder... will you freeze?”
"What are you talking about?" He was suddenly quite intent on choosing the pants to go with the shirt, not wanting to look back and give her any encouragement. "I never freeze."
“She’s pretty, right?” Shuri continued smirking and watched his little act with amusement. Boys. “I’ll bet you freeze.”
T'Challa sighed as he chose his shoes and socks. "Maybe next time I travel abroad, I will leave my baby sister at home."
"If you try it, I will call you ever five minutes on your beads, and you'll know no peace." Shuri threatened, grinning. "Besides, who would warn you not to freeze if I wasn't here?"
"No one," T'Challa answered easily. "Which is the point."
Shuri leaned back on a wardrobe and crossed her arms over her belly, laughing quietly. “Then who would say I told you so, after? No, no, I’m cheering for you, my prince.”
Her brother moved to shoo her out the door. "Why don't you cheer for me in your own room? I need to get changed."
* * *
Ororo hadn't set foot in a hotel this fancy since... well, since the last time she had seen T'Challa. She had certainly never done so in New York, and it had thrown her for a loop, suddenly wondering what she should wear all over again. She still had that dress she'd stolen to wear for him, in Nairobi. But she kept it as a souvenir, rather than as an actual wardrobe option (especially in this weather, as it would've drawn stares), and she didn't want to pretend to be any different than who she was.
So here she was, in the elevator of that luxury hotel, dressed in gray jeans, combat boots, a long-sleeved tee and a secondhand leather jacket. She checked her reflection in the elevator mirror to make sure her hawk wasn't all over the place. What would T'Challa make of it? She wasn't sure she'd ever mentioned it to him. Or sent him a selfie, since. She probably should have. Were her palms sweaty? She wiped them on her jeans to be safe. She wasn't sure what she was nervous about. Seeing T'Challa again, or meeting his sister he loved so much? She sounded amazing, and Ororo knew for a fact that he was, so there was no reason to be nervous.
When the elevator reached the appropriate floor, she walked down the hallway with a confident stride, casually looking around for the Dora Milaje before coming to a stop in front of the right room. She knocked on it, her heart beating double time inside her chest.
At the knock, Shoko lifted her kimoyo beads encircling her wrist, hand signaling and tapping one of them until it glowed to scan the person on the other side of the door. She nodded to Akawe afterward, who then moved forward to open the door with ceremonial spear in hand. Both of the Dora kept even expressions as they allowed Ororo Munroe entry, though Akawe may have looked pointedly at the girl's mohawk. Perhaps the bald, head-tattooed warrior women had little room to criticize hairstyles, but neither commented on it.
"Your guest, My Prince," Shoko announced instead, the Dora stepping back to unobtrusively flank the entrance.
T'Challa waited patiently with Shuri in the entertaining area just beyond the door, rising from a couch in the outfit that had required some consideration to stand. He had a greeting and an introduction planned in advance, not wanting to prove his sister right, but... It completely escaped him when he saw Ororo. She was at once the person he remembered, the person he thought about when he texted her, and... Someone become different.
He wasn't saying anything. He was supposed to be saying something. "You...changed your hair," T'Challa managed, though it was not at all what he had planned.
Shuri smiles, bright eyed, at their visitor. Then smirked at her brother. “That could’ve been worse. I’m impressed.”
It could've been better, Ororo thought, and might have said if they had been alone. She resisted the urge to reach up and feel her mohawk, make sure it looked okay. "I changed my hair," she echoed instead. A beat went by, during which she held T'Challa's gaze, but then she forced herself to look away from him. She smiled at Shuri. "Hi," she told her, warmly. "It's so nice to finally meet you."
And it really was. T'Challa had said a great many things about his sister, and Ororo was looking forward to finding out if she measured up.
Yes. Introductions. They had more or less been made already, but... It was better for T'Challa to spend time acquainting them properly than to stand there wondering how soft Ororo's mohawk could be under his fingers with so much hair product.
"Shuri heard that I was going to New York City for my birthday and would not miss the chance to see it for herself." There was a hint of beleaguered older brother in it, but only just. He could not help smiling at Shuri with his eyes, her cheeky running commentary and all. "And I met Ororo during a trip to Nairobi." He left enough room in his words for Ororo to decide what she wanted Shuri to know about her.
Shuri's smile might've been considered "obnoxiously knowing". "So I hear. It's so nice to meet you, Ororo." She crossed her arms over her chest without thinking in the Wakandan salute.
It wasn't the first time Ororo saw the salute, but it was her first time performing it in return. She hoped she didn't make a mess of it as she respectfully returned it, a small smile on her lips. "I'm not supposed to ask what else you heard, am I?"
Light teasing was the best way to deal with how much she wanted to walk over to T'Challa and hug him. And, possibly, not let go for a while. She wouldn't have fought the urge if they had been alone, but this didn't feel like the right room for it.
He didn't say so, but T'Challa was surprised that Shuri had given Ororo their salute. It was for their people, between their people. Maybe it was reflex, or jet lag, but...it seemed significant. It was enough to snap him out of his - what had Shuri called it? His 'bluescreen' expression?
"The thought of you two gossiping is scary," T'Challa suggested.
Suddenly he became very aware of how stiffly he was standing there, the well-fitted clothes somehow seeming to tug and chafe, which parts of him were sweaty, and how far he still was from Ororo. He forced himself to breathe, to smile, to cross the distance and offer her a hug in welcome. "I missed you," he admitted quietly.
Shuri, grinning hugely, took a few steps back toward the door. Still watching, but about to make a quick exit. There was only so much trolling even she could do... in front of Ororo, anyhow. She had respect for her--and, okay, also for her brother, though she'd never say it outright.
Oh, hug. Okay, hug. Ororo wrapped her arms around T'Challa, very aware of Shuri's presence a few feet from them, but she was powerless to do anything but hug him back in kind, tight and warm... and, as predicted, unwilling to let go of him for a little while. Especially when he whispered things like that. "I missed you too," she told him, slipping back in Arabic for that quiet murmur. Her eyes were closed, so she could better focus on the feel of him, so strong, warm and steady. Everything she associated with him, and oh, how she had missed him.
Ororo squeezed him tight, then reluctantly pulled back. The way her hands lingered on his arms until the last possible moment and her soft, apologetic smile hopefully made it clear that she did not want to be releasing him. But his sister was there - although she had stepped towards the door, Ororo now saw. If Shuri intended to step out, Ororo could only be grateful for that, to be perfectly honest. She would welcome some time alone with T'Challa, but she also wanted to get to know his sister. "Are you two free for dinner tonight?"
Holding Ororo felt... And he thought that in the way she looked back at him... "Yes, we are," T'Challa agreed with perhaps more enthusiasm than he intended. He turned back to where his sister lingered by the door. "Shuri, why don't you go choose a restaurant and secure us a reservation?"
With an impish little smile tugging at her lips, Shuri gave a small mock bow and finally slipped through the door. She was going to tease him so much... but she'd wait until Ororo was gone. Probably.
As the door closed on Shuri, Ororo turned back to T'Challa, paused for just a moment, then stepped close to hug him again. There was no restraint to the hug now, no reason to hold her emotion at bay, and it somehow managed to be warmer and stronger than it had been when Tchalla's sister had been in the room with him. Eventually, it eased, but Ororo showed no sign of stepping back, or away. Her head was still resting on his shoulder as she asked, switching back to Arabic, "Do you hate the hair?"
T'Challa was holding more than hugging by then, relaxing to feel reassurance and other things less easily defined to have her so close to him. So much so that he was momentarily confused by her words, until he could remind himself of what she meant.
"It's a bold choice. I like that you went for it, and it suits you." He did miss her hair worn long and soft, he supposed, because that was how he remembered it. But that was then, and this was a heady now. "You are still full of surprises, aren't you?"
"I'm an open book," Ororo retorted, gently chiding him. So she hadn't told him about her hair. She'd told him everything else. Everything that had not made her feel like a nervous twelve-years-old scared that the boy she liked might not find her pretty anymore. "You're the mysterious one." From the mysterious country. But she did not mind that; he would tell her things when he could, she trusted. He had responsibilities to an entire country. What was she compared to that? So her words were fond as she said so, making it clear that it was no reproach.
She leaned back enough to look into his face and smiled at him, still somewhat unsure where they stood. But there was one thing she knew. "It is so good to see you again."
"Surprises and mysteries keep things interesting," T'Challa suggested. He did not mind hers, and he was glad if she did not mind his. He noticed her expectant look, but he wasn't sure what else he could say.
He took one of her hands with his instead, giving it a squeeze. "How are things at your school?"
The moment passed, with his question, and she shifted gears, taking an emotional step back. "All right. Quiet, for now." Her thumb stroked his fingers. "It's a nice change."
Ororo had told him much about her special school. She had also told him about the group called the Right that had abducted and conducted cruel experiments on other young mutants. The news had reported on the proven connection between the Right and the Friends of Humanity only after Ororo's schoolmates had been returned to Xavier's following the most recent struggle between them. T'Challa didn't suppose he knew very much about the school, but he respected what they seemed to be doing in training young mutants to resist oppression.
He nodded. "Thank you for coming to visit while I am in New York with Shuri."
"That was not a question," Ororo replied, softly, but steadily. Her heart felt so fluttery around him, no matter how much she might try to steel herself. It was the price to pay for hope, and she would happily pay it three times over. "The question is, how much time will you have for me?"
He was the prince of Wakanda, and heir to the throne. She did not expect him to have much time for her at all, on a short, and his first, visit to New York. But perhaps a few stolen hours on his birthday, on top of dinner tonight? And, who knew, maybe even another evening, so that Jean might get the double date she wanted. Although there was the matter of Shuri to consider.
"There are several appointments to keep and visits to make," he admitted. It was a rare opportunity to be so far from home in such a notable city that he had hurried to agree with his father's requests. "But as I was just telling my sister, we are here for the week. And whatever we choose to do with our time here... I will find time for you," he promised, his eyes searching for hers. "Come with us to see the city?"
That he would be busy had been expected, but his promise to find time to her, that mattered more to Ororo than anything else. She smiled, and nodded, hoping that he would find whatever he was looking for in her eyes. "Whenever you would like." She was certain Xavier would forgive her a little truancy. And if he didn't, she would attend however much detention he would see fit. It would be worth it. She paused, then added, "My friend, Jean. She would like to meet you while you're here." She smiled again, this time shameless and amused. "I might have been talking you up all this time."
"And I would like to meet your friend Jean." It was good, but strange, the prospect of meeting her school friends. Ororo had told him a great deal about them, but that was different from meeting them in person. "What great expectations am I going to be expected to live up to?"
"Nothing you won't naturally live up to, I promise," Ororo replied, smile easing with his agreement. They were among the most important people in the world to her. She wanted them to meet, and love each other, in due course. "For one thing, you're still incredibly handsome." A tease and a truth, all at once.
"Careful. If you put me on too high a pedestal, I might fall off if it some day. And eat dirt when it happens." It was as much tease and truth. He liked that she thought he was handsome, and he liked that she would tell him so. T'Challa also selfishly liked that she hadn't found a boyfriend, even if... It wasn't a good idea to start thinking that way. "I can almost guarantee that Shuri will make a recording of it."
"I don't want to deprive Shuri of a quality video, but what makes you think the pedestal is all that high?" Ororo pointed out, lips curving into a smirk. "I think that's arrogance, T'Challa." It felt so right to be here, holding his hand and teasing him again.
There was so much more Ororo wanted to be doing with him again. She would have asked him if she could kiss him, but they were supposed to go to dinner together, with Shuri, and what if he said no? Things would be unnecessarily awkward. Best to keep it for the end of the night, and hope for the best.
This was a game they were playing, so T'Challa paid her back with his best imperious look. He didn't wear it often (not with her), but when he did put it on it was actually quite good. He was royalty, after all. "Arrogance? I call it being incredibly handsome."
Ororo laughed, good-natured and so very, very glad to see him again. "I call it arrogance," she said, that last word in heavily accented Xhosa. It was entirely possible that she had been learning the language, in the past year. This would likely only feed his ego, but she did not mind. She liked him just the way he was, ego included.
"Aweh," it was a sound of excitement and surprise more than a formal word, and he smiled into it where he looked at her. There was little doubt what she had said, even if her accent was strange. Ukuzidla, studded with click consonants, didn't quite roll off of the tongue accidentally. "Listen to you, miss thing! Who has been teaching you Xhosa?"
"I've been taking online classes," Ororo admitted. Outside of her regular online classes, that was. "It has been slow-going. I try to speak it with Ainet sometimes, but she will be the first to tell you she could never wrap her mouth around that language. It... has been slow-going. I understand better than I speak it?"
"Anyone that tells you they can speak a new language before they can understand it is either lying or else very confused." His expression softened where he watched her. Was she really learning his language? She had just finished calling him arrogant, and maybe she was right, but... Why else would she learn to speak it, if not to speak it with him? "You must be especially fond of Shuri, to go to such trouble."
Ororo smiled at him, frankly amused. "She's definitely worth the effort."
He reflected a smile back at her for a long moment, uncertain which of the things he wanted to do and wanted to say he should do or say. T'Challa debated for long enough that the moment was passing him by.
"She's definitely timing us," he finally said. Because she was just in the next room (not to mention the Dora), and because he had promised they would go out together. And because what he wanted and what he thought was right seemed to be different things when it was just him and Ororo. "We should go see what she's decided for dinner."
There was a moment, and Ororo studied his face all through it, wishing that she might know what was going on in his mind. And then the moment passed, and she thought that she had been right not to ask. He was, at best, uncertain, when it came to her. Her heart was heavy, and her smile smaller, as she nodded along to his excuse. "Of course." She squeezed his hand, then released it.
"When father said we could come to New York for the first time, I thought we'd see something better than the inside of a not-so-fancy hotel." Shuri had enjoyed the drive through the city itself, but since then, she and her brother had been locked up under the careful care of the Dora Milaje...
Which wasn't so bad, because at least someone entertaining was around, but come on. The hotel didn't even have holographic displays! Colonizers were no fun.
"Like see Hamilton," she offered. "Instead we're just waiting around for your friend." She smirked a little.
"We are in one of America's most exciting cities," T'Challa reminded, sliding through the clothes hung in his closet to choose an appropriate outfit. He knew all of his choices already, and he usually liked his wardrobe. But for some reason, nothing he looked at now felt right. Too traditional. Too dark. Too serious. They were too much of everything, or else not quite enough. "For a whole week. We will find time for shows and shopping and whatever else you would like." He turned back to his sister and gave her his best attempt at their mother's you were raised with better manners than this look, even though he knew not to expect the same results for himself. "But I have not seen Ororo in quite a while, and I would not miss the chance to catch up with her in person."
He tried to ignore Shuri's mocking smirk. She made it very difficult.
“Look, I’m not saying Wakanda depends on it,” Shuri said, far too sweetly not to be meant ironically. “I’m just saying... I think you like her.”
T'Challa turned back to the closet, reaching in and taking a shirt at last. "You will like her too," he suggested, deliberately choosing the more innocent meaning of the word.
Shuri looked at him for one long moment. Then grinned. “I wonder... will you freeze?”
"What are you talking about?" He was suddenly quite intent on choosing the pants to go with the shirt, not wanting to look back and give her any encouragement. "I never freeze."
“She’s pretty, right?” Shuri continued smirking and watched his little act with amusement. Boys. “I’ll bet you freeze.”
T'Challa sighed as he chose his shoes and socks. "Maybe next time I travel abroad, I will leave my baby sister at home."
"If you try it, I will call you ever five minutes on your beads, and you'll know no peace." Shuri threatened, grinning. "Besides, who would warn you not to freeze if I wasn't here?"
"No one," T'Challa answered easily. "Which is the point."
Shuri leaned back on a wardrobe and crossed her arms over her belly, laughing quietly. “Then who would say I told you so, after? No, no, I’m cheering for you, my prince.”
Her brother moved to shoo her out the door. "Why don't you cheer for me in your own room? I need to get changed."
Ororo hadn't set foot in a hotel this fancy since... well, since the last time she had seen T'Challa. She had certainly never done so in New York, and it had thrown her for a loop, suddenly wondering what she should wear all over again. She still had that dress she'd stolen to wear for him, in Nairobi. But she kept it as a souvenir, rather than as an actual wardrobe option (especially in this weather, as it would've drawn stares), and she didn't want to pretend to be any different than who she was.
So here she was, in the elevator of that luxury hotel, dressed in gray jeans, combat boots, a long-sleeved tee and a secondhand leather jacket. She checked her reflection in the elevator mirror to make sure her hawk wasn't all over the place. What would T'Challa make of it? She wasn't sure she'd ever mentioned it to him. Or sent him a selfie, since. She probably should have. Were her palms sweaty? She wiped them on her jeans to be safe. She wasn't sure what she was nervous about. Seeing T'Challa again, or meeting his sister he loved so much? She sounded amazing, and Ororo knew for a fact that he was, so there was no reason to be nervous.
When the elevator reached the appropriate floor, she walked down the hallway with a confident stride, casually looking around for the Dora Milaje before coming to a stop in front of the right room. She knocked on it, her heart beating double time inside her chest.
At the knock, Shoko lifted her kimoyo beads encircling her wrist, hand signaling and tapping one of them until it glowed to scan the person on the other side of the door. She nodded to Akawe afterward, who then moved forward to open the door with ceremonial spear in hand. Both of the Dora kept even expressions as they allowed Ororo Munroe entry, though Akawe may have looked pointedly at the girl's mohawk. Perhaps the bald, head-tattooed warrior women had little room to criticize hairstyles, but neither commented on it.
"Your guest, My Prince," Shoko announced instead, the Dora stepping back to unobtrusively flank the entrance.
T'Challa waited patiently with Shuri in the entertaining area just beyond the door, rising from a couch in the outfit that had required some consideration to stand. He had a greeting and an introduction planned in advance, not wanting to prove his sister right, but... It completely escaped him when he saw Ororo. She was at once the person he remembered, the person he thought about when he texted her, and... Someone become different.
He wasn't saying anything. He was supposed to be saying something. "You...changed your hair," T'Challa managed, though it was not at all what he had planned.
Shuri smiles, bright eyed, at their visitor. Then smirked at her brother. “That could’ve been worse. I’m impressed.”
It could've been better, Ororo thought, and might have said if they had been alone. She resisted the urge to reach up and feel her mohawk, make sure it looked okay. "I changed my hair," she echoed instead. A beat went by, during which she held T'Challa's gaze, but then she forced herself to look away from him. She smiled at Shuri. "Hi," she told her, warmly. "It's so nice to finally meet you."
And it really was. T'Challa had said a great many things about his sister, and Ororo was looking forward to finding out if she measured up.
Yes. Introductions. They had more or less been made already, but... It was better for T'Challa to spend time acquainting them properly than to stand there wondering how soft Ororo's mohawk could be under his fingers with so much hair product.
"Shuri heard that I was going to New York City for my birthday and would not miss the chance to see it for herself." There was a hint of beleaguered older brother in it, but only just. He could not help smiling at Shuri with his eyes, her cheeky running commentary and all. "And I met Ororo during a trip to Nairobi." He left enough room in his words for Ororo to decide what she wanted Shuri to know about her.
Shuri's smile might've been considered "obnoxiously knowing". "So I hear. It's so nice to meet you, Ororo." She crossed her arms over her chest without thinking in the Wakandan salute.
It wasn't the first time Ororo saw the salute, but it was her first time performing it in return. She hoped she didn't make a mess of it as she respectfully returned it, a small smile on her lips. "I'm not supposed to ask what else you heard, am I?"
Light teasing was the best way to deal with how much she wanted to walk over to T'Challa and hug him. And, possibly, not let go for a while. She wouldn't have fought the urge if they had been alone, but this didn't feel like the right room for it.
He didn't say so, but T'Challa was surprised that Shuri had given Ororo their salute. It was for their people, between their people. Maybe it was reflex, or jet lag, but...it seemed significant. It was enough to snap him out of his - what had Shuri called it? His 'bluescreen' expression?
"The thought of you two gossiping is scary," T'Challa suggested.
Suddenly he became very aware of how stiffly he was standing there, the well-fitted clothes somehow seeming to tug and chafe, which parts of him were sweaty, and how far he still was from Ororo. He forced himself to breathe, to smile, to cross the distance and offer her a hug in welcome. "I missed you," he admitted quietly.
Shuri, grinning hugely, took a few steps back toward the door. Still watching, but about to make a quick exit. There was only so much trolling even she could do... in front of Ororo, anyhow. She had respect for her--and, okay, also for her brother, though she'd never say it outright.
Oh, hug. Okay, hug. Ororo wrapped her arms around T'Challa, very aware of Shuri's presence a few feet from them, but she was powerless to do anything but hug him back in kind, tight and warm... and, as predicted, unwilling to let go of him for a little while. Especially when he whispered things like that. "I missed you too," she told him, slipping back in Arabic for that quiet murmur. Her eyes were closed, so she could better focus on the feel of him, so strong, warm and steady. Everything she associated with him, and oh, how she had missed him.
Ororo squeezed him tight, then reluctantly pulled back. The way her hands lingered on his arms until the last possible moment and her soft, apologetic smile hopefully made it clear that she did not want to be releasing him. But his sister was there - although she had stepped towards the door, Ororo now saw. If Shuri intended to step out, Ororo could only be grateful for that, to be perfectly honest. She would welcome some time alone with T'Challa, but she also wanted to get to know his sister. "Are you two free for dinner tonight?"
Holding Ororo felt... And he thought that in the way she looked back at him... "Yes, we are," T'Challa agreed with perhaps more enthusiasm than he intended. He turned back to where his sister lingered by the door. "Shuri, why don't you go choose a restaurant and secure us a reservation?"
With an impish little smile tugging at her lips, Shuri gave a small mock bow and finally slipped through the door. She was going to tease him so much... but she'd wait until Ororo was gone. Probably.
As the door closed on Shuri, Ororo turned back to T'Challa, paused for just a moment, then stepped close to hug him again. There was no restraint to the hug now, no reason to hold her emotion at bay, and it somehow managed to be warmer and stronger than it had been when Tchalla's sister had been in the room with him. Eventually, it eased, but Ororo showed no sign of stepping back, or away. Her head was still resting on his shoulder as she asked, switching back to Arabic, "Do you hate the hair?"
T'Challa was holding more than hugging by then, relaxing to feel reassurance and other things less easily defined to have her so close to him. So much so that he was momentarily confused by her words, until he could remind himself of what she meant.
"It's a bold choice. I like that you went for it, and it suits you." He did miss her hair worn long and soft, he supposed, because that was how he remembered it. But that was then, and this was a heady now. "You are still full of surprises, aren't you?"
"I'm an open book," Ororo retorted, gently chiding him. So she hadn't told him about her hair. She'd told him everything else. Everything that had not made her feel like a nervous twelve-years-old scared that the boy she liked might not find her pretty anymore. "You're the mysterious one." From the mysterious country. But she did not mind that; he would tell her things when he could, she trusted. He had responsibilities to an entire country. What was she compared to that? So her words were fond as she said so, making it clear that it was no reproach.
She leaned back enough to look into his face and smiled at him, still somewhat unsure where they stood. But there was one thing she knew. "It is so good to see you again."
"Surprises and mysteries keep things interesting," T'Challa suggested. He did not mind hers, and he was glad if she did not mind his. He noticed her expectant look, but he wasn't sure what else he could say.
He took one of her hands with his instead, giving it a squeeze. "How are things at your school?"
The moment passed, with his question, and she shifted gears, taking an emotional step back. "All right. Quiet, for now." Her thumb stroked his fingers. "It's a nice change."
Ororo had told him much about her special school. She had also told him about the group called the Right that had abducted and conducted cruel experiments on other young mutants. The news had reported on the proven connection between the Right and the Friends of Humanity only after Ororo's schoolmates had been returned to Xavier's following the most recent struggle between them. T'Challa didn't suppose he knew very much about the school, but he respected what they seemed to be doing in training young mutants to resist oppression.
He nodded. "Thank you for coming to visit while I am in New York with Shuri."
"That was not a question," Ororo replied, softly, but steadily. Her heart felt so fluttery around him, no matter how much she might try to steel herself. It was the price to pay for hope, and she would happily pay it three times over. "The question is, how much time will you have for me?"
He was the prince of Wakanda, and heir to the throne. She did not expect him to have much time for her at all, on a short, and his first, visit to New York. But perhaps a few stolen hours on his birthday, on top of dinner tonight? And, who knew, maybe even another evening, so that Jean might get the double date she wanted. Although there was the matter of Shuri to consider.
"There are several appointments to keep and visits to make," he admitted. It was a rare opportunity to be so far from home in such a notable city that he had hurried to agree with his father's requests. "But as I was just telling my sister, we are here for the week. And whatever we choose to do with our time here... I will find time for you," he promised, his eyes searching for hers. "Come with us to see the city?"
That he would be busy had been expected, but his promise to find time to her, that mattered more to Ororo than anything else. She smiled, and nodded, hoping that he would find whatever he was looking for in her eyes. "Whenever you would like." She was certain Xavier would forgive her a little truancy. And if he didn't, she would attend however much detention he would see fit. It would be worth it. She paused, then added, "My friend, Jean. She would like to meet you while you're here." She smiled again, this time shameless and amused. "I might have been talking you up all this time."
"And I would like to meet your friend Jean." It was good, but strange, the prospect of meeting her school friends. Ororo had told him a great deal about them, but that was different from meeting them in person. "What great expectations am I going to be expected to live up to?"
"Nothing you won't naturally live up to, I promise," Ororo replied, smile easing with his agreement. They were among the most important people in the world to her. She wanted them to meet, and love each other, in due course. "For one thing, you're still incredibly handsome." A tease and a truth, all at once.
"Careful. If you put me on too high a pedestal, I might fall off if it some day. And eat dirt when it happens." It was as much tease and truth. He liked that she thought he was handsome, and he liked that she would tell him so. T'Challa also selfishly liked that she hadn't found a boyfriend, even if... It wasn't a good idea to start thinking that way. "I can almost guarantee that Shuri will make a recording of it."
"I don't want to deprive Shuri of a quality video, but what makes you think the pedestal is all that high?" Ororo pointed out, lips curving into a smirk. "I think that's arrogance, T'Challa." It felt so right to be here, holding his hand and teasing him again.
There was so much more Ororo wanted to be doing with him again. She would have asked him if she could kiss him, but they were supposed to go to dinner together, with Shuri, and what if he said no? Things would be unnecessarily awkward. Best to keep it for the end of the night, and hope for the best.
This was a game they were playing, so T'Challa paid her back with his best imperious look. He didn't wear it often (not with her), but when he did put it on it was actually quite good. He was royalty, after all. "Arrogance? I call it being incredibly handsome."
Ororo laughed, good-natured and so very, very glad to see him again. "I call it arrogance," she said, that last word in heavily accented Xhosa. It was entirely possible that she had been learning the language, in the past year. This would likely only feed his ego, but she did not mind. She liked him just the way he was, ego included.
"Aweh," it was a sound of excitement and surprise more than a formal word, and he smiled into it where he looked at her. There was little doubt what she had said, even if her accent was strange. Ukuzidla, studded with click consonants, didn't quite roll off of the tongue accidentally. "Listen to you, miss thing! Who has been teaching you Xhosa?"
"I've been taking online classes," Ororo admitted. Outside of her regular online classes, that was. "It has been slow-going. I try to speak it with Ainet sometimes, but she will be the first to tell you she could never wrap her mouth around that language. It... has been slow-going. I understand better than I speak it?"
"Anyone that tells you they can speak a new language before they can understand it is either lying or else very confused." His expression softened where he watched her. Was she really learning his language? She had just finished calling him arrogant, and maybe she was right, but... Why else would she learn to speak it, if not to speak it with him? "You must be especially fond of Shuri, to go to such trouble."
Ororo smiled at him, frankly amused. "She's definitely worth the effort."
He reflected a smile back at her for a long moment, uncertain which of the things he wanted to do and wanted to say he should do or say. T'Challa debated for long enough that the moment was passing him by.
"She's definitely timing us," he finally said. Because she was just in the next room (not to mention the Dora), and because he had promised they would go out together. And because what he wanted and what he thought was right seemed to be different things when it was just him and Ororo. "We should go see what she's decided for dinner."
There was a moment, and Ororo studied his face all through it, wishing that she might know what was going on in his mind. And then the moment passed, and she thought that she had been right not to ask. He was, at best, uncertain, when it came to her. Her heart was heavy, and her smile smaller, as she nodded along to his excuse. "Of course." She squeezed his hand, then released it.
