Author's note: This is my first ever fanfic, but I was convinced by the lovely NotMarge to publish this and give it a go. A few notes: I started writing this after Nicholas Hoult divulged that Beast turns all fuzzy and blue when he gets worked up, so I thought his serum only reversed his second mutation rather than completely repressing his X-gene. And by the time I saw the movie (which was fantastic!) I liked it too much to change it. So that's Beast. Also, Sean is alive and Moira found her way back to Charles, because... I wanted them to? I guess I'm making the rules here in this little world. Like I said, first ever fic, so criticism is welcome, and praise more so. Thank you for at least giving it a try.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything X-Men, but boy do I ever wish I could own Nicholas Hoult.

First Sight

The moment I saw her, I knew I was a goner. Zoey Dubois made a place for herself in my heart the moment she stepped into Marceline's Bookstore & Cafe, and she has never left.

It was a cold late-February day in Salem Center, New York when Zoey walked into my life. It was a Tuesday, and Charles had kicked me out of the lab. He claimed that beakers and test tubes were a poor substitute for human contact. Even if I didn't speak to anyone, I had to go outside.

Outside.

For five and a half years, going outside of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters for any reason other than missions had been an impossibility for me. I was a self-admitted recluse, unwilling to be involved in a human world where everyone would be terrified of me.

I was a mutant, see. I'd been born with huge prehensile feet that had been the bane of my existence for most of my life. They set me apart, made me stick out. As I got older it became apparent that with the feet came increased speed and agility.

All I wanted was to blend in, be normal. I wanted to be known for what I'd done, rather than what I was.

So when I got the chance to try to change, I took it. I attempted to make a serum from the genes of a shape-shifting mutant named Raven Darkholme. It should've made the physical manifestation of my mutation- and hers- disappear.

Thinking about her, even after six years, still hurt.

My serum backfired. It generated a second mutation that turned me into a monster, complete with claws, fangs, and blue fur. Outwardly, I looked like a "beast." It's where I got my code name from. And inwardly, I was just as bad. A whole new set of instincts manifested that it took years for me to repress. I was a feral mutant now.

Six months ago I made a serum that restored me to a sort of normalcy. As long as I kept calm, I looked much the same as I did before my second mutation. But any time I got angry, or felt an animalistic instinct, I burst into a huge blue monster.

Since then Charles- my mentor, and the leader of the X-Men- had been pushing me to get out more, with limited success- especially considering my fears of losing control and going into "Beast mode." The habits ingrained in me for over five years were proving difficult to break.

Hence, my presence in the cafe that day. He'd kicked me out of the laboratory and told me not to come back until dinner time, threatening mind-control if I didn't comply. I didn't honestly believe Charles would do that (he was very scrupulous in the use of his telepathy) but I didn't want to test him.

The cafe was the first place I'd spotted that I could spend some time in and go unnoticed for a while. A random decision that affected my entire life.

I bought a regular coffee (and added a ton of sugar) and sat down to read a book and people-watch. I was re-reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. The shop was perhaps half-full.

There. I could do this.

Look, I'm being normal.

I'd been sitting there for only fifteen minutes or so when the tinkling of the bell on the entrance door vaguely got my attention. I glanced up reflexively-

And froze.

The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen had just stepped through the door. It was as if a lightning bolt came down and struck me where I sat, or Eros had snuck up and shot me with a dart of love.

I instantly became infatuated with her as she walked by me to the counter. The way her full, cherry-red lips were curved into a sweet smile for seemingly no reason at all, how her waist-length iridescent hair curled and grazed along her delicate cheekbones, brushing against her slightly sun-kissed, flawless skin- every bit of her was utterly captivating.

"Hello, Billy. I'll have my usual, please," the girl- woman? Her age was hard to place- told the man behind the counter once she reached it.

Unfortunately her back was to me at the moment. But her voice... it was high, clear, and sweet. To my twitterpated mind it sounded like music.

"Coming right up," the middle-aged man, Billy, replied. He gave her a avuncular smile. "How's Olivia?"

"Driving her mom crazy. Same old, same old," the girl laughed. It sounded like bells. "How's Marceline?"

"She's just in the back, baking away. Same old, same old."

So she was obviously a regular customer, if she knew the owners by name and had a "usual" beverage. I wondered who Olivia was?

The girl paid with money pulled from the pocket of the rather well-used book bag she had slung over her shoulder. I found myself hoping that she would sit where I would be able to see her face.

Thankfully, she did.

After Billy had made her drink, the girl sat in a seat by the window, facing me. She took off her jacket, revealing a petite hourglass figure clothed in a long-sleeved sweater dress that highlighted her tiny waist. The weak winter sunlight streaming in caught the facets of her hair and made it look as if a halo of light surrounded her head. Like the angel she resembled.

Her face was slightly angular and heart-shaped, with an intelligent forehead and delicately arched eyebrows. The girl's hair was fascinating. Iridescent, shifting from blood red through rose gold to white-blonde, like flames dancing in the light. Her large eyes were absolutely stunning. I could see from my spot, three tables away, that they were as green as emeralds and framed by long, dark, thick lashes. So, so beautiful.

I found myself staring at her, my book held loosely in my hand and completely forgotten, while she settled in. A heavy textbook appeared on her table. I caught sight of the front as she set it down- it was a genetics text. College level. Next came a highlighter and a pen.

She was left-handed, and liked to chew on her pen caps. And play with her hair. She also crossed and re-crossed her ankles quite a bit. Even when she was trying to sit still, she was fidgety. I thought it was cute, of course. To my infatuated brain even the most mundane actions took on an enthralling quality.

Her expressions were fascinating to watch, too. Sometimes she wore a frown of concentration, but mostly that soft smile was on her face. It was like her mouth was made for smiling.

The girl sighed and looked up, her eyes sweeping the room. I was quick enough to look back at my book before she saw me staring at her, but it was a close call.

I stayed there until six, long after I had drained my coffee cup. By then I needed to leave for dinner, having fulfilled Charles' obligation for human contact. The girl was still there, studying away.

It took me less than ten minutes to run home, once I was out of sight of the town. I had just enough time to change my shoes before dinner was served.

"Ah, Hank. How'd your little adventure go?" Charles asked when I took my seat at the table.

I shrugged. "Fine."

"Was it really all that bad?"

"No..." I replied, thinking of the red-headed girl. "It wasn't."