Numbers
For Rogue, it was all about the numbers, all about time.
Thirty seconds, was the delay from when flesh touched flesh, to when it began to draw out the essence of being.
One hour for every minute, was how long she retained any stolen gifts.
An eternity, was how long she kept the memories with her.
Whether she wanted them or not.
Three weeks, if you were lucky, that was how long the coma would last after she touched you.
Unless you were a mutant.
One hundred years, that was how long you had to live, bur without human touch, it may as well have been a thousand.
Three hundred sixty-five days in a year.
Twenty-four hours in a day.
Sixty minutes in an hour.
Sixty seconds in a minute.
Twelve months in a year.
Seven days in a week.
Forever, was how long she would remain trapped inside the cruel irony of her flesh prison.
Every second of every day, was how long she felt alone.
The rest of her life and beyond, was how long she would pay for being what she was.
Rogue was always good at math, and this way why.
How she hated numbers.
She's broken every clock, but the world still ran on a schedule.
A way of keeping time….
Time meant nothing to Logan, a century could just as easily be a minute.
He had all the time in the world.
Numbers had little meaning to him.
One minute.
Sixty small seconds.
Twice a day, for the rest of his long life.
He would slowly bleed it away, any way she wanted him to.
For him, time meant nothing.
For her, in those scarce moments.
It meant everything.
Maybe she didn't hate numbers all the time.
Two minutes.
One hundred twelve seconds, she could use any way she wanted.
Two minutes.
Thirty seconds.
To anyone else they were insignificant.
But to her.
They were the difference between being dead and being alive.