A/N: AAH! It's the frightening world of the Non-Anime! SAVE ME, JEEBUS! But
seriously, folks, I'm scared here. My first Non-Anime fic this be, so
reviews/criticism/aspirin are always appreciated. And as a short
disclaimer, as I've just noticed seems to be the mandatory for most fics;
though I desire to one day, I currently do not own X-men: Evolution,
Marvel, or any of the good legal stuff that goes along with it. That said,
read on… and be afraid… (bwaha)
Butterfly Kisses
Butterflies. Fluttering, buttery-yellow beside buttery-yellow. A bright, red flower standing out among the uncut, spring grass; a convenient perch for the two. Nestling together, looking content, even for insects. A bitter sigh, but not from either of the delicate creatures. Something else.
Rogue watched the two insects wistfully, resting her chin on her knees, which were pulled up to her chest. Was it possible for insects to be in love? No, probably not. Rogue had learned in one of her classes that it was only instinct—the instinct to reproduce—that drove insects toward each other. In the animal world altogether, love and affection were practically nonexistent. In humans, however…
Her thoughts trailed again, focusing once more on the delicate butterflies. Their small antennas, barely noticeable, brushed against the other's antennae. An almost affectionate gesture, Rogue noted. If they were human.
"Rogue!"
Him.
"Rogue?"
Scott was looking for her.
"Hey, Rogue!"
How did he know to look for her here, of all places?
"Hey, there you are!"
He had somehow managed to silently creep behind her, forcing Rogue to leap to her feet in surprise. How had he managed to sound so far off one moment, and be right behind her the next? Rogue turned and sat again, checking to make sure the butterflies she had so carefully been observing had not fled at the sound of Scott's calls. Thankfully, they hadn't, and Rogue smiled to herself.
"So, where'm Ah s'posed to be?" the girl asked, her gaze set on the insects once again.
"Training," Scott responded matter-of-factly, like he always did. He promptly seated himself beside Rogue—close beside Rogue—startling her. "We finished early, though. No one really felt like training, either."
Rogue nodded, not really hearing what he was saying. The butterflies fluttered for a moment, as a brief breeze passed over them; a warm, spring breeze, that made Rogue feel refreshed even on the inside.
"So'd the Professor send you?" Rogue asked, suddenly curious. "And how'd y'know Ah'd be here?"
Scott's normal half-smile appeared at once, and Rogue realized that, even through his dark glasses, his gaze was also set on the buttery insects on the red flower. "No, the Professor didn't send me," he said casually, quickly scanning the meadow they rested in. "I was just kind of concerned that you didn't show up to training."
Concerned? Scott? No, couldn't be! The sarcasm bell played loudly in Rogue's head. Of course Mr. Perfect Leader would be concerned, Rogue or not.
"And I don't know how I knew you'd be here," Scott continued thoughtfully, pulling his knees up to his chest in almost the same manner as Rogue. "It was the first place I looked. Maybe I've got some kind of instinct." He grinned at his own comment, his gaze still set on the butterflies, whose small wings were now rubbing against each other. So much like humans. Instinct had brought those two together, and Scott had joked that it was instinct that had brought him to Rogue. This made her wonder, briefly.
The butterflies changed positions, to where their antennae were rubbing against each other again. Feeling each other, as if they were really caring. Beside her, Scott let out a soft chuckle, drawing Rogue's attention from the tiny insects.
"Funny," he commented softly, a soft smile on his face; one Rogue had seen only rarely. "It's almost their way of kissing, isn't it?"
Rogue found herself blinking at him in disbelief, close to a slight embarrassment. This? Coming from Mr. Perfect Leader? She gawked at him for a moment, then abruptly turned back to the butterflies. Sure enough, she realized that his unusual observation had been right; she noticed it, too.
"As if they were in love..." His voice was even softer this time, but Rogue thought that it felt strangely closer. Turning her head to face him once more, she found that Scott was also returning her stare; Rogue could feel it, even through his glasses. There was something strange in his look; she quickly ignored it.
"But that's impossible," Rogue said, her voice quiet with sudden tension. "Insects don't fall in love; they can't."
That smile again. The warm one, this time making Rogue melt on the spot. And that look in his eyes that she could feel, one that invoked both nervousness and excitement and confusion in her all at once. With this potent mix in her at that moment, she hardly noticed as Scott's hand found its way to her hair, cradling her by the nape of her neck, his bare hand protected only by a thin layer of hair.
"Maybe there's a special kind of love that butterflies have," he said, his voice low and quiet. "A kind of love so deep that people can't explain it, or understand it. Maybe they've got a love all their own."
Rogue's breath caught in her throat, abruptly, as Scott removed his glasses. All at once, but briefly, she was terrified. What'd she do? Was he going to blast her? No, he wasn't, Rogue assured herself. He was doing something stupider, she realized, as his lips drew near hers, so close that she could feel his soft breathing on her own lips. Idiot! What was he trying to do? Too afraid to push him away and startle a blast out of him, she closed her eyes tightly, expecting only the worst.
Which, of course, never came. His lips never touched hers, but there was a slight brush from something on her cheeks. His eyelash.
A butterfly kiss.
Rogue recognized it immediately, feeling some of the heat from her now pounding heart force its way up to her cheeks, staining them a light crimson. Rogue kept her eyes closed, even as she felt Scott tilt his head in the other direction, ready to plant a "kiss" on the other cheek. As he did so, something came along with it, straight into Rogue's mind. She was sure it was unintentional on his part, but he had passed something along to her in that brief, almost nonexistent period of contact. In a few seconds, she had felt everything he had felt, was feeling as he cradled her head in one hand and planted "kisses" on her face.
The fact that he loved her came as a large, thrilling, wonderful shock.
With gloved hands, she cupped his face, sensing the surprise as his muscles tensed naturally. Smiling, though, with closed eyes, he could not see it, she quickly returned his "kisses"; a brief flutter of the lashes on each cheek, and once, even, on the lips. She hoped that Scott could sense from her the same thing he had unwittingly passed on to her.
As Rogue pulled away, she studied his face, finally realizing what was in that melting smile of his; a smile he had made all for her. And then he abruptly pulled her close, hiding his Melting Smile in her thick hair.
"Maybe humans have a special love, too," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled in the girl's auburn hair. "One that doesn't need real kisses…"
Rogue didn't respond. Her gaze settled once again on the butterflies, now nestling together, now preparing their wings for another short flight. Off to find another spot to exchange their kisses. Fluttering away, buttery- yellow beside buttery-yellow. And Rogue watched them, sighing wistfully.
Butterfly Kisses
Butterflies. Fluttering, buttery-yellow beside buttery-yellow. A bright, red flower standing out among the uncut, spring grass; a convenient perch for the two. Nestling together, looking content, even for insects. A bitter sigh, but not from either of the delicate creatures. Something else.
Rogue watched the two insects wistfully, resting her chin on her knees, which were pulled up to her chest. Was it possible for insects to be in love? No, probably not. Rogue had learned in one of her classes that it was only instinct—the instinct to reproduce—that drove insects toward each other. In the animal world altogether, love and affection were practically nonexistent. In humans, however…
Her thoughts trailed again, focusing once more on the delicate butterflies. Their small antennas, barely noticeable, brushed against the other's antennae. An almost affectionate gesture, Rogue noted. If they were human.
"Rogue!"
Him.
"Rogue?"
Scott was looking for her.
"Hey, Rogue!"
How did he know to look for her here, of all places?
"Hey, there you are!"
He had somehow managed to silently creep behind her, forcing Rogue to leap to her feet in surprise. How had he managed to sound so far off one moment, and be right behind her the next? Rogue turned and sat again, checking to make sure the butterflies she had so carefully been observing had not fled at the sound of Scott's calls. Thankfully, they hadn't, and Rogue smiled to herself.
"So, where'm Ah s'posed to be?" the girl asked, her gaze set on the insects once again.
"Training," Scott responded matter-of-factly, like he always did. He promptly seated himself beside Rogue—close beside Rogue—startling her. "We finished early, though. No one really felt like training, either."
Rogue nodded, not really hearing what he was saying. The butterflies fluttered for a moment, as a brief breeze passed over them; a warm, spring breeze, that made Rogue feel refreshed even on the inside.
"So'd the Professor send you?" Rogue asked, suddenly curious. "And how'd y'know Ah'd be here?"
Scott's normal half-smile appeared at once, and Rogue realized that, even through his dark glasses, his gaze was also set on the buttery insects on the red flower. "No, the Professor didn't send me," he said casually, quickly scanning the meadow they rested in. "I was just kind of concerned that you didn't show up to training."
Concerned? Scott? No, couldn't be! The sarcasm bell played loudly in Rogue's head. Of course Mr. Perfect Leader would be concerned, Rogue or not.
"And I don't know how I knew you'd be here," Scott continued thoughtfully, pulling his knees up to his chest in almost the same manner as Rogue. "It was the first place I looked. Maybe I've got some kind of instinct." He grinned at his own comment, his gaze still set on the butterflies, whose small wings were now rubbing against each other. So much like humans. Instinct had brought those two together, and Scott had joked that it was instinct that had brought him to Rogue. This made her wonder, briefly.
The butterflies changed positions, to where their antennae were rubbing against each other again. Feeling each other, as if they were really caring. Beside her, Scott let out a soft chuckle, drawing Rogue's attention from the tiny insects.
"Funny," he commented softly, a soft smile on his face; one Rogue had seen only rarely. "It's almost their way of kissing, isn't it?"
Rogue found herself blinking at him in disbelief, close to a slight embarrassment. This? Coming from Mr. Perfect Leader? She gawked at him for a moment, then abruptly turned back to the butterflies. Sure enough, she realized that his unusual observation had been right; she noticed it, too.
"As if they were in love..." His voice was even softer this time, but Rogue thought that it felt strangely closer. Turning her head to face him once more, she found that Scott was also returning her stare; Rogue could feel it, even through his glasses. There was something strange in his look; she quickly ignored it.
"But that's impossible," Rogue said, her voice quiet with sudden tension. "Insects don't fall in love; they can't."
That smile again. The warm one, this time making Rogue melt on the spot. And that look in his eyes that she could feel, one that invoked both nervousness and excitement and confusion in her all at once. With this potent mix in her at that moment, she hardly noticed as Scott's hand found its way to her hair, cradling her by the nape of her neck, his bare hand protected only by a thin layer of hair.
"Maybe there's a special kind of love that butterflies have," he said, his voice low and quiet. "A kind of love so deep that people can't explain it, or understand it. Maybe they've got a love all their own."
Rogue's breath caught in her throat, abruptly, as Scott removed his glasses. All at once, but briefly, she was terrified. What'd she do? Was he going to blast her? No, he wasn't, Rogue assured herself. He was doing something stupider, she realized, as his lips drew near hers, so close that she could feel his soft breathing on her own lips. Idiot! What was he trying to do? Too afraid to push him away and startle a blast out of him, she closed her eyes tightly, expecting only the worst.
Which, of course, never came. His lips never touched hers, but there was a slight brush from something on her cheeks. His eyelash.
A butterfly kiss.
Rogue recognized it immediately, feeling some of the heat from her now pounding heart force its way up to her cheeks, staining them a light crimson. Rogue kept her eyes closed, even as she felt Scott tilt his head in the other direction, ready to plant a "kiss" on the other cheek. As he did so, something came along with it, straight into Rogue's mind. She was sure it was unintentional on his part, but he had passed something along to her in that brief, almost nonexistent period of contact. In a few seconds, she had felt everything he had felt, was feeling as he cradled her head in one hand and planted "kisses" on her face.
The fact that he loved her came as a large, thrilling, wonderful shock.
With gloved hands, she cupped his face, sensing the surprise as his muscles tensed naturally. Smiling, though, with closed eyes, he could not see it, she quickly returned his "kisses"; a brief flutter of the lashes on each cheek, and once, even, on the lips. She hoped that Scott could sense from her the same thing he had unwittingly passed on to her.
As Rogue pulled away, she studied his face, finally realizing what was in that melting smile of his; a smile he had made all for her. And then he abruptly pulled her close, hiding his Melting Smile in her thick hair.
"Maybe humans have a special love, too," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled in the girl's auburn hair. "One that doesn't need real kisses…"
Rogue didn't respond. Her gaze settled once again on the butterflies, now nestling together, now preparing their wings for another short flight. Off to find another spot to exchange their kisses. Fluttering away, buttery- yellow beside buttery-yellow. And Rogue watched them, sighing wistfully.