Shape of My Heart by Princess of Monkeys
Disclaimer: Sorry, Remy stole my disclaimer.. Ah, there we go, Rogue jumped him and got it back for me. It goes a little something like this: I don't own XME, and I don't own the song that served as my inspiration for the title. Sting owns that. OK?
A/N: This takes place in the same time frame as my other fic Insecurities- both are set a few weeks after the events of the Sentinel battle and the X- Men returning to school.
The midnight silence of the Acolyte's headquarters was broken only by the quiet whooshing sound of shuffled cards. Long after everyone else had retired for the night, a lone figure sat up, contemplating fate and probability with every flick of his wrists.
Sighing, Remy put down the cards and absently pushed errant strands of hair out of his eyes. Midnight was his time, the only time he could be alone with his thoughts, and right now, he didn't much like the direction of said thoughts. It was times like these, alone except for the moon, when he missed New Orleans the most; he could almost convince himself that he never should have left, that everything would have been all right eventually if he'd stayed. But, invariably, reality would always come crashing back, running rampant through his thoughts, and he'd realize that he'd merely traded one bad situation for another.
At the time, Magneto's offer had been a godsend, an all-too-easy escape from the dangerous war brewing between the Thieves and Assassins' Guilds, a chance to put a lot of space between himself and his ex-fiancée Belladonna's obsessive desire for revenge. He'd thought all of Magneto's talk about a war between humans and mutants to be metaphorical, but since the showdown with the X-Men and Magneto's former Brotherhood team at the Sentinel compound two weeks earlier, the possibility of war was all too real.
More and more, he found himself contemplating the often-ridiculed ideals of Magneto's old friend and current enemy Charles Xavier. Despite Remy's unusual speech patterns and thick Southern accent, he was by no means stupid, and he knew that realistically, peace between humans and mutants was an improbable, if not outright impossible goal. However, it was an admirable, honorable goal, and despite his origins as a thief, he did have his own unique code of ethics. There was honor amongst thieves, and the Guild had taken great pains to drum it into him as a child.
He had been taken in by Magneto's offer of safe haven, and the idea of a place where his mutant abilities would be useful, instead of merely a burden. But instead, he was being used as a foot soldier in the man's private vendetta against his one-time friend. Magneto certainly had been persuasive. But lately, an image in his mind was beginning to have an even more persuasive effect on his mind.
Long before the battle, they had known about their opponents. Magneto had given every Acolyte copies of his files on the X-Men, and by sheer chance, hers had been at the top of the pile. The photo attached didn't do her justice, but even through the picture he could somehow feel the strength of her personality. He had read all the information on her voraciously, meager though it was, but nothing in those files could prepare him for their actual meeting in combat.
As he'd given her the charged card, they had stared at each other, transfixed. He couldn't tear his eyes away- he had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. Her white-streaked auburn hair blew away from the pale perfection of her face in a sudden breeze, and when he looked into her emerald eyes, time just seemed to stop. He'd never seen so many emotions flashing in anyone's eyes before- such a mixture of anger and determination, strength, loneliness and longing.... In that moment there was no battle, no ideological enmity, nothing at all to divide them. He moved closer, leaning into kiss her perfect lips, and remembered her poison skin just in time. The moment was broken and they were enemies again, and he stepped back and turned away, trying to pretend he couldn't feel her eyes lingering on his retreating form. He could hear the explosion behind him, and even without turning to look, he knew she was all right.
A few days later he had begun watching her at school, unseen; seeing how she interacted with her friends and the other students once the secret of her mutancy was out. Publicly she was so strong and self-sufficient, so unaffected by anyone else's opinion. Nobody but him had ever seen how she hid out under the bleachers in the soccer field and poured out her sadness in her journal, unsuccessfully holding back tears.
One time she accidentally left the journal there, after she had been found out and called away by her friends. Even thought he knew it was wrong, he had opened it, drawn by a desire to know her inner mind. But what he'd seen on the first page had stopped him cold. There on the inside cover was an accurate rendition of red-on-black demon eyes. His eyes. Shaken but obscurely gratified, he closed the book, unwilling to invade her privacy further. He knew enough, now. He'd been long gone by the time she had come back to claim it, and he hadn't been back to see her since.
He knew it bordered on stalking, but the memory of her haunted him. He felt tied to her, unable to escape the attraction he felt, but some part of him didn't really want to escape it. Even though he knew the futility of what he felt, he couldn't deny it. It was so impossible- he was a thief, and she was a girl who couldn't touch. Yet he couldn't give up on her, couldn't let it go.
Again he sighed. He could manage to steal anything, but it seemed that when it came to the hearts he stole, things always only ended in disaster. He'd already been thrown into one war because of Belladonna, and now he was giving serious thought to changing his allegiances in another war because of Rogue.
Sparing one last thought for the gothic beauty, he smiled in the darkness. Gathering u his cards, he silently padded down the hall towards his bedroom. Even if he didn't know what to do, sleeping on it would always help. And Rogue might be unreachable and untouchable, but in his dreams, anything was possible.
Please use that little button down there on the left! Reviews are good, reviews are your friend!
Disclaimer: Sorry, Remy stole my disclaimer.. Ah, there we go, Rogue jumped him and got it back for me. It goes a little something like this: I don't own XME, and I don't own the song that served as my inspiration for the title. Sting owns that. OK?
A/N: This takes place in the same time frame as my other fic Insecurities- both are set a few weeks after the events of the Sentinel battle and the X- Men returning to school.
The midnight silence of the Acolyte's headquarters was broken only by the quiet whooshing sound of shuffled cards. Long after everyone else had retired for the night, a lone figure sat up, contemplating fate and probability with every flick of his wrists.
Sighing, Remy put down the cards and absently pushed errant strands of hair out of his eyes. Midnight was his time, the only time he could be alone with his thoughts, and right now, he didn't much like the direction of said thoughts. It was times like these, alone except for the moon, when he missed New Orleans the most; he could almost convince himself that he never should have left, that everything would have been all right eventually if he'd stayed. But, invariably, reality would always come crashing back, running rampant through his thoughts, and he'd realize that he'd merely traded one bad situation for another.
At the time, Magneto's offer had been a godsend, an all-too-easy escape from the dangerous war brewing between the Thieves and Assassins' Guilds, a chance to put a lot of space between himself and his ex-fiancée Belladonna's obsessive desire for revenge. He'd thought all of Magneto's talk about a war between humans and mutants to be metaphorical, but since the showdown with the X-Men and Magneto's former Brotherhood team at the Sentinel compound two weeks earlier, the possibility of war was all too real.
More and more, he found himself contemplating the often-ridiculed ideals of Magneto's old friend and current enemy Charles Xavier. Despite Remy's unusual speech patterns and thick Southern accent, he was by no means stupid, and he knew that realistically, peace between humans and mutants was an improbable, if not outright impossible goal. However, it was an admirable, honorable goal, and despite his origins as a thief, he did have his own unique code of ethics. There was honor amongst thieves, and the Guild had taken great pains to drum it into him as a child.
He had been taken in by Magneto's offer of safe haven, and the idea of a place where his mutant abilities would be useful, instead of merely a burden. But instead, he was being used as a foot soldier in the man's private vendetta against his one-time friend. Magneto certainly had been persuasive. But lately, an image in his mind was beginning to have an even more persuasive effect on his mind.
Long before the battle, they had known about their opponents. Magneto had given every Acolyte copies of his files on the X-Men, and by sheer chance, hers had been at the top of the pile. The photo attached didn't do her justice, but even through the picture he could somehow feel the strength of her personality. He had read all the information on her voraciously, meager though it was, but nothing in those files could prepare him for their actual meeting in combat.
As he'd given her the charged card, they had stared at each other, transfixed. He couldn't tear his eyes away- he had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. Her white-streaked auburn hair blew away from the pale perfection of her face in a sudden breeze, and when he looked into her emerald eyes, time just seemed to stop. He'd never seen so many emotions flashing in anyone's eyes before- such a mixture of anger and determination, strength, loneliness and longing.... In that moment there was no battle, no ideological enmity, nothing at all to divide them. He moved closer, leaning into kiss her perfect lips, and remembered her poison skin just in time. The moment was broken and they were enemies again, and he stepped back and turned away, trying to pretend he couldn't feel her eyes lingering on his retreating form. He could hear the explosion behind him, and even without turning to look, he knew she was all right.
A few days later he had begun watching her at school, unseen; seeing how she interacted with her friends and the other students once the secret of her mutancy was out. Publicly she was so strong and self-sufficient, so unaffected by anyone else's opinion. Nobody but him had ever seen how she hid out under the bleachers in the soccer field and poured out her sadness in her journal, unsuccessfully holding back tears.
One time she accidentally left the journal there, after she had been found out and called away by her friends. Even thought he knew it was wrong, he had opened it, drawn by a desire to know her inner mind. But what he'd seen on the first page had stopped him cold. There on the inside cover was an accurate rendition of red-on-black demon eyes. His eyes. Shaken but obscurely gratified, he closed the book, unwilling to invade her privacy further. He knew enough, now. He'd been long gone by the time she had come back to claim it, and he hadn't been back to see her since.
He knew it bordered on stalking, but the memory of her haunted him. He felt tied to her, unable to escape the attraction he felt, but some part of him didn't really want to escape it. Even though he knew the futility of what he felt, he couldn't deny it. It was so impossible- he was a thief, and she was a girl who couldn't touch. Yet he couldn't give up on her, couldn't let it go.
Again he sighed. He could manage to steal anything, but it seemed that when it came to the hearts he stole, things always only ended in disaster. He'd already been thrown into one war because of Belladonna, and now he was giving serious thought to changing his allegiances in another war because of Rogue.
Sparing one last thought for the gothic beauty, he smiled in the darkness. Gathering u his cards, he silently padded down the hall towards his bedroom. Even if he didn't know what to do, sleeping on it would always help. And Rogue might be unreachable and untouchable, but in his dreams, anything was possible.
Please use that little button down there on the left! Reviews are good, reviews are your friend!