Author's Note: Blackstar here, alrighty first things first, I didn't type out any accents out in this story mainly because it's not my style...
** = Rogue's writing
* = thoughts
Disclaimer= you know the drill
Essence of Soul
Prologue
Rogue glanced over at a sleeping Remy as she slowly donned her gloves. She walked over to his crouched figure and knelt down next to him. She gazed at his face momentarily, taking him in to be sure she'd dream of him that night before shaking him slightly.
"Remy, wake up," she whispered, careful not to wake up her room mate, Kitty, "you have to go."
"Just five more minutes, chere," he muttered, much too loud for her liking.
"Cajun, I swear if you don't get up this minute," she leaned on her hands, a frown emerging on her lips. Remy smirked and peeked one eye open, glancing at her.
"It's always easy to rile you up," he jumped out of the way of a quick punch from Rogue. She immediately stood and crossed her arms. "Easy, chere, I was only kidding."
She sighed as he gave her a peck on the cheek. She watched as he stood on her bed, pushed the button on the activator and climbed out the window. She scoffed and peered out the window, looking down at him.
"Can't you ever use a door?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you'd like this, reminds me of Romeo and Juliet," he chuckled.
"That was a rhetorical question, Cajun," she smiled.
"A tout alore, chere," he saluted playfully and disappeared into the shadows. Rogue closed the window and sat on her bed, hugging a pillow. She rested her chin on her shoulder and suddenly had a thought and pulled out an unused journal from her drawer. She tapped the fountain pen against the first page before she began to write.
**It was about two months ago I met him… she thought; we've been sneaking around to see each other, since that one warm night. We still hope that we don't get caught; if we do we'll probably never be able to see each other again. I hate to admit it, but right now I'm fearing that moment that I just know will come.
I remember during European history, that one time I actually paid attention, the teacher had said that through Shakespeare's writings, the characters were made immortal. Well, maybe I can achieve something like that; maybe one day, years from now, people will be talking about us.
This is our story…**
** = Rogue's writing
* = thoughts
Disclaimer= you know the drill
Essence of Soul
Prologue
Rogue glanced over at a sleeping Remy as she slowly donned her gloves. She walked over to his crouched figure and knelt down next to him. She gazed at his face momentarily, taking him in to be sure she'd dream of him that night before shaking him slightly.
"Remy, wake up," she whispered, careful not to wake up her room mate, Kitty, "you have to go."
"Just five more minutes, chere," he muttered, much too loud for her liking.
"Cajun, I swear if you don't get up this minute," she leaned on her hands, a frown emerging on her lips. Remy smirked and peeked one eye open, glancing at her.
"It's always easy to rile you up," he jumped out of the way of a quick punch from Rogue. She immediately stood and crossed her arms. "Easy, chere, I was only kidding."
She sighed as he gave her a peck on the cheek. She watched as he stood on her bed, pushed the button on the activator and climbed out the window. She scoffed and peered out the window, looking down at him.
"Can't you ever use a door?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you'd like this, reminds me of Romeo and Juliet," he chuckled.
"That was a rhetorical question, Cajun," she smiled.
"A tout alore, chere," he saluted playfully and disappeared into the shadows. Rogue closed the window and sat on her bed, hugging a pillow. She rested her chin on her shoulder and suddenly had a thought and pulled out an unused journal from her drawer. She tapped the fountain pen against the first page before she began to write.
**It was about two months ago I met him… she thought; we've been sneaking around to see each other, since that one warm night. We still hope that we don't get caught; if we do we'll probably never be able to see each other again. I hate to admit it, but right now I'm fearing that moment that I just know will come.
I remember during European history, that one time I actually paid attention, the teacher had said that through Shakespeare's writings, the characters were made immortal. Well, maybe I can achieve something like that; maybe one day, years from now, people will be talking about us.
This is our story…**
