The worst part was being around them at the beginning, watching them flirt and laugh, knowing where it was headed but not being able to do a thing to stop it. No, that wasn't it. The worst part is seeing him afterwards when he comes back to the room flushed and smiling. Looking happier than she has any right to make him. How the fuck does some untouchable bitch make him look so fucking on top of the world when she doesn't even know him, not like I do. She probably doesn't even love him. She's only going out with him because he's the only guy alive naive enough to want a girl he can't even touch. Sure she's pretty, though she'd be prettier on fire...that thought makes me smile. I find myself thinking about flaming Rogue a lot lately. Not that it helps, not really. I can hate her all I want, I can make sarcastic remarks about her, I could make her cry if I really wanted but that won't change that fact that she has him and I don't.
But she'll never really have him, not with that poisonous skin of hers. She won't have him like I did. And yet she's the one he looks at with puppy dog eyes, she's the one he spends all his time with. I was just a one night thing. Teenage experimentation under the influence of too much cheap wine stolen from the local supermarket. As far as he's concerned nothing's changed with us. I know different. That one stupid night made me realise why I enjoyed hanging out with him when we're so obviously different, why I'd find myself getting irrationally jealous when he would hang out with other people, why I wasn't interested in any of the girls who were so clearly interested in me and why I hated the girls who were interested in him. And of course why I hate her.
The worst part is that now on the few occasions we actually get to spend time together without her she's all he ever talks about. How Rogue likes this, Rogue said that, Rogue's been through so much, she's so strong. His world revolves around fucking Rogue. Maybe it's time I told him about some of my past, see how that compares to poor little Rogue. But then he'd feel sorry for me and the one thing I don't want from Bobby Drake is his fucking pity.
It's not like I want to feel like this. I've been trying to get rid of these feelings since the moment I realised I had them. I tell myself that nothing's ever going to come of this, he'll never love me. He'll never even want to fuck me again. I guess that night was enough for him, he realised that he didn't want me while I was realising that I wanted him. Fucked up huh? I've tried supressing it all, avoiding him as much as possible which is quite hard considering we share a room. Everytime I think I'm over him all it takes is for him to smile at me and it all goes out the window. At the rate I'm going I'll still be in love with him when I'm best man at the Bobby/Rogue wedding. What a boring honeymoon that'll be, two-second kisses and handjobs through a glove. Surely even Bobby Drake isn't a good enough person to settle for that his whole life. He'll cheat on her eventually, maybe with Kitty I know she likes him. Maybe Rogue and I will form a club and bitch about Kitty or whoever it is and commiserate on not being enough for Bobby Drake. That's just too sad to even think about and it would just be typical of him to be faithful forever. I need to get over this and I know that there's no way I can do that while I still live with him. I'd leave if I had anywhere else to go. The worst part is knowing that he'll never even know that he could've had me, knowing that I'll never tell him because then things between us would never be the same, he wouldn't even be my friend anymore. I need him in my life and I hate that. I want to hate him for that.
I watch them sitting there, whispering to eachother, she's smiling coyly and he's looking at her like she's the greatest thing to ever exist, like she's a fucking goddess. He leans closer and she pulls away. I smirk at that and promise myself that as soon as the opportunity to get the hell out of there arises I'll grab on to it without looking back.