Chapter Ten
I Walk the Night
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// "Hey, Rogue?"
Rogue changed the page in the book she was reading, and cast a quick glance at her winged friend who sat on the window sill, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.
"Hmm?" She asked.
"Have you…" His voice trailed off as he rephrased the question in his mind. His gaze turned to her. "Do you ever think about love?" Rogue raised an inquiring eyebrow and smiled.
"Are yah getting sappy on meh now, Warren?" She asked in a teasing tone. He laughed.
"C'mon Rogue, I'm serious!" His laughter faded and was replaced by a small smile as he looked at her. "Do you?" Rogue's smile withered and her eyes dimmed as her mind went far away.
"Sometimes." She whispered in answer, after a moment of pause, her tone devoid of all the previous mirth. Warren swung his legs over the edge of the window sill, leaning forward with the heels of his hands supporting him on the edge.
"Do you believe that everyone has a soulmate? You know, that there is someone out there for everyone?"
A faint blush appeared on Rogue's cheeks and she turned her face away to hide it.
"Soulmate? Ah- Ah don't know, Warren. It sure would be beautiful if it was true, but…" The corners of her mouth curled up in a small, sad smile and she looked him in the eye. "For someone like meh, with mah mutation, it seems kinda impossible you know." Warren jumped down from his seat only to fall on his knees beside her.
"Hey." He whispered and squeezed her gloved hand, comforting. "You are beautiful, Rogue. There's no way there's nobody out there for you too." Rogue's throat constricted as she met his blue compassionate eyes.
"Yah're so full of crap, Warren." She admonished in a jovial tone, and grazed him with a brilliant smile of her own. "But thank you."//
The past clung to Rogue like a second skin, rotting slowly as each dream of a future with Warren slowly died. Her clothes hung in rags, rancid with her discarded self-pity. It was like she had been deteriorating the past days, her loss obvious on her exterior. But underneath the surface, hate was still boiling, a hate against herself and her own acts. It wasn't a destructive hate, but a hate that fuelled her will to change and transform from weak state she was in, into something stronger that was able to walk the road ahead of her. Something that could rebel and break free from her chains that tied her down.
Rogue peeled off her bloodstained and torn clothes, and threw them away. In the bathroom mirror she could see every cut she had received from the mirror shards, still fresh and bleeding. The small strokes of red adorned her arms, shoulder and face. It had to go. In her mind she tapped Logan's healing powers and watched as each and every cut slowly disappeared without a trace left behind. When she was satisfied with the result, she stepped into the shower and turned the knobs to hot water.
The cold water that broke against her skin heated slowly, leaving small tendrils of awareness on her skin. It was a blissful sensation to wash the past away from her skin, and to watch everything dead and dying go along with it. With soap and sponge she scrubbed her skin so thorough, it flushed red by the exercise. The mouldering hope and the lost dreams flushed down the drain and left Rogue naked and exposed to her own criticism and self-hate.
What had she done? She had let herself to fall because of her foolish hope for a better future had broken. The future she knew so well that had never been hers to experience. Family, love, romance. It was all sealed doors for her. She had deluded herself that even someone like her could open them, and she had paid a high price for those delusions.
In her mindscape, pieces of her heart laid scattered on the ground. With a gentle care, she gathered whatever pieces that was left and gently wrapped them up in band-aid. With time, maybe it would heal. With time, maybe she would be ready for a new hope. But whether she would be or not, she didn't care. Because her heart would be sealed off to anyone. She wouldn't be able to handle another disappointment. This had been her last and only chance. She could delude herself that maybe, maybe next time would be it. But it was something she couldn't afford, the stakes were too high, so she didn't. Not now, not ever. Not after…
She shook her head vigorously, water splashing everywhere. No, don't think about it. Don't step into that pothole again. She needed to focus on the now, on what she could do to redeem herself in her own eyes.
To go rogue. To let all those rules and restrictions that tied her down, to loosen and fall. Could it be so simple? Could such a simple an act make a difference? She didn't know but it was worth a try.
Hell, it was worth several tried if it could revert her back to normal. To the 'normal' Rogue that is. She doubted she owned any trace of the real 'normal'.
But Rogue had never been so overwhelmed by self-pity before, so totally abandoned in it. That was a new, unpleasant experience, and it left her confused. The Rogue didn't wallow in self-pity, she was tough and focused, always on top of her game. But if she wasn't all that now, who was she then? Rogue didn't know, and she had no inclination of ever wanting to find out. By objectifying her own weaknesses, she had already taken a step back from that person. Slowly, slowly the roots were unearthed and detangled from the mess her foolishness had caused.
Rogue was already clean, but she soaped her body again, wanted to be perfectly sure the past was off of her. Shampooing her hair, and scrub her skin again and again. Not every trace of the past vanished with the soap, some of it was still littering in her mind. But it helped.
She blinked the water away from her eyes, trying to get her blurry vision to sharpen. She felt a little better already. Somehow the simple act of washing all the bad away had reinflated some of her lost respect for herself. Underneath all that grime and dirt, Rogue still existed. It was both a comfort and relief, and though it didn't heal all the wounds, it eased the pain a little.
She snapped the knobs to the shower and the hot rain seized to fall. When she opened the door to the shower, cold air rushed in and made her skin prickle with goosebumps. The mirror was slightly dimmed with steam, and she wiped it off with a sweep of her hand. The reflection that met her was the familiar face she had seen all her life. Green eyes, slightly flushed cheeks and a, now rekindled, spark of life mirrored in the face. So much a little determination and soap could do.
With the help from Storm's powers, Rogue blow-dried her hair with the wind until it became a wild, tangled mess. She took out the flatiron, but hesitated. The definition of Rogue was; unpredictable and mischievous. Surely, her untamed her would complement that much better than her usual flat and disciplined hair. So she put back the flatiron. Grinning, she enjoyed the realization of that it was impossible to plan the unpredictable, but however, it was possible to prepare for whatever would come.
So she ran back into her room, only wrapped up in a towel and opened her closet. She needed something she never usually dared to wear, something that could reflect her mischievous mood this night.
She rummaged through her closet, throwing all the discarded clothes on the floor in a hazard manner until she found the perfect outfit. It was a mottled black and grey dress that fit her snugly. It reached down to just above her knees, and had slits on the sides that were clutched together with straps and ribbons. Along with the dress came an acid-green corset, which emphasized her natural hourglass shape, rather than making her waist thin as a needle. The corset showed a lot more cleavage than Rogue usually dared to show, but this night it was perfect. The top of the dress stuck out from the corset, nicely framing her breasts. The shoulder straps were broad with riffled folds, covering her shoulders loosely. A pair of long dark green opera gloves also came with the dress.
Rogue dressed quickly, and with the help of Jean's powers she tied all corset's ribbons and straps. She also put on a pair of stockings to cover her legs and selected a pair of black stilettos to wear. As for makeup, she chose a dark, blood red lipstick and a thick layer of eyeliner. When everything was done, she scrutinized the result in the mirror. The colour theme was ideal for the night. The black of the dress brought a mystery to the outfit, and the green of the corset added a touch of poison. The finishing touch was her black leather bomber jacket she usually wore. Dangerous, unpredictable, rogue. The corners of her mouth curled up in a grin. She was ready.
She opened the balcony doors, letting a cool wind rush in. The air smelled fresh and sweet as she inhaled it. The wind coyly played with her wild hair, making her locks dance around her shoulders. She let out a high rich laugh, already feeling a flow adrenaline in her blood.
Tonight was the night she let all those restrictions and inhibitions go. A night of freedom and redemption, a chance to be as unpredictable as nature intended for her to be. She wouldn't plan anything, just go with the flow and do what her gut feeling told her to do.
Heaven stretched out its wide arms before her, welcoming her. She accessed Carol's powers to embrace it. Laughing, she launched herself into the air and flew towards the sky. She accelerated to a speed she had never dared to reach before. Air rushed pass her, making her eyes fill with tears by its speed. Another laugh escaped her as she ascended higher and higher into the sky. The mansion shrunk to the size of an ant, and the world around it looked like a child's model world. She flew pass the first dewy layers of clouds, stopping shortly after to take in her surroundings.
An ocean of highlighted grey stretched out before her, so vast it reached well beyond the horizon. Above her the moon glowed in such a pristine white, no pearls in the world could ever match. Rogue resumed her flight and stretched out a hand towards the moon above her. Eerie light made Rogue's lilywhite skin shine like a ghost's, her eyes glistening as the moon grew bigger in her vision. The air grew thinner and made it hard for her to breath, but she smiled anyway.
When she was only a tiny black figure against the large brilliant disc of light, she slowed down. She clenched her hand as if she wanted to catch the light with only her hands. Then, a sudden hesitation overcame her. Would she really dare to let go? To lose control? What if…?
No. Let it all go. Release the ties and let go.
Closing her eyes, she unclenched her hand. She could do it.
Let go.
And she let go. Carol's psyche faded in her mind and the powers slipped from her grasp. Gravity started to pull her down and she let it.
Still with closed eyes, she felt clutches of the wind pull her clothes and hair as she plunged through the atmosphere. A passing sensation of humidity and coldness made her aware that she dropped through the clouds. Adrenaline spiked the blood in her veins, making her heady as she continued her free fall. Pulse thundering in her ears, her breath hitching. But she let herself fall through the sky. It was an incredible experience, so utterly free and liberating in every sense. Every tie and bond that restricted her split. She was Rogue and she was free.
She opened her eyes to see the ground approach her rapidly. Accessing Storm's powers, she let a torrent of air catch her in the last possible moment and bend her line of movement to a horizontal one. Twirling and spinning, she laughed as she flew parallel with the world, the ground rushing past beneath her.
It was then the city caught her eye. Bright and shining like a beacon, full of promises and adventure. She knew instinctively, that's where she wanted to go. The perfect place for her night. So she flew to the city, circling above it in the air for a few moments before she decided to drop down in a dark alleyway.
She walked out to the streets and the crowds, enjoying the flashing neon lights and the sound of people chattering and laughing. Even in the midst of the night, traffic was high and running. The city was pulsing with life, shining so brilliantly in contrast to the black sky above them.
With the gait of a stalking cat, Rogue walked down the streets confidently, drinking in the moment. She attracted many curious and appreciating looks, and she secretly revelled in them. Without any intentions of going anywhere special, she just let her legs carry her to wherever she went. She passed monuments, fountains, people, buildings and parks. Nothing particular caught her attention, and no particular feelings lingered, she just walked the night, forgetting everything that had happened to her.
The sound of music reached her ear, a slow beating rhythm that pulsed through the entire street. It didn't take long before she found its origin.
There was a club across the street where the sound came from. It was apparently very popular, because outside of it a long queue had formed. Two bulky guards were stationed at the sides of the entrance, resembling two statues of flesh and muscle. They only let certain people in, rejecting many that somehow didn't fit their taste or didn't look handsome or beautiful enough. Smiling, Rogue made her way across the street with a predatory glint in her eyes.
The guards saw her approach and glanced indecisively at each other. Rogue certainly fit the standard they let in, but something made them hesitate. But before they had the chance to make a decision, an invisible force pulled them out of her way and Rogue entered the club unharmed and unstopped.
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Inside the club the music was turned up to an ear-exploding level, making it almost impossible to hear anyone talk. Not that Rogue cared for small-talk though, she was there for completely different reasons.
With a practised eye, she surveyed her surroundings in one take. The room was crowded with slithering and writhing bodies, their movements in perfect synchronisation with the heavy rhythm of the song. Light flashed in an intermittent frequency, erratically erasing the shadows only to disappear and reappear again. The air was hot, humid and slightly oxygen-deprived, causing a slight buzz in Rogue's head. Eying the crowd attentively, she made her way through the onlookers, catching several men's admiring gazes before she got to the bar. With the help of her fake ID (fake name; Alice Smith, fake name; 22) she ordered a drink and sat down.
When the bartender handed over her drink, she rewarded him with a flirtatious smile. Sipping the neon blue liquid, she turned to watch the people on the dance floor. She tilted her head a fraction and smacked her lips. Due to Rogue's mutation she had never dared to go clubbing. It practically screamed 'Accidents meant to happen' with all the uncovered skin and bodies pressing against each other. But tonight it was just that danger she sought. Even though she was covered from tip to toe, Rogue had no doubt she would be asked to dance. And true enough, after only a few minutes someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and saw a man in his late twenties, black hair and brown eyes, smiling at her.
"Y' wanna dance, love?" He asked her in a thick Irish brogue. Accents, got to love them. Rogue flashed him a sultry smile and accepted his hand and they both walked out to the dance floor.
As it was Rogue's first time to actually club dancing, she was a bit uncertain in the beginning. But after a few moments of a beating rhythm from the music and the encouragement of her dancing partner, she let all inhibitions go and just did what came naturally. Hands in the air, hips swinging, she let herself completely give in to the music. Rogue was a natural when it came to dancing, and when she let loose, she enjoyed herself immensely. Her partner seemed to notice it, probably taking it as an invitation, and settled his hands on her waist to join her in her enthusiasm. Rogue was only vaguely aware of his touches, but her mental alarm went off immediately. But with an unwavering resolution she silenced it, to fully enjoy her night. This was not the night for precautions, but for the exact opposite, so she let him touch her and continued to dance. However, after a while the song switched to a slow one, with a more erotic heave of rhythm. Naturally, her partner got bolder and tried to nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. Rogue recoiled, but they had already made a brief contact. She gave him an inspective glance and saw that the contact had left him slightly woozy, and unable to continue the dance. She shrugged loftily and went back to her drink. There would be many more who asked her out, and he hadn't been such a good dance partner anyway.
She rolled her head to work out the kinks in the back of her neck. It felt good to let go and to stop worrying every second. But she knew that tomorrow all the worries would return, so she was fully intent to savour the moment. In one sweep she downed her drink and ordered a new one, laughing at the bartender's surprised face. No inhibitions and no restraints. That was the only rule for tonight, and she was intent to follow it.
Suddenly, her shoulder started to itch. Well, not exactly itch but it was an annoying sensation that pricked her mind. Frowning, she rubbed her shoulder to make it disappear. It didn't. She had a hunch of what t really was, and turned around to see if she was correct.
In the dark corners of the club, a pair of red eyes emitted a soft glow. As Rogue met his gaze they flashed a brilliant red.
Gambit.
What was he doing here?
But before she had the time to ponder that question any time longer, she felt a pull, an alluring so strong she had to grab the edge of the bar to steady herself.
The reds of his eyes were churning in the darkness, and even through the crowd it was obvious that his gaze was set on her and her alone. Rogue bit her lips, transfixed by the red gaze.
He was calling her, enticing her to come over. She could almost hear those unspoken promises of sweet pleasure his eyes emitted. His gaze was so intense and powerful, Rogue silently wondered what she had ever done to earn such a passion. But maybe he had that effect on all the girls? That look that make yah feel like yah're the one.
She shook her head vigorously. He was the enemy. He couldn't be trusted. Gripping the glass in her hand more firmly, she looked down at her vague and blurry reflection. Though she had promised herself to let go, she hesitated.
Then her reflection was briefly replaced by Scott's stern and disapproving face, his eyes silently admonishing her. She burst into laughter as she imagined the speech she would get if Scott ever found out that she had been fraternising with the enemy.
But that was what this night was all about. To rebel. This night she wanted the enemy, and all the risks and dangers that were came along with it. She drank the rest of her drink, blinking as the toxins seeped into her blood. A slight buzz would only help her, she reasoned.
The red burning eyes guided her through the masses, calling and enticing her to come closer. Rogue made her approach deliberately slow to tease him, and she smiled playfully, looking at him underneath droopy eyelids. The embers of his eyes glowed in amusement, and something more she was unable to define. But when she emerged through the crowd, she found that he was gone. No red burning eyes, no cocky grin nor the Cajun they belonged to. Frowning, she looked around her shoulder. Not there. Her gaze darted across the room but he was nowhere to be found. Where in the world…?
Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her from behind, a hot breath caressing her ear.
"Isn't it a bit dangerous for y' t' be out here all alone, chère?" Gambit whispered in her ear. Rogue grinned and turned around to meet his gaze.
"Maybe Ah like danger." She replied in a sultry voiced and dropped her gaze, letting it slide over him to fully appreciate the view. Gambit cocked an eyebrow at her boldness… but soon a slow sexy grin spread across his face and he repaid the courtesy by doing the same to her. Rogue could feel his gaze rack over her like a warm sensation, and she loved the way it made her whole body tingle in delight. There was an extra edge to flirt with the enemy, to do the forbidden and break all the rules. It was exactly what she needed.
"Y' look très magnifique tonight, chère. Dressed up for someone in particular?" He asked her with a slight tilt of his head, and studied her expression, the same shameless grin playing on his lips. Rogue grinned in return, leaned a little closer with a hand resting on his chest.
"Maybe… Wanna dance, swamp rat?" She asked coyly, peering at him beneath her eyelashes. His response was a red flash of his eyes and a cheeky grin as his arm snaked around her waist to guide her out to the dance floor.
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Gambit was an excellent dancer. Not that Rogue ever believed otherwise (it was quite obvious the way he moved), but she was still taken by surprise. They moved together as one, his hands on her hips as he gently guided her movements in perfect synchronization with his own. Rogue had her back pressed up against him, all trepidations and concerns flown out of the window. He was the enemy, and he knew the rules. Get too close and you'll get burned. But he danced on the border to the forbidden, his hands wandering and exploring her curves, his face so close to her own, almost buried in her hair. Always close, but never touching her.
His little game of play amused her, but at the same time it drove her insane. Rogue knew what would happen if she touched him, but at this point she didn't care; she wanted him to. To put it frankly, she didn't care if he dropped to the floor unconscious, he was the enemy after all. His touches and the proximity of him had started a fire inside of her, and she needed him to touch her and douse the flames that threatened to consume her. So she decided to try a little game of her own.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, him still behind her, and erased the remaining space between them. As they moved at the slow heaving rhythm of the music, Rogue's ass rolled firmly against his groin, making him gasp. She almost laughed as his grip around her hips tightened, pulling her even closer and made her feel the growing bulge in his pants. He was clearly aroused by her behavior, just as she wanted him to be. A mischievous grin spread across her face.
Game on.
As they danced, Rogue continued to dare him to touch her by repeatedly rubbing her against him, trying to make him lose control of what he did and make him cross that forbidden border. It didn't take long before he realized what she was doing, and with a shameless smirk, he retaliated her actions by upping the stakes.
He let her get closer, but even when they were so entangled with each other it was impossible to dissect where the other began and the other ended, he didn't touch her. His actions, almost touching but never really do was driving Rogue insane. Apparently she needed something a little bit more convincing to persuade him. She turned around and met his gaze steadily, grazing him with a sultry smile. In her mindscape she rummaged through all her psyches, until she found the one she was looking for. Gambit's psyche. He needed some of his own medicine, and Rogue was more than happy to deliver. With a careful and calculated touch, she tapped his powers but only let his empathy flow through the connection. On the outside, Rogue kept her green eyes, but they had started to kindle a glow of their own. His eyes widened a little in surprise at her sudden display. Rogue stretched out her empathy and gently nudged his emotions, diminishing his surprise and instead amplified his desire and arousal.
She looked him in the eyes, daring him.
Touch meh…
Ah dare you…
Her eyes swirled a deep, emerald green as she charmed him. They both had stopped dancing, their eyes locked. But she didn't know if it was working. Gambit didn't show any signs of succumbing to her charms, so she strengthened her efforts. His gaze dropped to her lips, and then back up to her eyes.
Touch meh…
He dipped his head closer to hers.
Ah dare you…
Their lips met in a gentle, slow and unhurried kiss, making Rogue's toes curl in delight. She tried to savor the moment because she knew, all too soon he would fall unconscious. The flames inside her doused, and with a satisfied moan, she pulled away from him.
She blinked. To her great shock, he was still standing. And she hadn't felt any pull of her powers. It took a second before she realized what had caused this. Gambit grinned triumphantly at her, and Rogue saw the slightest red of her lipstick on his lips.
Lipstick. Right, they hadn't touched because a thick layer of Rogue's makeup had protected them from skin to skin contact. She groaned and closed her eyes. He had won their little game. She had tried to make him touch her, and he had teased her by almost doing it, but always pulling away at the last possible moment. When she had charmed him, she thought she had him in her grasp as his lips met her, but apparently he hadn't touched her. He had cheated, and walked away with the prize; a kiss.
She snorted a laugh and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Fahne, Swampy. Yah won the game." She admitted grudgingly. His grin widened and he wiped off her lipstick.
"What game? Thought we were dancin'" He replied in mock confusion. Rogue rolled her eyes, and shifted her weight and made her hip thrust to one side. She was just about to retaliate but stopped herself as a sick sensation of spinning overcame her, making her stumble. Gambit caught her arm and helped her straightened up. She closed her eyes for a moment, just concentrating on breathing. When did it get so hot in here?
"Chère? Y' okay?" Gambit asked her in a concerned voice. Rogue nodded slowly and gripped his arm more firmly.
"Yeah, Ah just… It's all the alcohol and the heat in here. Don't they have any AC in here?" She asked in a slightly trembling voice. Oh boy, the drinks had certainly made their wonders with her head. Everything tilted and swayed, and her ears were ringing of oxygen deprivation.
"C'mon, let's go out and get some fresh air." Gambit took her arm and draped it around his neck, his hand on her waist to support her. Rogue followed his lead, left in no shape to walk on her own, and together they stumbled to the exit.
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Rogue took a deep gratifying breath of the, well, fresher air, outside. Her head wasn't spinning so badly anymore, however exhaustion overcame her after borrowing all the different powers from her psyches. She had her fun for today, and now she was ready to go home.
"Ah can walk by mahself." She said in a slight slur to Gambit and disentangled herself from him. She took three steps, the world made another loop in her eyes, and she stumbled. Before she could fall flat on her ass, Gambit caught her and chuckled, a low deep rumble in his chest.
"I can see dat chère, must say dat I am very impressed." He teased her in a jovial tone. Rogue swatted the air and pursed her lips.
"Shut up, swamp rat, Ah'm doing fahne here. Ah'll be home in no time." This time she only got one step before she the spinning in her head started again. Gambit caught her, and she let herself lean against his chest for a moment to collect herself. Why, oh why had she taken that last drink?
"Yeah, if y' mean by 'no time' next week or the next month." He took hold of her arm to help her walk. "C'mon, I'll help y' home." Rogue mumbled something in reply, but let him assist her. They only needed to walk a few steps before it was clear that Rogue was in no shape to walk even with his assistance. Gambit stopped and gave her with a measuring look.
"Well…" He drawled. "Seems like dere's only one option left." And with that he slipped an arm behind her knees, and swept her off her feet to carry her bridal style. Rogue groaned but was too exhausted to fight him.
"Noo…" She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. This was so humiliating. Drunk, incoherent and unable to walk by herself. Certainly not the ending of the night she had hoped for. She was silent for several moments, trying not to get too comfortable in the Cajun's embrace. He was warm against her side, and his arms were positioned in such a way Rogue could just relax and let the lull of his walk drift her off to sleep. But she fought against it, trying to bring herself out of her intoxicated state.
"Yah know…" She drawled, her accent more pronounced thanks to her drunken state. "Ah so hafta kick yoah ass next time to compensate for this humiliating damsel-in-distress fiasco."
She felt him chuckling, a low rumble of his chest. Rogue peeked an eye open. His gaze was set straight forward, a smile playing on his lips, but he didn't answer.
"Yah know where Ah live?" She asked him, but continued before he had the chance to answer. "Of course yah do. Enemies and all that. Ah bet yah know all about us X-men."
"Maybe not everything." He hummed and grinned. "But more than y' think." Somehow he managed to make that one sentence sound perfectly dirty, as his appreciating gaze slid over her body. She huffed.
"Whatever." Another silence. Her thoughts were in a jumble and it was hard to straighten things out. What had gotten her to do this in the first place? She couldn't remember, her memories were too disjointed.
"Why are yah doing this anyway?" She asked him with a frown. He cast her a quick glance before his gaze turned to the road ahead of him.
"Told y' before, chérie. I do whatever I want wit' my free time."
Rogue snorted a laugh.
"And saving drunken ladies from kissing the ground is what yah do in yoah spare time?" She asked him cynically.
"If the lady is a happen t' be a very nice looking belle from Mississippi, den I have no complaints." He said, and elicited a laugh from her.
"Swamp rat." She began and looked at him with a huge grin spread across her face. "Ah don't recall Ah ever said to yah that Ah was from Mississippi."
"Non, but y' accent did." He replied. She huffed and pursed her lips. With an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes and looked down at her. "Are y' saying that y're not from Mississippi, chère?" He asked her, a slight irony traced in his tone. Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.
"No, that's not what Ah meant! Ah'm only saying that you're taking things for granted." She replied and pouted her lips in an adorable sulk. The corner of his mouth curled up in a slow grin.
"Like what?"
"Like yah think Ah actually fall for that charming grin of yoahs, because Ah don't. And that yah think Ah actually like yah 'cause Ah danced with yah tonight."
"And y' don't?"
"Of course not. Yah just happened to be at the right time at the right place." She replied and yawned. "Yah were only lucky."
"Ma petite, lucky is my way of livin'" He said to her with a cocky tone, but only got a vague mutter in reply as she snuggled closer against his chest.
"Yah smell nice." She mumbled, her voice slightly muffled. He cocked an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden admission. He glanced down at her. She was already asleep, snoozing softly against his chest. He cleared his throat.
"Better take th' car." He said to himself, and continued down the street with the southern belle sleeping in his arms.
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A/N; Hmm, a little romy for you all. Though I feel like such a tease because you only get glimpses of it… But rest assured, next time Gambit enters the picture he's here to stay. Just have to get Rogue to the right place at the right time, and then I have a surprise for you all. *Evil chuckle*
Next chapter;
Chapter 11; Brush on Feelings
And ooh. The author noticed that there are almost 100 hundred reviews. When the reviews pass one hundred, the author will celebrate it by starting on the next chapter immediately. So you better review if you want a fast update ^^
One hundred, one hundred, c'mon!
(Author too tired to edit this chapter and fix all the spelling mistakes. Be kind.)
Hugs,
//Fahne