Chapter 46: Awakening
When I awoke the next morning, Victor was still there. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
Still drifting out of my slumber, I decided not to move, just to look at the man who had reluctantly become my partner. He didn't look nearly as ferocious as he normally did, but I knew from experience how that could change in a split second. I remember how he had looked when I first saw him, back when he was working for Magneto: hairy, unkempt, more animal than man. Now his hair was short, his face was regularly shaved and washed, and he had trimmed those insane eyebrows of his – seriously, no man looks good with bushy eyebrows – NO MAN. Point is, under all the hair and filth was an amazing face, strong yet stunning. His dirty blond hair and intense pale blue eyes could be entrancing.
– Oh crap, that is not how I should be thinking. But, yeah, I was, I totally was. I had it bad for Victor Creed. Well fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
Not like there was anything I could do about it, for more reasons than one. Victor might have said there were ways around my skin, but it seemed unlikely to me, or at least so damn cumbersome that most people wouldn't put up with it, least of all the impatient Sabretooth. But there was more than my skin. I don't know what I wanted from Victor and I didn't know what he wanted from me. This could all just be a long con on his part. Sure, I'd seen some lust and a little affection in his mind when I absorbed him, but I don't really know what that added up to. I'd already once had my heart torn apart because I thought that I meant something to someone, just because they meant something to me. My heart, like my skin, had to remain untouched for me to survive. Because I don't think I could survive another heartbreak.
The light from between the window-shades was slowly shifting with the rising sun, and was beginning to fall on Victor's closed eyes. I knew he would wake soon. I still didn't know what I wanted from him, but I knew what I could have: friendship. We understood one another, and while I couldn't say I was fine with all the things he'd done and all the things he was, I did still want him in my life. So I'd bury my romantic notions deep down, where they would do the least harm, and try to foster our growing friendship. At least that was something.
He started to growl as the sunlight fell on his face. I'm pretty sure he wasn't even awake, it was just instinct for him. I had to giggle at that. Which really did wake him up, of course. "What ya laughing at, frail?" He asked in a surly, rough voice.
I smiled mischievously at him, "Ya look just like a big cat when you're sleepin', ya know that, sugar?" I said teasingly. He slowly opened his eyes, scowling at me. My smile grew brighter as I continued, "And ya are just as mad as a kitty 'bout bein' woken up."
He growled again, but I just giggled some more. I was about to make a Grumpy Cat reference when, with one swift movement, Sabretooth had me on my back and was on all fours hovering above me. He let out another low growl, somewhat different to the last ones – less annoyed, more . . . aroused? I gulped.
"I ain't no pussycat," he said softly, coldly, "ya should know that by now, little Rogue."
"I know," I whispered, looking into his eyes. He was only half-kidding, I could tell, but he wanted to make it clear, he was no one's pet. Especially not mine. For whatever reason, that brought me some relief.
When it was clear that I wasn't going to challenge him, the harshness on his face faded, and he slowly lowered his head down to me. I went rigid, afraid that he was going to kiss me, make me forget what I told myself just minutes before about the impossibility of a real relationship between the two of us. But he didn't kiss me. He lowered his nose to my neck, which I instinctually bared for him. He inhaled deeply, as if he was memorizing my scent. It was strangely erotic, so I tried to push any sexy thoughts out of my head. I ended up imagining Prof. X in a string bikini, which made me wince, but it certainly worked at curbing my libido.
Victor retracted himself from my neck, a smug look on his face. He smirked, looking down at me, and said with far too much cockiness, "I'd ask you what you're makin' me for breakfast, but I have a feelin' your cooking is shit."
Now it was my turn to growl, which he ignored as he got off the bed and sauntered out my bedroom door.
Well, I'm back from camping, working, and celebrating Thanksgiving in the ER. I'm going to try and have this story wrapped up by the end of the year, but no promises. And if any of you are on tumblr, I'm having a little contest on my Rogueslove blog for free stuff, so check it out.
Lexxxi: I didn't mean to take that long of a hiatus, sorry. Blame the virus that kept me away from Thanksgiving dinner.
tx peppa: Despite Victor's insistence to the contrary, I have a feeling Rogue can cook, she's just been too busy and tired to do so. And who doesn't like pizza?
TBRaven: Glad you approve of my take on Victor. I'm always weirded out when someone writes a fluffy Sabretooth. He has a non-violent, protective side, but that's about 1% of him.
