The card fluttered beneath his fingers, following a figure of eight in his hand. He observed silently from his usual perch on the edge of the balcony, a spot which he'd chosen for its covertness, but proved to have many more perks in regards to its prime viewing angle.
He pressed the card to his lips, breathing lightly against the surface. Remy paused, watching for a moment as Rogue shifted and moved her arm over the edge of the bed, her hand brushing the carpet beneath.
He smiled, just barely against The King of Hearts, slipping silently off his perch and onto the concrete of the balcony.
"J'taime."
The words came out as an inaudible whisper, a soundless plea, reaching no further than the playing card which caught his secret and concealed it in the breast of The King's robes for safe keeping.
Then with practised ease, he moved across the balcony and towards the doors of her room. He picked the lock swiftly and silently, barely a hiccup of a pause as he did so, as if he'd glided through the glass doors themselves.
As he stepped through the room, not even the soft night clothes he wore making a noise, he kept his focus on one thing only.
Carefully, without shifting her hair which pooled across her pillow, he placed the card on the space next to her head.
It was an admission that she would never hear, at least not for a while. It was one he hadn't even meant to say, but the words had slipped out as he watched her, and as he tried to sort through the thoughts and feelings that ran through his head. That had been running through his head for the past few months at least, and were still running through his head as he watched her for a few seconds contentedly.
Not words he'd used lightly, often leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, similar to just after you've been violently ill. So he ignored them and their implications, he closed himself off to them out of the scrambling instinct of self preservation.
But this time they didn't fill his mouth with sour fears and low expectations, they didn't rip at his heart or claw out his stomach. Instead he felt lighter, as though he'd released a burden to the skies, a flaming song bird in the moonlight laced clouds above. He felt his chest constrict, but not painfully, and he let himself, only for a moment, revel in what she made him feel.
It wasn't something he was prepared for her to know, at least not yet, but he needed to say it. A final declaration, before he could shrink back into the comfort of the shadows and the dark, to the same routine of subtle, gentle glove covered brushes against her skin, playful comments and quiet moments of understanding. Something he'd never really tried to comprehend the depth of until now.
But he had to say it. He had to. So he did in the only way he knew how to that would keep him safe, and keep her safe, that would provide security and comfort at the same time.
The card, still tainted with his secret, lay softly next to her. She was alone now, Remy already slinking back along the ridge of the roof, panther like and silent as ever. He allowed a smile to twitch at his lips, a genuine smile before he leapt off the edge and onto the ledge of his bedroom window.
He whispered the words again to the moon, still spinning, still reeling.
"J'taime."