Snow in April: A Wedding Story
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG to PG-13 whether there is language or not
Disclaimer: I don't not own any of the characters I mention in this story and its chapters.
Chapter Two: High Heels and Dresses
Dedication: To Erica, hope this chapter is long enough for you :) Enjoy!
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December 31, 2002 9:55 p.m., On the satin couch at the foot of the stairs
It is too cold to write in my shared room, but when I tried to turn on the thermostat, Xavier caught me and scolded me on how I insist to pursue the rising heat bill. Then he finally sent me down here to burn a fire and warm myself. The hour is waning - I must hurry if I should write any more.
The day was dreary, its noon congested with gray rain clouds hovering overhead. I was up in Storm's built-in loft (where she moved half her plants because she keeps too many in her room) memorizing lines from Romeo and Juliet for English, when there came a knock on the door and a second later, Jean appeared, clad in white. Her hair was twisted to the back of her head and she walked with a bounce. Something was obviously making her happy. She grinned with all her teeth when she saw me.
"Hello Rogue!" she called loudly, though we were only about a foot from each other, "soaking some sun?"
"Couldn't annoy anyone else today, huh?" I asked flatly. Jean ignored the question and came over to my side. She then took out two parcels: one light green and the other light pink.
"Pick one," she said, the smile still playing on her lips. I rose an eyebrow and held the book closer to my face.
"Go away," I commanded, and resumed my memorizing. Jean sighed with despair.
"Rogue, please," she whined like a school girl.
"Haven't I done enough already?" I asked, cocking an eye at her. She grimaced and whined again.
"Please please please?"
"Go AWAY," I said again, this time motioning her away with my hand. She stood by my side a minute longer before tearing the book away from my hands and throwing it over her shoulder like a ball. I retorted with a shrill scream. "What is your problem, Jean? Go ask Kitty or someone else." A look at Jean and you could tell she wasn't satisfied. So I then took the parcels and threw them over my shoulders like Jean had done with my book. She gave me an exasperated look and took up the parcels again.
"Rogue, pink or green, that's all I'm asking."
"I'm no wedding planner."
"No, you're the bridesmaid and so your decision will affect what color your dress shall be." That made me think. Gurgling deep in my throat, I pointed a reluctant finger at the pink since I didn't want Kitty complaining about wearing green. Jean looked delighted with my choice.
"So pink they will be," she said delightedly. I shook my head in irritation. Jean looked down at me, glowing.
"What are you still doing here?" I asked, furrowing my brow. Her smile faded a bit. She then bent over and picked up a box I had failed to notice which was waiting by her feet.
"What's that?" I asked, making my words bite. Jean opened the box and took out the ugliest, most revolting pair of shoes you've ever seen.
Well, that is if you're Jean. Then everything in your eyes is perfect.
"Try them on," she offered, extending her hands so that I had a closer look of the horrendous shoes. They were pink, for one thing, and pointed and had pink bows at the top of it. Not to mention, the heel was like six inches high.
"Uh, uh, no way," I said, getting up and backing away. Unfortunately, the loft is only so wide, and I was cornered by plants to my left and right and Jean closing in on me.
"Well, why not? Aren't they the most darling things you've ever seen?" she asked, innocently. I thought, is she blind? Is she without any taste? Then again, she is Jean.
"Not in this lifetime," I muttered, but loud enough for her to hear. She scowled.
"Don't make me..."
"Go away!!!" I screamed. She stopped closing in on me, and I stood there, trembling with loathsome fear. There was a crash of thunder and the lights went out. Rain splattered against the glass windows as the lights flickered back on and Jean stood there, her face unmoved.
"Are you done?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, " because I am after all trying to do my best to make my wedding perfect! You know, if Remy had never suggested you being one of my bridesmaid, maybe I could've gotten a better answer from Rahne! But no, I'm stuck having you as one of mine! So deal with it, as I am, or best be pulverized! The sooner you comply, the sooner I can get to other things!" All the while she was talking, I was thinking of how Remy had decided to make me a bridesmaid. How could he?! Of all the things he thinks of, he does another dumb thing like this...
I pulled off one of my Doc Martens and slid my foot into one of the shoes. Jean studied it with a scowl and threw her hands down.
"Take it off. They are hideous..." she looked away as I kicked it off and was about to put on back my boot, when Jean took out another pair, this time green. So I tried those on and she smiled. I had to admit, they were a little more decent than the last pair.
"I could tell the company to send in pink ones. Walk around please?" she asked me. Now, that's something I just couldn't do. I mean, the heels were as high as my boots, but at least I pulled the boot with my whole leg. These shoes could take some work. I tried lifting my left foot, put it down and did the same with my right. Balancing on the heel, I almost slipped and caught on to a shelf. I saw the intolerance in Jean's eyes.
"What happened to you? Didn't you wear my red shoes?"
"Yes, but they weren't as high as these!" I said, and took them off. But Jean wouldn't take them. She said that I had to 'practice' walking in them. Never in my life did I want or even need to 'practice' walking in high heels! Never!
"You need to practice if you plan to walk down the aisle without falling flat on your face," she said, walking to the door, "You don't want my guests to think my bridesmaid isn't best enough to hold the title, let alone walk in high heels." Then she was gone before I could curse her.
I don't -plan- to walk in them, nor did I ever -want- to walk in anything down any stupid aisle! This is all Remy's fault, to say the least.
January 1, 2003 5:34 p.m., Under the stars in Storm's Loft
I went outside to practice walking around in high heels and flaunt to the world how good I am in them. Of course, it was 6 degrees outside, but everyone was a bustle indoors. The tree was getting pulled down, and everyone was putting away decorations. I couldn't walk in my shared room because Kitty decided to do vacuuming and told me that she was in the mood to clean my side. And Ororo was up in the loft planting and watering so I wasn't allowed in there when she was with her 'babies'. So, outside was the best place to work at the moment. I put on the shoes and started trudging in half-an-inch snow which barely covered the ground while reciting the lines I had memorized the night before.
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's a Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose..."
I stopped, catching myself from falling by clinging to a nearby tree. Walking away from it, I stumbled on a small stone which I was naive to render, and found myself hurtling toward the mansion's wall. A quick second and someone caught me before I smashed into the brick. Straightening in my rescuer's arms, I regained my composure and dared to look at my hero's face.
Remy.
"By any other word would smell as sweet." The words seeped from my lips as I lost myself in his glare. His red eyes were beckoning and winsome - not to mention beautiful. I think I could've drooled if he had not spoken me out of my trance.
"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself."
He grinned after his recitation of my line. Pushing myself away from his hold around me, (reluctant as I was) I dusted imaginary dirt off my clothes and tried to stand straight with the shoes I had on.
"You know the prose?" I asked, stilling the awkward silence. His grin widened.
"English. You have Ms. Fielton?"
"Unfortunately." I could've gazed at him all the longer if he hadn't snapped me out of it once again.
"De shoes--?" he asked, and I looked down. Grimacing, I took a hand to my neck, rubbing it ever more.
"Jean said I um, couldn't walk in them properly, so I had to practice." He smiled, a chortle deep in his throat. "So, um, weren't you out with Jean celebrating New Year's?"
He paused, as if to think over his answer. "She said she needed t' try contactin' some company about shoes. Thet t' color you's dress gonna be?" I shifted uneasily in the elevation of the shoes.
"Alas," I mumbled, and he laughed. Then he took my arm and led me around in a circle.
"It's easy," he declared, "like learning how to skate. Y' just need a tutor."
"That's funny, 'cause I don't know how to skate and never asked for no tutor." He could see my frustration and stopped in front of me with a steady look in his eye.
"Aw, chere," he said so casually, that I felt tears cling to my eyes, "just remember, you's doin' dis for Jean." I laughed as he pushed me away and I fell back into his arms. "An, you's doin' it fer me too." I stopped laughing and looked up at his sincere enough face. How could you, I thought, as I concentrated my being into him, how could you just raise me up like that and let me flop back into reality?
"Remy," I said, pushing my eyes down to my feet, "why did you ask Jean to marry you?"
He let go of my arms and stood me up straight. Then he looked directly into my eye and said, "Because wen you know somethin's right, wen you know you just want it, den you go for it."
"But do you love her?" the question was daunting. And bad enough, he didn't answer it. He was saved by Jean, who came around the corner and called us in.
"They're serving eggnog for the New Year!" she stated, and then noticed the shoes on my feet.
"So the lessons begun?" she asked, as I rounded the corner before her.
"Ever so," I answered, and hurried inside.
At the main room, I noticed Kurt was sitting over by the fire by himself, and I knew he was still peeved at what I had told him the days before. Taking off the shoes, I walked over and asked if I could sit by his side. He complied and I sat. Staring into the ember, I said, "Kurt, I'm sorry. Things haven't been going...right... lately and my feelings just caught up to me, that's all." Kurt looked at me, and sighed.
"I know, Rogue. But for now on, just try to be nicer, kay?" he asked, and I laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm already trying."
I didn't stay for eggnog. The cold of my shared room just seemed so much more joyous than that of sorrow and anguish I would feel if I were downstairs. Scott, I've noticed, is no where to be found.
January 2, 2003 6:17 p.m., The ride back to the Mansion in Jean's SUV
Jean is very panicky. She keeps yelling she only has four months until the wedding to get everything proper and ready. I, on the other hand, could care less.
She took her bridesmaids to the Bridal Shop down some twenty blocks to try on various dresses she had already selected. While we were loading into her SUV, Kitty took a glimpse at my pouch with you in it, and gave me a impish smile.
"A diary, heh," then she looked at me. "Rogue?" I gave her a hard look.
"How's bout you just not care, kay, Kit?" I said, and jumped into the back of the SUV, immediately getting hit by the fresh scent of pine from Jean's air freshener. The way there was quiet, despite the chattering of Jean as she conversed on the phone, no doubt to Remy. They had become attached and neither one wanted to break apart, much to everyone's distress. Xavier I think, was hit the hardest. He's the one paying for everything, Remy wise. Jean's parents are taking care of the rest.
But still, when you think about how many things a groom needs, it all adds up.
Danlie's Bridal Shoppe is a very classy, chic bridal shop with mannequins in the windows to display gorgeous dresses of iridescent sequins and sweet abstractions of silk. It's not like I haven't been inside - Ritzy and I usually come in and pull dresses from the rack and then trash the dressing rooms- but the feeling was never really mutual.
Now, it was for real.
Once there, I stood amidst the dampen snow and cascading lights, studying the flaunted dresses of white and red in a window specifically decorated to celebrate the New Year. A mannequin groom stood near a the door as we entered, the air hinted with the strong stench of champagne. Jean, who knows everyone everywhere, came up to the counter and rang the bell. I wandered away from the other bridesmaids and started absent-mindedly searching through a rack of dresses before hearing Jean scream, "But I want to see Danlie! She said she had my dresses stashed in that room behind you!!" I shook my head and continued mindlessly searching through the rack. Separating a few dresses, I suddenly caught sight of someone, obviously watching me from the other side of the rack. Going back to the two before, I separated them again before seeing recognizing my stalker as..
"St. John!" I cried, a bit happily and he gave me a beautiful grin which reminded me of Remy a little. Tears sprung to the corners of my eyes.
"Well, if isn't Remy's Sheila," he said casually. I went to the other side and he gathered me into an amiable hug. When he finally let go, I noticed his features had softened.
"Don't cry, love," he cooed, and I was surprised to find my face wet. Wiping my cheeks, I heard my name being called, and came over to the other side where Kitty stood with Ororo, Amara, and Jubilation. I introduced them to St. John and he explained why he was here in the first place.
"I'm here with Peter. Remy called and told me to wait fer him here. Said I was an escort?"
"And you are," someone said from behind. Remy was leaning on the groom that greeted us at the door, looking like he'd been there all day. I felt my heart skip a beat as he joined our small circle.
"Where's Jean?" he asked, and then my heart dropped to my stomach. Of course, what did I expect other than him thinking about his fiancé?
"Screaming. Pacing and panicky. She can't seem to get a hold of our dresses, not to mention herself," Amara explained, and Remy got out of his tight standing position rather slowly.
"I'll, um, go find her den," he said and left us. I looked after him with a sour face and John noticed, much to my despair.
"Don't you go an' spit your rancor. He's up to his own bizzo," he told me in a scolding manner. I glared at him, nonchalantly.
"Don't tell me what to do," I rasped at him, my voice bitter and brittle. He looked pained, as if struck. And then again, who that I've spoken to so far, hasn't?
I really need to live up to my priorities.
So, I ventured away from them yet again, guilty that I had back lashed like that. It's a feeling that I could never bring myself to live with, and whenever my eyes caught his, I looked away with embarrassment and dismay.
Jean found our dresses with the help of Remy and made us try them on. They were pink with spaghetti straps that held the dress on the shoulders - not to mention, no gloves. When I saw mine, I looked at her with deluging aberration.
"I can't wear this," I commented, swinging the dress on the hanger as if to see if it would magically turn into an overcoat or something with sleeves. Jean looked at me impudently.
"Yes you can," she said with the wry look she gives when she speaks of politics and tries to get a point across. I stared at her angered.
"Maybe I can, but what if I bump into someone with no sleeves? What do you say about that? I don't want to cause pandemonium on your wedding day," I said, hoping she would articulate on the matter. Instead, she entrusted it into my gloved arms and growled.
"Maybe. Try it on," she ordered, and pointed me off into the dreaded dresser. I frowned my whole way there.
How Jean knew my size, I am without knowledge, but it fit perfectly when I finally got it on. The dress itself was a marvel. Completely modern, it stretched to the ground, cascading over my boots, and finally ending in silky lace extravagantly scalloped. The straps sat snugly on my shoulders, barring the creamy tone of white they displayed. It neither was adorned with sequins or arrayed with ribbons. Jean had quite some taste. My arms lay limp by my sides while I spun around on the elevated block I was on, as if intending to chase my train. And aside from my gloved hands, I am pleased to say, I was pretty. Fixing my hair, I was having a heck of a time in front of the three mirrors circling the dressing room until someone said, "Well, someone looks like they're having a great time."
I spun around, almost falling off the block. My anticipation ceased when I caught sight of the speaker. It was John once again. Straightening myself, I looked around as if to see if Remy was with him. John caught my eye and huffed.
"He's trying on his tux," he said, reading my mind and entering the room I had forgotten to lock. John had on his tux already, but he had done a sloppy job on the buttons and bow tie. I smirked in my discretion. Getting down from the block, I motioned towards him in blunt fashion.
"Am I that conspicuous?" I asked, meeting his eyes of bluest blue. He racked a smirk.
"Sheila, I couldn't read anything more clearer." I gave him a bleak smile and brought my hands to correctly button his tux. He observed thoughtfully and met my eyes again.
"You're beautiful, Rogue." He made the words stick. I felt myself go red and moved my hands to his bow tie.
"So do I have to clad myself in pink to be called 'beautiful'?" I asked him, and he looked a little culpable.
"Sorry," his face was apologetic. I brought a hand up and laid it on his breastbone.
"No, don't," I said, pushing a small smile, "I'm kidding."
He studied my face and I tried to make him believe I was sincere, but he was smarter than I thought. What scared me was that he was a lot like Remy, same gestures, same reading minds, same winsome and beautiful grin. He held out his elbow, waiting for me to take his arm. Hey, what the heck.
Jean was a bit peeved that I decided to take a few minutes getting John ready, but then she shifted moods and announced the partners: Ororo and Logan, Jubes and Evan, Amara and Roberto, John and me, Kitty and Peter. I looked over at Remy who was staring hard at John and back at Jean. Surely he didn't come up with this formation, did he?
Probably, I wasn't sure.
Jean was happy with the dresses, thank God. She said she never seen anything better on me. And Remy laughed when she said it. He is obviously as compulsive and thoughtless as I am.
Anyway, the truth is I am pleased with the turnabouts today. John is coming to the rehearsal tomorrow, so we'll practice then. I should go, Kitty keeps looking over to see what I've written.
That is all, no more and less.
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Aubs2006: Thanks for your review and adding me to your favorite's list! Alas, I think I might lay off a bit of the bashing on Jean for the latter chapters to throw you all off or something :0
Nicky: I hope this one will be just as good and successful as it's previous book also!
Starlightz6: Phft. Being a bridemaid's was the last thing on Rogue's mind, and everyone's at that! But think about it, she could get closer to the one she longs for (Remy), no?
Erica: Hope you caught the dedication! This one 'seems' longer, I hope ^.^'
Sujakata: Rogue/Remy action as you requested! There'll be more and other things along the way before the big day!
Vagabond: I had no idea you put me on your favorite's list! Thank you so much! I have to remember to put it as this story as a sequel. Thanks for the head-up!
Klucky: Well, I'm glad it's not a scogue either (never understood the coupling in the first place), but you never know, Rogue just might not win Remy! *_*
Evolutionary Spider: *grumbles in despair* I'm completely suffused with compliments on my writing! Thank you, I feel so loved (hehehe) It encourages me on my aspirations on being a writer. Much obliged, Spider.
Ishandahalf: Ha! I totally agree with you on the Jean controlling Remy thing! And I hope this chapter fulfills your Romy wit!
linkin-spike: I love stories that revovle around growing romance with petty humor! I try to write about characters that relate to what you would read, because if you don't connect with the characters, what's the point of reading at all? Thank you for your compliments on my writing, I'm much appreciative.
Lilsweetcherryblossom: I read your last review and thought, gosh, I can't make them wait THAT long! Glad you're happy with my speedy sequel and the chapters to come!
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG to PG-13 whether there is language or not
Disclaimer: I don't not own any of the characters I mention in this story and its chapters.
Chapter Two: High Heels and Dresses
Dedication: To Erica, hope this chapter is long enough for you :) Enjoy!
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December 31, 2002 9:55 p.m., On the satin couch at the foot of the stairs
It is too cold to write in my shared room, but when I tried to turn on the thermostat, Xavier caught me and scolded me on how I insist to pursue the rising heat bill. Then he finally sent me down here to burn a fire and warm myself. The hour is waning - I must hurry if I should write any more.
The day was dreary, its noon congested with gray rain clouds hovering overhead. I was up in Storm's built-in loft (where she moved half her plants because she keeps too many in her room) memorizing lines from Romeo and Juliet for English, when there came a knock on the door and a second later, Jean appeared, clad in white. Her hair was twisted to the back of her head and she walked with a bounce. Something was obviously making her happy. She grinned with all her teeth when she saw me.
"Hello Rogue!" she called loudly, though we were only about a foot from each other, "soaking some sun?"
"Couldn't annoy anyone else today, huh?" I asked flatly. Jean ignored the question and came over to my side. She then took out two parcels: one light green and the other light pink.
"Pick one," she said, the smile still playing on her lips. I rose an eyebrow and held the book closer to my face.
"Go away," I commanded, and resumed my memorizing. Jean sighed with despair.
"Rogue, please," she whined like a school girl.
"Haven't I done enough already?" I asked, cocking an eye at her. She grimaced and whined again.
"Please please please?"
"Go AWAY," I said again, this time motioning her away with my hand. She stood by my side a minute longer before tearing the book away from my hands and throwing it over her shoulder like a ball. I retorted with a shrill scream. "What is your problem, Jean? Go ask Kitty or someone else." A look at Jean and you could tell she wasn't satisfied. So I then took the parcels and threw them over my shoulders like Jean had done with my book. She gave me an exasperated look and took up the parcels again.
"Rogue, pink or green, that's all I'm asking."
"I'm no wedding planner."
"No, you're the bridesmaid and so your decision will affect what color your dress shall be." That made me think. Gurgling deep in my throat, I pointed a reluctant finger at the pink since I didn't want Kitty complaining about wearing green. Jean looked delighted with my choice.
"So pink they will be," she said delightedly. I shook my head in irritation. Jean looked down at me, glowing.
"What are you still doing here?" I asked, furrowing my brow. Her smile faded a bit. She then bent over and picked up a box I had failed to notice which was waiting by her feet.
"What's that?" I asked, making my words bite. Jean opened the box and took out the ugliest, most revolting pair of shoes you've ever seen.
Well, that is if you're Jean. Then everything in your eyes is perfect.
"Try them on," she offered, extending her hands so that I had a closer look of the horrendous shoes. They were pink, for one thing, and pointed and had pink bows at the top of it. Not to mention, the heel was like six inches high.
"Uh, uh, no way," I said, getting up and backing away. Unfortunately, the loft is only so wide, and I was cornered by plants to my left and right and Jean closing in on me.
"Well, why not? Aren't they the most darling things you've ever seen?" she asked, innocently. I thought, is she blind? Is she without any taste? Then again, she is Jean.
"Not in this lifetime," I muttered, but loud enough for her to hear. She scowled.
"Don't make me..."
"Go away!!!" I screamed. She stopped closing in on me, and I stood there, trembling with loathsome fear. There was a crash of thunder and the lights went out. Rain splattered against the glass windows as the lights flickered back on and Jean stood there, her face unmoved.
"Are you done?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, " because I am after all trying to do my best to make my wedding perfect! You know, if Remy had never suggested you being one of my bridesmaid, maybe I could've gotten a better answer from Rahne! But no, I'm stuck having you as one of mine! So deal with it, as I am, or best be pulverized! The sooner you comply, the sooner I can get to other things!" All the while she was talking, I was thinking of how Remy had decided to make me a bridesmaid. How could he?! Of all the things he thinks of, he does another dumb thing like this...
I pulled off one of my Doc Martens and slid my foot into one of the shoes. Jean studied it with a scowl and threw her hands down.
"Take it off. They are hideous..." she looked away as I kicked it off and was about to put on back my boot, when Jean took out another pair, this time green. So I tried those on and she smiled. I had to admit, they were a little more decent than the last pair.
"I could tell the company to send in pink ones. Walk around please?" she asked me. Now, that's something I just couldn't do. I mean, the heels were as high as my boots, but at least I pulled the boot with my whole leg. These shoes could take some work. I tried lifting my left foot, put it down and did the same with my right. Balancing on the heel, I almost slipped and caught on to a shelf. I saw the intolerance in Jean's eyes.
"What happened to you? Didn't you wear my red shoes?"
"Yes, but they weren't as high as these!" I said, and took them off. But Jean wouldn't take them. She said that I had to 'practice' walking in them. Never in my life did I want or even need to 'practice' walking in high heels! Never!
"You need to practice if you plan to walk down the aisle without falling flat on your face," she said, walking to the door, "You don't want my guests to think my bridesmaid isn't best enough to hold the title, let alone walk in high heels." Then she was gone before I could curse her.
I don't -plan- to walk in them, nor did I ever -want- to walk in anything down any stupid aisle! This is all Remy's fault, to say the least.
January 1, 2003 5:34 p.m., Under the stars in Storm's Loft
I went outside to practice walking around in high heels and flaunt to the world how good I am in them. Of course, it was 6 degrees outside, but everyone was a bustle indoors. The tree was getting pulled down, and everyone was putting away decorations. I couldn't walk in my shared room because Kitty decided to do vacuuming and told me that she was in the mood to clean my side. And Ororo was up in the loft planting and watering so I wasn't allowed in there when she was with her 'babies'. So, outside was the best place to work at the moment. I put on the shoes and started trudging in half-an-inch snow which barely covered the ground while reciting the lines I had memorized the night before.
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's a Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose..."
I stopped, catching myself from falling by clinging to a nearby tree. Walking away from it, I stumbled on a small stone which I was naive to render, and found myself hurtling toward the mansion's wall. A quick second and someone caught me before I smashed into the brick. Straightening in my rescuer's arms, I regained my composure and dared to look at my hero's face.
Remy.
"By any other word would smell as sweet." The words seeped from my lips as I lost myself in his glare. His red eyes were beckoning and winsome - not to mention beautiful. I think I could've drooled if he had not spoken me out of my trance.
"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself."
He grinned after his recitation of my line. Pushing myself away from his hold around me, (reluctant as I was) I dusted imaginary dirt off my clothes and tried to stand straight with the shoes I had on.
"You know the prose?" I asked, stilling the awkward silence. His grin widened.
"English. You have Ms. Fielton?"
"Unfortunately." I could've gazed at him all the longer if he hadn't snapped me out of it once again.
"De shoes--?" he asked, and I looked down. Grimacing, I took a hand to my neck, rubbing it ever more.
"Jean said I um, couldn't walk in them properly, so I had to practice." He smiled, a chortle deep in his throat. "So, um, weren't you out with Jean celebrating New Year's?"
He paused, as if to think over his answer. "She said she needed t' try contactin' some company about shoes. Thet t' color you's dress gonna be?" I shifted uneasily in the elevation of the shoes.
"Alas," I mumbled, and he laughed. Then he took my arm and led me around in a circle.
"It's easy," he declared, "like learning how to skate. Y' just need a tutor."
"That's funny, 'cause I don't know how to skate and never asked for no tutor." He could see my frustration and stopped in front of me with a steady look in his eye.
"Aw, chere," he said so casually, that I felt tears cling to my eyes, "just remember, you's doin' dis for Jean." I laughed as he pushed me away and I fell back into his arms. "An, you's doin' it fer me too." I stopped laughing and looked up at his sincere enough face. How could you, I thought, as I concentrated my being into him, how could you just raise me up like that and let me flop back into reality?
"Remy," I said, pushing my eyes down to my feet, "why did you ask Jean to marry you?"
He let go of my arms and stood me up straight. Then he looked directly into my eye and said, "Because wen you know somethin's right, wen you know you just want it, den you go for it."
"But do you love her?" the question was daunting. And bad enough, he didn't answer it. He was saved by Jean, who came around the corner and called us in.
"They're serving eggnog for the New Year!" she stated, and then noticed the shoes on my feet.
"So the lessons begun?" she asked, as I rounded the corner before her.
"Ever so," I answered, and hurried inside.
At the main room, I noticed Kurt was sitting over by the fire by himself, and I knew he was still peeved at what I had told him the days before. Taking off the shoes, I walked over and asked if I could sit by his side. He complied and I sat. Staring into the ember, I said, "Kurt, I'm sorry. Things haven't been going...right... lately and my feelings just caught up to me, that's all." Kurt looked at me, and sighed.
"I know, Rogue. But for now on, just try to be nicer, kay?" he asked, and I laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm already trying."
I didn't stay for eggnog. The cold of my shared room just seemed so much more joyous than that of sorrow and anguish I would feel if I were downstairs. Scott, I've noticed, is no where to be found.
January 2, 2003 6:17 p.m., The ride back to the Mansion in Jean's SUV
Jean is very panicky. She keeps yelling she only has four months until the wedding to get everything proper and ready. I, on the other hand, could care less.
She took her bridesmaids to the Bridal Shop down some twenty blocks to try on various dresses she had already selected. While we were loading into her SUV, Kitty took a glimpse at my pouch with you in it, and gave me a impish smile.
"A diary, heh," then she looked at me. "Rogue?" I gave her a hard look.
"How's bout you just not care, kay, Kit?" I said, and jumped into the back of the SUV, immediately getting hit by the fresh scent of pine from Jean's air freshener. The way there was quiet, despite the chattering of Jean as she conversed on the phone, no doubt to Remy. They had become attached and neither one wanted to break apart, much to everyone's distress. Xavier I think, was hit the hardest. He's the one paying for everything, Remy wise. Jean's parents are taking care of the rest.
But still, when you think about how many things a groom needs, it all adds up.
Danlie's Bridal Shoppe is a very classy, chic bridal shop with mannequins in the windows to display gorgeous dresses of iridescent sequins and sweet abstractions of silk. It's not like I haven't been inside - Ritzy and I usually come in and pull dresses from the rack and then trash the dressing rooms- but the feeling was never really mutual.
Now, it was for real.
Once there, I stood amidst the dampen snow and cascading lights, studying the flaunted dresses of white and red in a window specifically decorated to celebrate the New Year. A mannequin groom stood near a the door as we entered, the air hinted with the strong stench of champagne. Jean, who knows everyone everywhere, came up to the counter and rang the bell. I wandered away from the other bridesmaids and started absent-mindedly searching through a rack of dresses before hearing Jean scream, "But I want to see Danlie! She said she had my dresses stashed in that room behind you!!" I shook my head and continued mindlessly searching through the rack. Separating a few dresses, I suddenly caught sight of someone, obviously watching me from the other side of the rack. Going back to the two before, I separated them again before seeing recognizing my stalker as..
"St. John!" I cried, a bit happily and he gave me a beautiful grin which reminded me of Remy a little. Tears sprung to the corners of my eyes.
"Well, if isn't Remy's Sheila," he said casually. I went to the other side and he gathered me into an amiable hug. When he finally let go, I noticed his features had softened.
"Don't cry, love," he cooed, and I was surprised to find my face wet. Wiping my cheeks, I heard my name being called, and came over to the other side where Kitty stood with Ororo, Amara, and Jubilation. I introduced them to St. John and he explained why he was here in the first place.
"I'm here with Peter. Remy called and told me to wait fer him here. Said I was an escort?"
"And you are," someone said from behind. Remy was leaning on the groom that greeted us at the door, looking like he'd been there all day. I felt my heart skip a beat as he joined our small circle.
"Where's Jean?" he asked, and then my heart dropped to my stomach. Of course, what did I expect other than him thinking about his fiancé?
"Screaming. Pacing and panicky. She can't seem to get a hold of our dresses, not to mention herself," Amara explained, and Remy got out of his tight standing position rather slowly.
"I'll, um, go find her den," he said and left us. I looked after him with a sour face and John noticed, much to my despair.
"Don't you go an' spit your rancor. He's up to his own bizzo," he told me in a scolding manner. I glared at him, nonchalantly.
"Don't tell me what to do," I rasped at him, my voice bitter and brittle. He looked pained, as if struck. And then again, who that I've spoken to so far, hasn't?
I really need to live up to my priorities.
So, I ventured away from them yet again, guilty that I had back lashed like that. It's a feeling that I could never bring myself to live with, and whenever my eyes caught his, I looked away with embarrassment and dismay.
Jean found our dresses with the help of Remy and made us try them on. They were pink with spaghetti straps that held the dress on the shoulders - not to mention, no gloves. When I saw mine, I looked at her with deluging aberration.
"I can't wear this," I commented, swinging the dress on the hanger as if to see if it would magically turn into an overcoat or something with sleeves. Jean looked at me impudently.
"Yes you can," she said with the wry look she gives when she speaks of politics and tries to get a point across. I stared at her angered.
"Maybe I can, but what if I bump into someone with no sleeves? What do you say about that? I don't want to cause pandemonium on your wedding day," I said, hoping she would articulate on the matter. Instead, she entrusted it into my gloved arms and growled.
"Maybe. Try it on," she ordered, and pointed me off into the dreaded dresser. I frowned my whole way there.
How Jean knew my size, I am without knowledge, but it fit perfectly when I finally got it on. The dress itself was a marvel. Completely modern, it stretched to the ground, cascading over my boots, and finally ending in silky lace extravagantly scalloped. The straps sat snugly on my shoulders, barring the creamy tone of white they displayed. It neither was adorned with sequins or arrayed with ribbons. Jean had quite some taste. My arms lay limp by my sides while I spun around on the elevated block I was on, as if intending to chase my train. And aside from my gloved hands, I am pleased to say, I was pretty. Fixing my hair, I was having a heck of a time in front of the three mirrors circling the dressing room until someone said, "Well, someone looks like they're having a great time."
I spun around, almost falling off the block. My anticipation ceased when I caught sight of the speaker. It was John once again. Straightening myself, I looked around as if to see if Remy was with him. John caught my eye and huffed.
"He's trying on his tux," he said, reading my mind and entering the room I had forgotten to lock. John had on his tux already, but he had done a sloppy job on the buttons and bow tie. I smirked in my discretion. Getting down from the block, I motioned towards him in blunt fashion.
"Am I that conspicuous?" I asked, meeting his eyes of bluest blue. He racked a smirk.
"Sheila, I couldn't read anything more clearer." I gave him a bleak smile and brought my hands to correctly button his tux. He observed thoughtfully and met my eyes again.
"You're beautiful, Rogue." He made the words stick. I felt myself go red and moved my hands to his bow tie.
"So do I have to clad myself in pink to be called 'beautiful'?" I asked him, and he looked a little culpable.
"Sorry," his face was apologetic. I brought a hand up and laid it on his breastbone.
"No, don't," I said, pushing a small smile, "I'm kidding."
He studied my face and I tried to make him believe I was sincere, but he was smarter than I thought. What scared me was that he was a lot like Remy, same gestures, same reading minds, same winsome and beautiful grin. He held out his elbow, waiting for me to take his arm. Hey, what the heck.
Jean was a bit peeved that I decided to take a few minutes getting John ready, but then she shifted moods and announced the partners: Ororo and Logan, Jubes and Evan, Amara and Roberto, John and me, Kitty and Peter. I looked over at Remy who was staring hard at John and back at Jean. Surely he didn't come up with this formation, did he?
Probably, I wasn't sure.
Jean was happy with the dresses, thank God. She said she never seen anything better on me. And Remy laughed when she said it. He is obviously as compulsive and thoughtless as I am.
Anyway, the truth is I am pleased with the turnabouts today. John is coming to the rehearsal tomorrow, so we'll practice then. I should go, Kitty keeps looking over to see what I've written.
That is all, no more and less.
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Aubs2006: Thanks for your review and adding me to your favorite's list! Alas, I think I might lay off a bit of the bashing on Jean for the latter chapters to throw you all off or something :0
Nicky: I hope this one will be just as good and successful as it's previous book also!
Starlightz6: Phft. Being a bridemaid's was the last thing on Rogue's mind, and everyone's at that! But think about it, she could get closer to the one she longs for (Remy), no?
Erica: Hope you caught the dedication! This one 'seems' longer, I hope ^.^'
Sujakata: Rogue/Remy action as you requested! There'll be more and other things along the way before the big day!
Vagabond: I had no idea you put me on your favorite's list! Thank you so much! I have to remember to put it as this story as a sequel. Thanks for the head-up!
Klucky: Well, I'm glad it's not a scogue either (never understood the coupling in the first place), but you never know, Rogue just might not win Remy! *_*
Evolutionary Spider: *grumbles in despair* I'm completely suffused with compliments on my writing! Thank you, I feel so loved (hehehe) It encourages me on my aspirations on being a writer. Much obliged, Spider.
Ishandahalf: Ha! I totally agree with you on the Jean controlling Remy thing! And I hope this chapter fulfills your Romy wit!
linkin-spike: I love stories that revovle around growing romance with petty humor! I try to write about characters that relate to what you would read, because if you don't connect with the characters, what's the point of reading at all? Thank you for your compliments on my writing, I'm much appreciative.
Lilsweetcherryblossom: I read your last review and thought, gosh, I can't make them wait THAT long! Glad you're happy with my speedy sequel and the chapters to come!