Snow in April: A Wedding Story
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG- PG-13 Depending if there be language
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men characters and Bayville places Evo focuses on in its show. Everything else belongs to me.
Chapter Fourteen: Turning Point
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
February 20, 2003
I'm hiding under my bed, hoping no one will be able to find me, mostly Jean. This is terrible, terrible, terrible. She calls everyone down, right, and I'm like, another wedding announcement? And it was: but she was like all upset and everything and I was wondering if it was because she couldn't find a wedding dress or gained a pound or whatever she has to cry about, but it wasn't what I expected.
"People," she said, hands clasped together on her jeans, "there's been a rearrangement of the...er...arrangement." I rolled my eyes and looked around the room, trying hard not to pay attention. Scott was sulking in the shadows - he was proved fine by Xavier and now will have to move back to his room. Jean, I heard was relieved, since Scott started to ask her to wash him.
"My sister will not be able to make it to my wedding," she said, her voice breaking. Ororo handed her a tissue, she blew, and continued. "So, now the space for Maid of Honor has been reopened." It was like somebody dropped out of the Olympics. I really wanted to fall asleep, really, I did. "And after much deciding, I've chosen ~Rogue~ to be my new maid of honor."
I choked on my spit; wished I had heard wrong. Glancing around I saw Logan put a hand over his eyes while shaking his head, Jubilee frowning twistedly, Xavier falling off his wheelchair again.
"What -why????" I asked, standing up. Jean, again, looked appalled.
"Well..." she said, recollecting herself.
"Why do you have to drag me into this stupid thing??" Then raced up the stairs.
So there you have it. I'm not coming out unless Jean changes her mind. She can do without a maid of honor, much less a sixth bridesmaid.
Later, 5:13 p.m.
Jean came in, got down on her knees, and -begged-.
I am not kidding.
She was all, Rogue, and I was hiding so I didn't answer and she came in anyway, scuffling her socked feet and continued to call my name.
"You can't hide forever," she said, and looked behind Kitty's bed. "Come out, Roguie. I won't hurt you." I guess she saw my hand or something, because she then said, "Fine. You want to play this game, then might as well play it well." Then she got on my bed and started jumping. Everytime the matress went down, I was pressed to the floor. I think I have matress burn on my shoulders from all of that.
Finally I screamed, "Get off! I'm coming out!!" So she did and I did and we looked at each other for a moment.
It was -very- disgruntling.
"Well?" I asked, sitting on my bed and rubbing my shoulders. She looked at me, and started playing with my covers.
"You still haven't made your bed," she commenced, and I slapped her hands away.
"What do you want with me?! I'm trying to stay sane eating your cake, sampling your music, wearing your damn dresses! Now you want me to be your maid of honor???" She looked at me, unruffled.
"Yes." Was all she said. I wanted to pounce, take her throat in my hands and choke her. Again, I reminded myself to stretch my patience. The time will come when I'll finally crack and kill her. But not now. "Look Rogue. I know you want to be free from this whole mess, but hear me out. You don't even know the reason why I picked you."
"Do I -want- to hear it?" I asked, giving her a hard look. She ignored it and pressed on.
"I mean, I rely on you for most of my wedding, and all those things you've mentioned before really made me think. And when my sister cancelled on me, I thought, Rogue deserves this place more than anyone. And I thought you'd be happy." Her eyes blurred, and she started to cry. Cry, cry, cry. Well, I've seen her technique work with Remy and Logan and Xavier, but it won't work with me.
I used up all my soft side for Peter.
Then she got down on her knees and started to beg - even threw her arms around my legs and cried and wailed. That's what got to me, seeing her being low for once and finally I cracked.
"Fine. I'll be your stupid maid of honor." She got up and smiled. Then she just stood there, smiling like a dratted idiot and I asked, "What are waiting for?"
"Can I hug you?" she asked. I looked at her, dismayed.
"I gue--" then she threw her arms around me and rushed out the door screaming that she was going to bring me to Danlie's first thing tomorrow.
Good GoD. There goes MY sanity.
February 21, 2003
My dress is peach. I mean, it's the color peach and its - well, Jean bought it. It's like, getting resown so I guess it's all right.
She took me to Danlie's just like she promised. Danlie, I'm sure, wasn't too happy with the gown change. But no matter. She took us to the back room, where she keeps expensive dresses of all sorts. Then she left Jean to prowl through. It took her a couple seconds to find the peach dress. She motioned me to go to the dressing rooms to try it on.
So I was, and didn't like it very much - too many peticoats. Then when I had finally zipped the back up, there came a knock on the door.
"Jean, I hate it," I shouted, through the door, glancing back up at the mirror. There was a shuffling of feet, and then a low voice.
"It isn't Jean. Can I come in?" Wondering, I got off the elevated block and opened the door slightly. A glint of red and my heart skipped a beat.
"Remy?" my voice croaked; I immediately turned red in spite. Then opening the door a bit wider, I felt my throat rasp in genuine surprise - it was Scott.
"Don't mock me," he said, still standing by the door. For a minute we were silent, letting the door do its job. Then I spoke up.
"Um, why are you here?" A corner of his mouth stood up; he looked conspicuously giddy.
"Jean said you would be here." I looked at him for a moment longer, annoyed.
"Good answer," I replied, and tried to shut the door, but he caught it with the palm of his hand.
"Wait, Rogue." I held the doorknob tightly. My pride hurt, I let him dare to keep me waiting. He did. "I was just thinking--"
"If this is about another effort to get Jean..."
"No, I -- I already lost that battle." He looked slightly depressed; his shoulders sagged. I sighed; tapped his upper arm.
"It ain't a war," I reasoned, and he glanced up at me.
"Uh, yeah." Then, a smile. It was small but it told me a lot. "I was just thinking about, well, you know, how you helped me -try- to get Jean..."
"Don't remind me," I said, and he stifled a small laugh.
"Okay, but I wasn't directing this conversation at that direction..." He paused and glanced up at me. "Look, I could help you with like maybe your geometry homework or something..."
"I don't have homework, Scott." I sighed, and rolled my eyes. "Look, I can't help you with Jean..."
"This isn't about Jean," he told me, angrily. I stood; startled, as he continued, spitting fire. "Why does everything I try to do have to conclude with having to do with Jean? I'm through with that wench..." He stopped, recalling his words. Obviously stunned, I nodded, understandingly.
"I-I'm sorry, Scott. I guess I'm just used with you trying to use me for -that wench-." I tried to close the door again, but he caught it once more. I looked at him, growing irritated.
"I know. I owe you. Big time." Again, that small smile.
"I'm listening," I said, standing by the doorframe, interested. He came closer, his face inches from mine.
"How about dinner? At Piccolo's?" I scanned my mind, remembering the last time we went there: disaster.
"Will Jean be there?" Behind his red glasses, I saw his eyes close.
"No, Rogue. We've already been through this..."
"I'm just clarifying things." He smiled, bringing a hand and playing with the ruffles on the dress I was wearing.
"So? Is that a yes?"
"I guess," I said, taking his hand away from my dress. He looked at me like an idiot and grinned.
"I'll meet you there at six," he confirmed and went on his way.
So. Dinner. With Scott. I'm just saying I cannot be anymore interested. And without Jean, this could get VERY interesting.
Later, 8:25 p.m.
Scott stood me up.
THAT DIRTBAG STOOD ME UP!!!!!
I was sitting there, in the reserved table, waiting and waiting for that stupid a-hole to show up, and I'm continuously looking up at the clock, then whenever somebody came, then back at the clock. He said six, I know he did, I kept thinking, crushing the breadsticks under my fingers. Twice, a busboy tried to fill my glass or make me order, but I said I'd wait some more.
Boy, was I stupid.
So, seven o' clock rolls along, and then guess who comes in. Logan and Ororo. I couldn't let them see me, a loner even outside of school (and the excuse of Scott stood me up is not really thrilling to speak of) so I darted out the back door. Little did I know that there was an alley that rounded the restaurant, but I wasn't really aware and ran into the other side of town. It was quite dark and I couldn't see much, but I could smell stray bits of alcohol and cigarette smoke from the hookers and the drug dealers (Bayville ain't the greatest back there). And so I'm walking and everything and when everything just cannot get any worse, it starts to snow.
And hard. So there I was, walking to GOd-knows-where with no sweater (for once, I thought Scott wasn't the a-hole he is and wore the red dress that Xavier gave me), under the falling snow. I was freezing, stood up, deserted. And walking through the streets of Bad Bayville. A couple of times, some drunkards staggered across the walk, shouting insolence and insults to hookers, and one actually went up to be and asked to come with him to some shack. I ran, daresay, away from him.
A little farther down the street, I saw a small light come from under a light post. And under that, was a stand with a person sitting behind it. Walking briskly past it, I heard a bellowing voice say, "Well, miss. You don look like anyone from dis part o' town. How 'bout coming' over an' playing cards a bit?" I looked over at him, wondering. His face was covered with his hood, and under his hand was a couple of cards.
"Play fo' what?" I asked, keeping my distance. I heard him snort a laugh and laid down three cards.
"Find the King between these two Queens." I came over as he mixed the cards. He stopped; I picked the middle one. He turned it over - it was a Queen.
"Oh, so sorry, miss," he said, and then turned over the right card next to the one I picked. It was the King.
"I don't win the King," I mumbled, looking at the person. There was a swift pause; the man removed his hood. I don't know what hit harder - me against Remy or the table with his cards, but I could've cared less. I threw my arms around him and knocked him hard to the ground, but he was laughing, his arms around me.
"Cherie, dis ain't too good f' business," he said, but didn't let go of me. Like I would've let go of him. We sat up, and he took out his trench coat and wrapped it around me. "What happened? It's not like you's be roaming dis side of Bayville, any," he whispered, stroking my hair away from my face. I looked at him, discerning. He was concerned - his eyes crimson against black, hard and crippling. I looked away, my face burning. I told him about how Scott wanted to repay me and that he never showed. Remy listened, putting away his stand and walking with me into the familiar side of Bayville.
"So that explains de dress?" I flushed, angered with myself.
"Don't remind me." He looked away for a moment, collecting.
"Could o' been a good date?" I glanced at him quickly.
"No," I said, clutching his arm tighter. "I wouldn't say it was gonna even be a date." He stifled a laugh and suddenly stopped walking.
"The Cafe's still open," he muttered. I looked over his shoulder and spotted the small Clairemont's shop, glowing brilliantly against the snow. "C'mon. Mon treat." So we walked in and ordered two mochas, taking a seat inside because they had cleared the wicker sets (Clairemont's appreciates their scenics but more, the furniture). Snow melting under us, we drank in silence, before Remy pulled out the shaker containing the powdered hazlenut.
"Go on - 'fore they find out," he cautioned, and I poured and hid between my hands. There was a pause, before Remy pulled out something in a small box. I drew in my breath before realizing what it was.
"It's beautfiul, ain't it?" he pushed it towards me and I could feel tears clouding my eyes. It really was something - dimonds encrusted in a silver band. He took it out and handed it to me. "Inside the band, there's an engravement." I looked at it, reading it aloud.
"Together Forever." My eyes shifted away, putting it back into the box. My fingers shook violently as I pushed it back him before he laid a hand on my own.
"Somethin' wrong, Cherie?" I pulled my hand away from him, getting up and knocking the table a bit. Coffee spilled unto the counter.
"I - I need air." I rushed to the door, tears falling down my cheeks. The cold air stung; I felt my throat throb. Sniffling, I stared out into the distance just as someone pushed off the wall, and I had to look twice before confirming it was John. He came over to me just as Remy joined my side. Instantly, their eyes met. John's flashed violently, like a sea before a storm.
"Cherie, you better come back inside," Remy whispered, but John took my arm and pulled me towards him.
"There's a little thing called abstinece, Rems. Shouldn't ya be with Jean?" Remy's eyes narrowed.
"What are you doin' here, Johnny? Dis ain't no place fo' you." John sneered; entwined his fingers with mine.
"If Rogue's here, then I'm right at home." Remy balled his fists angrily. I saw what was about to happen and ripped my hand from John's.
"You both are insane!" I screamed, and ran away. I mean, now that I think of it, I should've said something like, I hate you both! Or I hope you both die! But I really wasn't thinking straight right at that moment.
I ran all the way home. I guess I would've died from the cold without the trench coat still around me, but I pulled it off of me and threw it at Jean, who was passing by in the hallway.
If anyone asks, I'm under my sheets, dead, because that's what I'd rather be anyway.
Later Later, 2:23 a.m.
John called. It was like two in the morning and I was sleeping, and then all of a sudden, the phone rings and Kitty growls, "Get it, it's your line!" So I roll over and answer it.
"Hello?"
"G'day, Sheila."
"Tell me why I shouldn't hang up on you."
"For what reason? The Remy one or how early it is?"
"The early issue." Pause.
"So are ya gonna hang up?"
"Tell me what you want, dammit. I'm awake already anyway."
"Well...first off, are ya mad at me?"
"What makes you ask?"
"The fact ya ran away kinda gave it away."
"(sigh) I wasn't...I didn't run away for that."
"Was it what I said?"
"No, I know your point. It was well subsided, of course."
"Ah, big words used incorrectly. Dat sounds like ya, Rogue."
"I just can't understand, John. He asks me to a cup of coffee and then when everything's going great, he shows me Jean's ring. You should've seen it - But it also told me I am just a friend. Just a friend. So I was kinda glad you came in when you did."
"Well, Sheila, what did ya expect? He's gettin' married, fer Pete's Sake."
"I know. But how can he be so blind? I mean, she's not even his type..."
"Think of this, Sheila, would he ask her ta marry him if he didn't know dat?"
"Well, then, what do you think it is about?"
"Well...I think it's because he's in love. Wouldn't ya? Wait...don't answer dat."
"I wasn't gonna. So, what do you think I should do?"
"Ya could...move on," he said.
"Move on?"
"Or...tell him you love him."
"Are you INSANE?!"
"I'm implying the probable. Reconsider it? Fer Remy?" I looked away, listening to Kitty's breathing in the darkness.
"John," I said, playing with the cord. "I do love him. You know that."
"Of course." He sounded far-off; remote.
"And what will happen if I do? You know, tell him?"
"Well, he'll say dat's nice, shake your hand, and then marry Jean."
"Or?" I couldn't help asking for an alternative.
"Or he'll say thank ya, shake yer hand, and walk away without marrying Jean. Satisfy ya any?"
"You mean you weren't serious?"
"(Sigh) Reconsider okay, Sheila? For my sanity?"
"Hey, you're the one who called."
"Good night, Rogue." Then he hung up. Thinking about it, I doubt Remy would actually care. But John has a point.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Responses to Reviews:
Fuzzy Elf: Well, in a few chapters back (I'm guessing here) Rogue found Remy staying in Scott's room because Jean was keeping wedding presents in his room. Oh, and Band Practice WAS fun. Thanks for asking!!
Thanks Yous for putting me as a Favorite Author^.^: Bri Yami-neko, The Little Reveiw Fairy, and Maritza Manga. Thousands of kisses and tipping hats to you all!!!
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG- PG-13 Depending if there be language
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men characters and Bayville places Evo focuses on in its show. Everything else belongs to me.
Chapter Fourteen: Turning Point
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
February 20, 2003
I'm hiding under my bed, hoping no one will be able to find me, mostly Jean. This is terrible, terrible, terrible. She calls everyone down, right, and I'm like, another wedding announcement? And it was: but she was like all upset and everything and I was wondering if it was because she couldn't find a wedding dress or gained a pound or whatever she has to cry about, but it wasn't what I expected.
"People," she said, hands clasped together on her jeans, "there's been a rearrangement of the...er...arrangement." I rolled my eyes and looked around the room, trying hard not to pay attention. Scott was sulking in the shadows - he was proved fine by Xavier and now will have to move back to his room. Jean, I heard was relieved, since Scott started to ask her to wash him.
"My sister will not be able to make it to my wedding," she said, her voice breaking. Ororo handed her a tissue, she blew, and continued. "So, now the space for Maid of Honor has been reopened." It was like somebody dropped out of the Olympics. I really wanted to fall asleep, really, I did. "And after much deciding, I've chosen ~Rogue~ to be my new maid of honor."
I choked on my spit; wished I had heard wrong. Glancing around I saw Logan put a hand over his eyes while shaking his head, Jubilee frowning twistedly, Xavier falling off his wheelchair again.
"What -why????" I asked, standing up. Jean, again, looked appalled.
"Well..." she said, recollecting herself.
"Why do you have to drag me into this stupid thing??" Then raced up the stairs.
So there you have it. I'm not coming out unless Jean changes her mind. She can do without a maid of honor, much less a sixth bridesmaid.
Later, 5:13 p.m.
Jean came in, got down on her knees, and -begged-.
I am not kidding.
She was all, Rogue, and I was hiding so I didn't answer and she came in anyway, scuffling her socked feet and continued to call my name.
"You can't hide forever," she said, and looked behind Kitty's bed. "Come out, Roguie. I won't hurt you." I guess she saw my hand or something, because she then said, "Fine. You want to play this game, then might as well play it well." Then she got on my bed and started jumping. Everytime the matress went down, I was pressed to the floor. I think I have matress burn on my shoulders from all of that.
Finally I screamed, "Get off! I'm coming out!!" So she did and I did and we looked at each other for a moment.
It was -very- disgruntling.
"Well?" I asked, sitting on my bed and rubbing my shoulders. She looked at me, and started playing with my covers.
"You still haven't made your bed," she commenced, and I slapped her hands away.
"What do you want with me?! I'm trying to stay sane eating your cake, sampling your music, wearing your damn dresses! Now you want me to be your maid of honor???" She looked at me, unruffled.
"Yes." Was all she said. I wanted to pounce, take her throat in my hands and choke her. Again, I reminded myself to stretch my patience. The time will come when I'll finally crack and kill her. But not now. "Look Rogue. I know you want to be free from this whole mess, but hear me out. You don't even know the reason why I picked you."
"Do I -want- to hear it?" I asked, giving her a hard look. She ignored it and pressed on.
"I mean, I rely on you for most of my wedding, and all those things you've mentioned before really made me think. And when my sister cancelled on me, I thought, Rogue deserves this place more than anyone. And I thought you'd be happy." Her eyes blurred, and she started to cry. Cry, cry, cry. Well, I've seen her technique work with Remy and Logan and Xavier, but it won't work with me.
I used up all my soft side for Peter.
Then she got down on her knees and started to beg - even threw her arms around my legs and cried and wailed. That's what got to me, seeing her being low for once and finally I cracked.
"Fine. I'll be your stupid maid of honor." She got up and smiled. Then she just stood there, smiling like a dratted idiot and I asked, "What are waiting for?"
"Can I hug you?" she asked. I looked at her, dismayed.
"I gue--" then she threw her arms around me and rushed out the door screaming that she was going to bring me to Danlie's first thing tomorrow.
Good GoD. There goes MY sanity.
February 21, 2003
My dress is peach. I mean, it's the color peach and its - well, Jean bought it. It's like, getting resown so I guess it's all right.
She took me to Danlie's just like she promised. Danlie, I'm sure, wasn't too happy with the gown change. But no matter. She took us to the back room, where she keeps expensive dresses of all sorts. Then she left Jean to prowl through. It took her a couple seconds to find the peach dress. She motioned me to go to the dressing rooms to try it on.
So I was, and didn't like it very much - too many peticoats. Then when I had finally zipped the back up, there came a knock on the door.
"Jean, I hate it," I shouted, through the door, glancing back up at the mirror. There was a shuffling of feet, and then a low voice.
"It isn't Jean. Can I come in?" Wondering, I got off the elevated block and opened the door slightly. A glint of red and my heart skipped a beat.
"Remy?" my voice croaked; I immediately turned red in spite. Then opening the door a bit wider, I felt my throat rasp in genuine surprise - it was Scott.
"Don't mock me," he said, still standing by the door. For a minute we were silent, letting the door do its job. Then I spoke up.
"Um, why are you here?" A corner of his mouth stood up; he looked conspicuously giddy.
"Jean said you would be here." I looked at him for a moment longer, annoyed.
"Good answer," I replied, and tried to shut the door, but he caught it with the palm of his hand.
"Wait, Rogue." I held the doorknob tightly. My pride hurt, I let him dare to keep me waiting. He did. "I was just thinking--"
"If this is about another effort to get Jean..."
"No, I -- I already lost that battle." He looked slightly depressed; his shoulders sagged. I sighed; tapped his upper arm.
"It ain't a war," I reasoned, and he glanced up at me.
"Uh, yeah." Then, a smile. It was small but it told me a lot. "I was just thinking about, well, you know, how you helped me -try- to get Jean..."
"Don't remind me," I said, and he stifled a small laugh.
"Okay, but I wasn't directing this conversation at that direction..." He paused and glanced up at me. "Look, I could help you with like maybe your geometry homework or something..."
"I don't have homework, Scott." I sighed, and rolled my eyes. "Look, I can't help you with Jean..."
"This isn't about Jean," he told me, angrily. I stood; startled, as he continued, spitting fire. "Why does everything I try to do have to conclude with having to do with Jean? I'm through with that wench..." He stopped, recalling his words. Obviously stunned, I nodded, understandingly.
"I-I'm sorry, Scott. I guess I'm just used with you trying to use me for -that wench-." I tried to close the door again, but he caught it once more. I looked at him, growing irritated.
"I know. I owe you. Big time." Again, that small smile.
"I'm listening," I said, standing by the doorframe, interested. He came closer, his face inches from mine.
"How about dinner? At Piccolo's?" I scanned my mind, remembering the last time we went there: disaster.
"Will Jean be there?" Behind his red glasses, I saw his eyes close.
"No, Rogue. We've already been through this..."
"I'm just clarifying things." He smiled, bringing a hand and playing with the ruffles on the dress I was wearing.
"So? Is that a yes?"
"I guess," I said, taking his hand away from my dress. He looked at me like an idiot and grinned.
"I'll meet you there at six," he confirmed and went on his way.
So. Dinner. With Scott. I'm just saying I cannot be anymore interested. And without Jean, this could get VERY interesting.
Later, 8:25 p.m.
Scott stood me up.
THAT DIRTBAG STOOD ME UP!!!!!
I was sitting there, in the reserved table, waiting and waiting for that stupid a-hole to show up, and I'm continuously looking up at the clock, then whenever somebody came, then back at the clock. He said six, I know he did, I kept thinking, crushing the breadsticks under my fingers. Twice, a busboy tried to fill my glass or make me order, but I said I'd wait some more.
Boy, was I stupid.
So, seven o' clock rolls along, and then guess who comes in. Logan and Ororo. I couldn't let them see me, a loner even outside of school (and the excuse of Scott stood me up is not really thrilling to speak of) so I darted out the back door. Little did I know that there was an alley that rounded the restaurant, but I wasn't really aware and ran into the other side of town. It was quite dark and I couldn't see much, but I could smell stray bits of alcohol and cigarette smoke from the hookers and the drug dealers (Bayville ain't the greatest back there). And so I'm walking and everything and when everything just cannot get any worse, it starts to snow.
And hard. So there I was, walking to GOd-knows-where with no sweater (for once, I thought Scott wasn't the a-hole he is and wore the red dress that Xavier gave me), under the falling snow. I was freezing, stood up, deserted. And walking through the streets of Bad Bayville. A couple of times, some drunkards staggered across the walk, shouting insolence and insults to hookers, and one actually went up to be and asked to come with him to some shack. I ran, daresay, away from him.
A little farther down the street, I saw a small light come from under a light post. And under that, was a stand with a person sitting behind it. Walking briskly past it, I heard a bellowing voice say, "Well, miss. You don look like anyone from dis part o' town. How 'bout coming' over an' playing cards a bit?" I looked over at him, wondering. His face was covered with his hood, and under his hand was a couple of cards.
"Play fo' what?" I asked, keeping my distance. I heard him snort a laugh and laid down three cards.
"Find the King between these two Queens." I came over as he mixed the cards. He stopped; I picked the middle one. He turned it over - it was a Queen.
"Oh, so sorry, miss," he said, and then turned over the right card next to the one I picked. It was the King.
"I don't win the King," I mumbled, looking at the person. There was a swift pause; the man removed his hood. I don't know what hit harder - me against Remy or the table with his cards, but I could've cared less. I threw my arms around him and knocked him hard to the ground, but he was laughing, his arms around me.
"Cherie, dis ain't too good f' business," he said, but didn't let go of me. Like I would've let go of him. We sat up, and he took out his trench coat and wrapped it around me. "What happened? It's not like you's be roaming dis side of Bayville, any," he whispered, stroking my hair away from my face. I looked at him, discerning. He was concerned - his eyes crimson against black, hard and crippling. I looked away, my face burning. I told him about how Scott wanted to repay me and that he never showed. Remy listened, putting away his stand and walking with me into the familiar side of Bayville.
"So that explains de dress?" I flushed, angered with myself.
"Don't remind me." He looked away for a moment, collecting.
"Could o' been a good date?" I glanced at him quickly.
"No," I said, clutching his arm tighter. "I wouldn't say it was gonna even be a date." He stifled a laugh and suddenly stopped walking.
"The Cafe's still open," he muttered. I looked over his shoulder and spotted the small Clairemont's shop, glowing brilliantly against the snow. "C'mon. Mon treat." So we walked in and ordered two mochas, taking a seat inside because they had cleared the wicker sets (Clairemont's appreciates their scenics but more, the furniture). Snow melting under us, we drank in silence, before Remy pulled out the shaker containing the powdered hazlenut.
"Go on - 'fore they find out," he cautioned, and I poured and hid between my hands. There was a pause, before Remy pulled out something in a small box. I drew in my breath before realizing what it was.
"It's beautfiul, ain't it?" he pushed it towards me and I could feel tears clouding my eyes. It really was something - dimonds encrusted in a silver band. He took it out and handed it to me. "Inside the band, there's an engravement." I looked at it, reading it aloud.
"Together Forever." My eyes shifted away, putting it back into the box. My fingers shook violently as I pushed it back him before he laid a hand on my own.
"Somethin' wrong, Cherie?" I pulled my hand away from him, getting up and knocking the table a bit. Coffee spilled unto the counter.
"I - I need air." I rushed to the door, tears falling down my cheeks. The cold air stung; I felt my throat throb. Sniffling, I stared out into the distance just as someone pushed off the wall, and I had to look twice before confirming it was John. He came over to me just as Remy joined my side. Instantly, their eyes met. John's flashed violently, like a sea before a storm.
"Cherie, you better come back inside," Remy whispered, but John took my arm and pulled me towards him.
"There's a little thing called abstinece, Rems. Shouldn't ya be with Jean?" Remy's eyes narrowed.
"What are you doin' here, Johnny? Dis ain't no place fo' you." John sneered; entwined his fingers with mine.
"If Rogue's here, then I'm right at home." Remy balled his fists angrily. I saw what was about to happen and ripped my hand from John's.
"You both are insane!" I screamed, and ran away. I mean, now that I think of it, I should've said something like, I hate you both! Or I hope you both die! But I really wasn't thinking straight right at that moment.
I ran all the way home. I guess I would've died from the cold without the trench coat still around me, but I pulled it off of me and threw it at Jean, who was passing by in the hallway.
If anyone asks, I'm under my sheets, dead, because that's what I'd rather be anyway.
Later Later, 2:23 a.m.
John called. It was like two in the morning and I was sleeping, and then all of a sudden, the phone rings and Kitty growls, "Get it, it's your line!" So I roll over and answer it.
"Hello?"
"G'day, Sheila."
"Tell me why I shouldn't hang up on you."
"For what reason? The Remy one or how early it is?"
"The early issue." Pause.
"So are ya gonna hang up?"
"Tell me what you want, dammit. I'm awake already anyway."
"Well...first off, are ya mad at me?"
"What makes you ask?"
"The fact ya ran away kinda gave it away."
"(sigh) I wasn't...I didn't run away for that."
"Was it what I said?"
"No, I know your point. It was well subsided, of course."
"Ah, big words used incorrectly. Dat sounds like ya, Rogue."
"I just can't understand, John. He asks me to a cup of coffee and then when everything's going great, he shows me Jean's ring. You should've seen it - But it also told me I am just a friend. Just a friend. So I was kinda glad you came in when you did."
"Well, Sheila, what did ya expect? He's gettin' married, fer Pete's Sake."
"I know. But how can he be so blind? I mean, she's not even his type..."
"Think of this, Sheila, would he ask her ta marry him if he didn't know dat?"
"Well, then, what do you think it is about?"
"Well...I think it's because he's in love. Wouldn't ya? Wait...don't answer dat."
"I wasn't gonna. So, what do you think I should do?"
"Ya could...move on," he said.
"Move on?"
"Or...tell him you love him."
"Are you INSANE?!"
"I'm implying the probable. Reconsider it? Fer Remy?" I looked away, listening to Kitty's breathing in the darkness.
"John," I said, playing with the cord. "I do love him. You know that."
"Of course." He sounded far-off; remote.
"And what will happen if I do? You know, tell him?"
"Well, he'll say dat's nice, shake your hand, and then marry Jean."
"Or?" I couldn't help asking for an alternative.
"Or he'll say thank ya, shake yer hand, and walk away without marrying Jean. Satisfy ya any?"
"You mean you weren't serious?"
"(Sigh) Reconsider okay, Sheila? For my sanity?"
"Hey, you're the one who called."
"Good night, Rogue." Then he hung up. Thinking about it, I doubt Remy would actually care. But John has a point.
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Responses to Reviews:
Fuzzy Elf: Well, in a few chapters back (I'm guessing here) Rogue found Remy staying in Scott's room because Jean was keeping wedding presents in his room. Oh, and Band Practice WAS fun. Thanks for asking!!
Thanks Yous for putting me as a Favorite Author^.^: Bri Yami-neko, The Little Reveiw Fairy, and Maritza Manga. Thousands of kisses and tipping hats to you all!!!