Chapter 3: Dismal Angel
Rogue awoke at exactly three minutes til Noon, that next morning. It was her birthday, and finally, she was sixteen years old.
Sixteen felt like such a jump to Rogue, sixteen was an independent age, she'd be able to own her own car, and drive whenever she wanted – as long as she passed her drivers test that was.
She pulled herself up, and yawned, she glanced to her right side to glance at the clock to see the time, surprised to see one of the pink roses from the mansion gardens had been cut, and placed nicely on the cabinet. Rogue picked it up slowly, looking it in astonishment, she wondered how it had gotten there, but remembering she wasn't in the mansion alone, she realised it could have only been one of the two men she was living with, Remy LeBeau, or Logan.
It seemed as more of a romantic gift than a friend gift, so she realised it was more likely from Remy. She grimaced, did that mean she would have to thank him?
After having a quick shower and washing her hair, Rogue pulled on a pair of faded black jeans and a dark green sweatshirt, without even putting on her make up yet, she headed downstairs to get something to eat.
She was surprised to see Remy at the stove, frying bacon. The smell of Bacon seemed to fill the whole room, and the senses of Rogue, and she wandered over to the table and sat down, glancing over at him, his back was facing her. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt, which seemed to compliment the broadness of his shoulders and the tan on the back of his neck.
"Bon matin," Remy declared, he didn't even glance over his shoulder to see her, she figured he must have heard her come in.
Rogue recognised this as a good morning, she'd taken French at Bayville, she knew little bits of French, but she didn't like to admit it, especially when she could tease Remy and demand he speak in English. Most of the time, she understood bits and pieces of what he was saying, she just didn't want him knowing that.
"Bacon?" He asked.
"On a sandwich," Rogue replied. "You left the rose?"
"Isn't it perfect? I took it from the Garden," he left the bacon cooking and produced two slices of bread from a little cabinet, and spread butter on them.
Rogue didn't really want to say thank you, but she did, "Thanks…" she trailed off, the words left a strange taste in her mouth.
Remy finished making her sandwich and he put the plate with it down in front of her on the table. "I have to go out today," he stated.
"Why?" Rogue asked.
"Why is not important," he stated, "But I'll be back for seven, so be ready," He stated, he too, now eating a bacon sandwich, he was leaning against the counter, holding a plate near his chest.
"I want to know where you're going," Rogue declared sullenly, she ate in tiny bites, she kept her eyes on him all the while.
"Chere…" he looked at her and smiled a little, "trust me, eh?"
Rogue rolled her eyes, "yeah, I trust a shark not to eat a bleeding swimmer."
The day seemed to pass quickly, and Rogue spent her time at home doing her laundry, and a few chores she'd been expected to do – there had been a list left by Professor Xavier of things that had needed doing. Cleaning the recreation room out had been one of them, and scrubbing the kitchen floor from top to bottom with a handheld scrubbing brush was another.
When she'd finished those chores, it had been four thirty, and she decided to spend the rest of her time in her room. She was laying on her bed, reading an Anne Rice novel, and had been so for an hour and a half, when she heard a knock on her door.
"What?" Rogue asked, she put the novel down, and glanced to wards the bedroom door.
"It's six," Logan stated through the door.
"So?" Rogue called out quite coldly.
"Better be getting ready to go out," Logan said, "I know it takes you ages to get ready – and you're goin', Like it or not."
Rogue got up, and walked over to the door and opened it, "why are you so intent on me going?" She looked at him, he was standing with his arms folded, he looked tired, and as if he needed a shave.
"Because everyone else is sick of seeing you and him fighting non-stop – it makes them uncomfortable, and it'd be nice if you two could learn to be civil around each other," he added. "Now get ready."
"But Logan…" Rogue began, her voice becoming whiny.
"But nothing, get ready," He stated, and shut the door to her room with her inside it.
Rogue sighed, didn't seem there was any way to get out of the situation, she'd already said she would to Remy – and god knows why.
Rogue sighed, and begun to get ready. She wore a black leather skirt over some very thick black tights. On top she wore a very deep dark red velvet top, which laced up at the front, the sleeves flared out and hung very low in a point.
"Why am I even making an effort?" She asked of herself angrily as she applied her dark makeup, adding a very dark shade of red lipstick to her pouting lips as opposed to the darker purple colours she generally wore. She examined herself in the mirror, her dark green eyes ringed with thick black eyeliner, her perfect skin had an almost greyish cast to it. She pulled on some knee high, platform heeled boots, and she glanced at the clock. By the time she had gotten ready, it was precisely 7pm.
Leaving the room, sighing to herself and wondering why she'd let herself get sucked into this, she headed downstairs, "Cajun!" she yelled, looking around, seeing no sign of him downstairs. She searched both east and west wings of the mansion, finding no sign of Remy LeBeau at all. She checked upstairs, his room was empty, bed unmade, jeans lying on the floor. Rogue took a glance around the room, it'd been a while since she'd been in there. She had an urge to rake through his stuff, but left it, knowing he might be sneaking around somewhere.
Muttering to herself bitterly, she headed back downstairs, and outside, and she sat on the steps outside the front doors, she peeled one of her black cotton gloves a little, and checked the time on her watch, it was seven thirty, and still no sign of Remy LeBeau.
She sat watching the driveway for a while, wondering where he was, anger welling up inside of her like a ticking bomb, ready to explode. Finally, just when was just about to give up waiting at seven-forty-five, Remy LeBeau came speeding down the Driveway on his impressive Harley Davidson, he wasn't even wearing a helmet. He parked the bike near the steps of the Mansion, and got off, sauntered over, wearing a dark blue button down shirt, and plain black pants.
"You ready to go?" he asked as casually as he could, as if he hadn't even realised or chose to acknowledge that he was indeed, late.
Rogue stood up, looking at him, her eyes on fire, she punched him in the face, hard, hoping to god she had broke his jaw. "I waited for forty-five minutes for you!" she yelled.
Remy gave a groan of pain, and put his hand to his face, moving his jaw from side to side, "that hurt…" his voice came a little muffled.
"You deserved it."
"Rogue, at least I'm here now, we can leave straight away…"
"I don't want to go out at all, now," Rogue turned to go inside the mansion.
"So we're not going out, then?" Remy asked.
"You think you're smart, LeBeau, you work it out," Rogue stepped inside the Mansion.
Remy followed her, "Give me another chance…"
"No."
"Just 'cause you're mad at me doesn't mean you don't deserve to go out and have fun on your birthday, Chere," Remy pointed out.
Rogue spun around in the hall, her voice echoed loudly as she yelled, "have fun?!" She demanded angrily, "Let me just point out that if I'm with you it wouldn't be 'FUN' I'd be having! I feel miserable whenever you're around me, Remy LeBeau! You make me angry, and hostile, and bitter! And I can never forget that the reason I have a whole person in my head is because of you!" tears began to brim her eyes. "And to make matters worse, I have to LIVE with you!"
Remy stopped in his tracks, he looked at her, he could see emotions building up on her face, her eyes tearing up.
"I spend every minute of every waking hour wondering if there's gonna be a knife in my back the minute I let down my guard," Rogue went on, "every minute of every day wondering if you're really still working for Magneto – and that Professor Xavier made some kind of mistake in trusting you!" she wiped her tears with her gloved fingers, "for the first time in my life, my life was starting to get good!" she shrieked at him, her voice becoming higher and higher, cracking with emotion, "I was happy – and then you came…and destroyed all the happiness I felt…I have to live with a boy who every day, reminds me of a girl lying in a hospital ward practically brain dead – reminding me that I'm no less than a murderer…"
Remy looked at her, "I never meant—"
"And then my birthday comes up, and for the first time since I've been here, I told a friend all about it – I trusted Kitty with something that was important to me – and she had to blab it out…and NOW!" Rogue took in a breath, "Now I'm standing here, spending my birthday screaming at the one person I don't ever want to see again!"
Then there was a silence, but it spoke volumes, and they kept their eyes on each other, Rogue's face was streaked with tears and stained with now diluted eyeliner, she didn't look ridiculous though, she looked tragic, standing there like some dismal angel.
Remy looked down to the floor, his chest fell softly with his breath, "I'll leave…" he uttered, and slowly left walking upstairs.
Behind him, Rogue cried out, "Yeah, well don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."
She waited a while, quiet, welling up with so much emotion. She sat on the stairway and burst into tears, not being able to hold in the stress, and emotion that had welled up within her for so long.
