Chapter 5: Someone Like You
Rogue approached the table slowly, her hands together, near her stomach, her heart thudding like a bass drum. Remy sat at a side ways angle, still swirling his wine. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
Remy didn't even look up, he took a sip of the wine, "for?"
"For…acting like that in front of that woman," Rogue looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek.
"Got you mad, did it?" Remy's tone sounded so strange, so empty.
Rogue stood a few moments more, wondering how to word how she felt, but then, taking Hank's advice, she drew in a breath, "Dance?" she asked, reaching out her hand.
"I thought you didn't ever want me near you again," Remy didn't glance up at her.
"I never said that," Rogue sighed to herself, she rubbed her forehead a little, "I was mad…look, can we…can we please, just dance, and we'll talk about it…"
"I don't feel like dancing…" Remy put his glass down, "I'm thinkin' of takin' off for home," he said.
Rogue looked at him, "want me to come with you?"
"I don't mean home as in the Mansion, I mean home as in New Orleans. I'd be as well marryin' Bella Donna, wouldn't I?" he sounded as if he were giving up, it seemed so silly to Rogue he'd spend all this time avoiding marrying the woman and then talk about wanting to go marry her as if it was his only choice.
"Do you want to be?" Rogue asked with a sigh, she felt now as if she'd argued about this with him a million times and it was tiring her out.
"No," He said, "I'd rather be with you," he said sternly.
Rogue sighed and sat in the chair next to him, "you were the one who made the ultimatum," She reminded, "Now or never, you said," she looked at him.
"And you wanted me to wait two years," he raised his eyes to her, they looked lifeless, he looked strange, as if there was nothing behind those eyes.
Rogue shrugged, "I guess we both made wrong decisions," she sighed.
Remy turned as the band's song changed from a Tony Bennett song to a rendition of a familiar one by Van Morisson – 'Someone Like You'. He faintly smirked at the irony, "Y'know, this song…probably one of the most romantic songs in the world," he commented, "there've been times when I heard this and always thought it could have been written about you," he shrugged, "Cause all the girls I've been with…none of them compare, passing thrills, nothing more, but at the end of the day, I can flirt with any girl I want and I could have them all, but the only one I want…is someone like you," he clenched his teeth, he couldn't believe he'd admitted that after all the things that had happened this past few days.
Rogue looked at him, she reached out with one of her gloved hands, and brushed the hair away from his face, he turned and looked at her, his cheek against her hand now. He pushed her hand away slowly. "You're doing it again," he sighed, and stood up.
Rogue also stood, "what do you mean?"
"You lead me on…then just when I think I'm getting somewhere with you, you pull away…its like a hot and cold faucet bein' with you, I don't know when I'm going to be showered with warmth or coldness," he sighed.
"Do you blame me?"
"Sometimes, no," He said, "I know I've done some things that deserve more grief than you've given me," he walked a little around the table. "But sometimes…I do blame you," he looked at her. "You have it set in your head…that I have the power to control everything I do – or everything that happens to me, that I should automatically have the common sense to always make the right decision…jesus, Marie, sometimes the right decision isn't always apparent…and I make mistakes, and I'll admit it, I'm not perfect – but you seem to think you are!" his voice raised a little.
"What do you mean?" She demanded with a growl.
"I mean that I'll admit to my mistakes, I'll admit when I'm to blame, but you never take any responsibilities in your own actions!!" he hissed, "You make as many mistakes as I do in life – and life treats you the same way, you have no control over everything you do – you have no control over what decisions are the right ones, you just do what you do and get on with it – but never ONCE do you admit that you're to blame for your decisions – its ALWAYS me!"
Rogue felt the anger rush through her, how could he blame her for this? She was about to speak, but remembered what Hank had said, focus on the music, focus on the rhythm. "Shut up and just dance with me," She grabbed a hold of his hand and took him to the dance floor.
Remy followed, not sure why really, he was being truthful, he didn't really feel like dancing at all. Rogue pulled his arms around her waist and put her arms around his neck lightly, and swayed.
Remy avoided her gaze, "What we gonna do?" he finally asked after a moment.
"About?"
"About you and me…something is seriously wrong with us," he said, "We can't get along, we wanna be together yet at the same time, don't wanna be, we get so angry at each other, and then get so sad, and end up repeatin' the cycle," he sighed, "seems like everything comes full circle…" he looked back at her finally, there were tears in her eyes.
She looked away, her eyes misty, she quickly dabbed at her tears with her fingers, and blinked, trying to pull herself back together.
He wanted to hold her right then, she looked so vulnerable, yet he didn't pull her closer to him. He was caught staring at her, she seemed like a totally different person to the one she had when he'd first met her. She'd become terribly bitter, and the more bitter she became the more untouchable and more desirable she seemed, and despite his anger with her, his disappointment with her, and his hurt, he still wanted her, perhaps more than ever.
"You're right…" she finally said.
"Hmm?" he asked, he'd been lost staring at those dark green eyes of hers, lost in his thoughts, and in her beauty.
Rogue drew her breath, "it was my fault…" she looked at him, "It was my fault we fought about the drugs I got from Pinocchio…its my fault that I absorbed the powers of Miss Marvel…not yours…" she looked at him, "I…I've not been facing the responsibilities of my own decisions," she blinked, tears spilled again. "I make mistakes too…"
Remy gave a vague nod, he didn't want to agree with her too much, lest she grow angrier with him than she had been.
"And…its my fault…that we broke up," Rogue looked at him, "You were right about that," she nodded, "But…it's your fault…that we can't get back together now…" she sighed.
Remy gave a snort, "you break rules for everything else," she said, "why not this?"
"I break Xavier's rules," Rogue stated, "I don't break yours," she looked at him, "the only one who can break that one is you," she shrugged. the song ended, and she stopped swaying. She realised how incredibly late it was getting, and the others were by the table and they looked as if they were ready to go. It seemed that now was not the time for this conversation anymore – perhaps there would never be a perfect time.
Remy grabbed his jacket, and slung it over his shoulder, and they left the restaurant, outside, the snow was coming down heavier, and the wind was whipping crazily around them.
"Wow, it's gettin' colder out," Rogue shivered, she wished she'd brought a jacket.
Almost, as if Remy had read her mind, she felt him put his black jacket around her shoulders, she smelt his cologne upon its collar and breathed in, it filled her, and she almost felt as if she were high on a drug.
They climbed into the limo, Professor Xavier's wheelchair being folded and placed in the trunk. Once they were all inside, Professor Xavier spoke, in a slightly drunken lilt, "did you all have fun?"
He sounded as if he were a parent having taken kids to the zoo, Rogue had to smirk a little, "yeah," she said distantly, she glanced out of the window, "Wow, look at all that snow…" she sighed, "I've never seen so much snow."
The snow was so thick outside that even the sky itself seemed white, the snow on the streets glittered in the orange street lights.
Remy, who was wedged in the middle between Rogue and Hank, leaned over her slightly to look outside, his chest pressed against her back, she closed her eyes, through his jacket she could still feel his heart beating. "White Christmas," he said.
"Christmas eve," Rogue remarked.
"No, seriously, its Christmas," Remy showed her his watch, it was one minute past midnight.
Rogue smirked a bit, and continued to look out of the window, the fact that Remy was speaking to her in this way made her feel somewhat forgiven – at least they were on talking terms again.
"You two look like you've made up," Hank remarked.
Remy glanced over to Hank, "it was just a stupid little fight over nothing," he stated calmly.
Rogue glanced to Remy and gave a nod, then looked at Hank, "nothin' serious," she shrugged, then looked back outside the window. "Nothin' serious at all…" she sighed, still feeling the ache of what he'd done, and she wasn't sure how things would go from then on, but she let it slide – for now. At the moment, in the limo, life was…blissfully normal.