Chapter 4: Venting Out Frustration
Breakfast that next morning was…noisy, as about as noisy a kitchen full of teenagers between the ages of eighteen to thirteen could get. Remy had never really been able to get along with most of the younger kids in the Mansion, despite their awe of him, and the adoring glances the younger girls would throw at him.
With it being Valentines day, there was a discussion of exactly that around the breakfast table, most of the boys thinking it was just another day, girls – except from Tabitha that was – disagreeing. Kitty whining because she hadn't received even one card, and Jean gushing because she had received a card.
Remy raised his eyes when Rogue entered the kitchen, she sat herself down, not exactly opposite him, two seats away from opposite him, between Amara, and Ray. Rogue's hair was pulled into a very messy ponytail, her makeup, as usual, expertly done, her skin white as porcelain.
Rogue pretended not to see him, and she instead poured herself a glass of orange juice slowly, her expression sour.
"Any valentines, Rogue?" Kitty asked, she being directly opposite Rogue.
"None," Rogue said, she threw Remy a strange almost odious glance, and then looked back to Kitty, "but why should that change, I haven't had one in the sixteen years I've been alive, why should it suddenly change," she gave a feigned blasé shrug and sipped her orange juice, whilst reaching for a piece of toast.
Remy had the distinct impression that Rogue was angry with him, he let matters be and didn't say anything. He wouldn't blame her for being angry after he'd lost his temper the night before. He couldn't explain it, really, it had happened so fast. She'd brought up about Bella Donna – and it had hit a nerve, a raw one.
Kitty glanced from Rogue to Remy, her eyes reminding Remy of a spectator from a game of tennis, "so…you guys have anything planned?"
Remy was about to speak, Rogue interrupted, "the professor doesn't want us dating," she said, she hadn't meant to say it as loud, but had, everyone at the table went quiet and looked between Rogue and Remy. In fact, most of them looked at Rogue as if to question if she should be dating. Rogue felt strangely overwhelmed, the looks on their faces spoke of the surprise that she and Remy could be a couple.
Remy looked at Rogue, "I believe that was the wrong answer," he said quietly.
"Then what IS the right answer?" Rogue asked coldly.
Remy put his hand over his eyes, shaking his head, "do NOT do this, not here, not now," he warned, the tension mounting in every part of him, he had barely slept, his back hurt and his mind was in a very hypersensitive way. He wasn't sure how he would react.
"I can't believe I was ready to die because of you," Rogue hissed across the table.
"Why are you fucking doing this?!" he demanded of her trying to keep his voice to a minimum, but it grew louder with every word.
"What did I do!?!" she demanded.
"I'll tell you what you did," Remy slammed his hand on the table, it startled everyone around them, who were now watching with much shock and interest at their brawl, "you picked a fight with me, and now you're acting like I did something wrong!" he got up, he could feel the eyes of everyone burning on him.
Rogue looked up at him, she'd never seen him so angry with her, it was like a whole different person standing up with that frosty glare, "you DID start this fight!" Rogue looked at him, gaping, Remy could see she really believed that.
"Me?! How the fuck did I start this?!" he yelled, "You're the one who keeps asking stupid questions about my past – why can't you just fucking accept me for what I am and stop trying to force me to relive the past again and again! I've had it!" he threw his hands up dramatically, clenching his fists in frustration, "I can't move on with you if you're going to keep throwing my past in my face like you're doin'! All I want to do is forget and get on with life!" he leaned down on the table, yelling directly at her, "and you won't let me!!"
Rogue's eyes were glistening with tears, this time, Remy couldn't even feel his heart ache seeing those tears form.
"Not ONCE have I asked you about your past again, not once!" he slammed his fist on the table, "You told me there wasn't much to tell and that was the end of it – and I WILLINGLY let it slide! But with you, you wanna know every little fucking detail, and then use it against me!" he headed towards the door, "every time you do it, I'm the one who ends up apologising!" he glanced over his shoulder at her, "and I'm not going to do it no more."
He was gone in a moment, and Rogue broke into fresh tears.
Remy headed outside to the back of the mansion, his anger still intense and overwhelming him, he kicked the nearby empty trashcan outside stubbornly, knocking it over on its side, listening to the steel clatter against the concrete on which it had stood, he watched the lid roll a few feet away.
He wanted to scream and yell and hit things, but regretted it. He rarely let himself get angry, he was usually quick without anger, usually able to resolve things without showing too much emotion. Ever since the day he'd realised he'd fallen in love with Rogue, the way he would handle himself in every situation had begun to change. If this had been years ago, with a girl picking fights with him, he'd have easily laughed it off, and found some way of turning it around so that things were fine, now, he just felt as if he lacked the energy.
He took his tobacco case out of his jeans pocket, and pulled out a cigarette he'd rolled earlier, he put it to his lips, and lit a match, cupping his hand over it to protect it from the harsh February wind. Moments later his lungs were full of smoke, and he felt his temper beginning to evaporate as though the smoke was dissolving it away.
"I thought things were okay between you two."
Remy didn't turn when he heard the voice of Kitty Pryde interrupting his peaceful moment with his only friend – his cigarette. "I don't want to talk right now," he said quietly.
"Yes you do," Kitty picked up the trashcan and stood it up. She retrieved the lid and placed it back on top neatly, "you don't usually lose your temper this way…" she said, "In fact, you usually deal with things a lot better, what's eating at you?" She asked.
Remy leaned back against the wall, exhaling a cloud of smoke that vanished in the air almost immediately with the wind. His hair blew in front of his face, and he tucked it behind his ear. "She is," he muttered. "Can't make her happy."
Kitty hugged herself against the cold wind, "she's been
through a lot lately, Remy," Kitty reminded, "you know that."
"So have I!" he yelled.
Kitty put her hands up, "whoah, quiet down there, I'm not the enemy here," she reminded, she patted his shoulder.
Remy sat on the back steps, taking a long drag of the cigarette, he remained silent for a moment, "I can't fight with her anymore, its draining me."
"Yeah, used to get to me too sometimes," Kitty shrugged, "she likes to pick fights, that's her thing," Kitty sat beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest, "she used to fight with me all the time about the stupidest stuff," Kitty explained, "We still do, sometimes…" Kitty shrugged, "she's got a lot of frustration, you know," Kitty added, "she just needs to let it out until there's none left. Think about it, Remy," Kitty turned to him, "she can't touch you…she can't kiss you, and certainly can't be with you under the sheets," Kitty pointed out, "she can't use physical contact, so she's venting out that frustration because it's – seriously – the only way she can get out some emotion towards you. When the fights stop, that's when you should probably worry," Kitty shrugged.
Remy stared into space, hearing her words, he realised Kitty was probably right, he'd come to those assumptions himself many times, it was definitely plausible that Rogue did pick fights because it was the only way she knew how to emote to anyone. He gave a sigh, "You're probably right," he ran his hand through his windswept hair.
Kitty got up, slapped his shoulder in a comforting way, then left, leaving Remy to his thoughts.
Rogue was in the first floor bathroom, washing her smudged and tear-stained makeup from her face, she heard a knock at the door, "Not now," she sighed, splashing her face with cold water.
But whoever was on the other side of the door didn't pay attention, for the door opened, Kitty stood in the threshold, "you okay?"
"Do I look okay?" Rogue felt like laughing at the absurdity of Kitty's question, but instead, splashed her face again, and rubbed her eyes a little.
"Not really, but its always polite to ask," Kitty sat up on the counter to which the sink was embedded, "Remy looked really angry," she said after a time.
Rogue didn't even want to talk about it, but didn't have much will to ask Kitty to stop.
"I've only ever seen him that angry once before," Kitty admitted, she picked up a nail file that had been sitting in a plastic cup on the counter top, and she began shaping her nails. "On Sunday night, when you tried to kill yourself," Kitty said rather bluntly, "me and him had a fight, a massive, huge fight," Kitty said.
Rogue pursed her lips together, the need to begin crying all over again starting to surface.
"We were just sitting in the kitchen, just like now, alone, over cups of coffee, and all it took was for me to say a few words, and we were off in this frenzied argument until we were screaming at each other, and crying, and we fought as hard as we would – I guess, it was our way of dealing with the situation," Kitty admitted, she looked away distantly for a moment.
Rogue studied Kitty's face, waiting for kitty to continue speaking – she knew she would.
"There was so many…raw…feelings that night," Kitty's voice stammered, "And everything built up, and needed to come out…" she shrugged, "do you ever feel that way?"
Rogue looked to the mirror, staring at her own face, her puffy eyes and her slightly pink nose. "All the time," she sighed.
Kitty nodded, Rogue noted it was as if she was acknowledging something to herself, "is that why you fight with Remy so much?"
Rogue gave a very weak shrug, and reached for a towel to dry her face.
Kitty slipped off the counter, "Rogue, you need to find new ways of connecting with him, because if you continue fighting with him the way you do, you're eventually going to lose him…"
Rogue gave a short abrupt nod, and Kitty left the bathroom.
After a few moments, Rogue headed out into the foyer, just in time to hear the buzzer for the gates securing the mansion's perimeter fence. She headed over to the wall, where the intercom panel was embedded into the wall, and she switched the monitor on, a white van was parked outside, a guy leaning out of the window to speak into the intercom on the outside wall near the gates.
"Delivery," he said clearly.
Rogue pushed the button to open the gates, and headed outside, the white van drew up outside, the driver got out, opened the back doors, and pulled out a very large bouquet of blood red roses, there must have been at least three dozen of them.
"Delivery for…" the guy trailed off, "Marie D'Ancanto," he said.
Rogue felt a sudden rush overwhelm her, her heart felt as if it'd been shocked with an electric volt, "that's me…"
The guy smiled, "sign here please," he held out a clipboard and pen.
Rogue quickly signed her name, it had been so long since she'd used her proper signature she was unsure if she'd done it correctly. She took the roses, the delivery man went on his way. She looked at the roses. They were certainly beautiful, every single rose perfect, the thorns had been removed. The roses were tied together with a dark green satin ribbon, a small card hanging from the ribbon itself.
She pulled the card free, heading inside, she placed the roses on a nearby table, and unfolded the card, reading the words inside.
When dusk will fold its arms around
This world I give to you,
And in the evening's sweet embrace
I'll whisper of we two.
Rogue had to pull herself together before the allowance of tears of joy would run, she sniffed, noting the card was in Remy's handwriting, she realised this must have been planned days in advance. She suddenly felt so foolish as to have picked fights with him earlier. With a sigh of defeat, she headed off to find him, knowing it was her turn to apologise.
Remy was busying himself in the garage when Rogue finally found him over an hour later, the garage doors closed, and a small convector heater was blazing away on a table to in the corner, while Remy stood washing the X-Van, his T-Shirt splattered with water and foam.
Rogue stood at the small door that lead to the inside of the mansion, she watched him for a time, he seemed totally unaware of her presence, and continued to sweep the foamy sponge across the windshield of the van.
"Thank you for the roses," Rogue said, after a time.
Remy appeared to show no emotion or response to what she'd said, instead, he continued to wash the van with his foamy sponge.
"Are you alright?" Rogue queried quietly.
"What do you think," He remarked bitterly, he glanced over his shoulder at her.
"I think you're mad at me, and I guess you have right to be," Rogue looked away, "I loved the poem."
"Good."
Rogue found it hard to find anything to say, she walked up to him slowly, placing her hand on his back, his shirt was soaked from washing the van, not to mention perspiration from his hard work.
"Don't," He moved away, "Just don't try acting like nothings changed, okay?" He asked, he threw the sponge into the bucket.
Rogue chewed her lip, "nothing has…we're fighting like we always do."
"This time it isn't my fault," Remy stated, he grabbed the sponge and began scrubbing again.
Rogue stood at his back, "I know…and I'm sorry…" she trailed off.
He snorted, "Are you just saying that to make me feel better – or yourself."
Rogue was taken aback by his question, she ignored it completely. "Kitty…spoke to me…she made me see that maybe…just maybe…you were right all along."
Remy turned and looked at her curiously, "In what way?"
"That I fight with you because I can't touch you…because there's no other way I can have a relationship with you than to fight?" Rogue mentioned quietly.
Remy looked at her, "there are better ways of emoting to me than picking goddamn fights all the time," he started washing the van again.
"How?"
Remy only smirked, despite himself, the anger he'd felt beginning to ebb away, he focused on the van, trying to make himself seem aloof and casual.
Rogue looked at him, "do you forgive me?" she asked in a timid tone.
Remy turned, and looked at her, "what do you think," he smirked a little and tossed the sponge at her, "here, give me a hand."
Rogue caught the sponge, and walked over, she began wiping the passenger side window of the van, whilst Remy went to find another sponge on a shelf nearby. She watched him, chewing her lip, wondering if the fight was really over – or if it had only just begun.