Title - Reversed
Chapter Five – Can't Be Helped
Sick to her stomach, Rogue left the little music shop, the c.d. still going in the back corner. Outside it was ridiculously hot, her skin already moistening with the beginnings of sweat and making her detest her ensemble just a teensy bit more. There was someone next to her moped, his back to her, running a hand along the black cushion.
"What d'ya think yer doin'?" she asked tersely.
The man turned around, smiling gently. He cocked his head slightly to the side, red and black eyes staring at her warmly. Rogue instantly felt at peace, as if her life was without worries and problems, without gnawing guilt. It felt as if her life was perfect and had always been so. Her eyelids drooped as if melting in the warmth of his eyes. She even attempted a smile of her own, but the calm serenity that encompassed her made it seem like too much of an effort.
"Nice bike," the man said, a chuckle reverberating in his throat.
He blinked.
And then all of her troubles, frustrations and self-pity hit her like a house thrown out of a hurricane. Her eyes flew open in recognition and she pointed an angry, accusing finger at him.
"Ya tried ta blow off mah hand!"
"Tried to blow off your hand?" he repeated with an innocent smile. "Nah, couldn't have. You still got it."
Rogue sputtered, but rage took control of her tongue and, before she knew what she was saying, she was yelling nastily. "Get tha hell away from mah, ya creep!"
"Now, chere, Remy be sorry. Didn't mean to upset you."
His eyes were on her again. Lingering, leering, alluring. She almost fell again into his tempting charm, but her fury instead reigned. Rogue marched toward him and shoved against his chest, forcing him to take a couple steps back to retain his balance. The gentle smile that had warmed his features was now a tight frown. She tensed, expecting an attack, but he made no such move.
"What was dat for? Remy was bein' nice."
"Remy. That yer name?" she asked, malice coating her question.
"Why, yes," he said and reached for her hand, intending to kiss it.
She pulled away from him, slid onto her aquamarine moped and grabbed her helmet, purposely turned away from him. Remy's hand was still holding only air.
"Well get lost, Remy," she sneered. "Unless ya want me ta suck ya dry."
His eyebrows shot up.
"Remy had no idea you were dat kind of girl…"
Rogue's head snapped around, her teeth clenched, eyes glinted with rage. A faint pink coloring rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable under the heavy helmet.
"Yer a pervert!" she shouted, loud enough to draw attention from a couple of passerby.
"You be da one dat said it," he said.
She kicked up the stand on her moped and revved the small engine, but then Remy was in front of her vehicle, his hands over hers on top of the handlebars. The thought of running him over crossed her mind - and it held great appeal.
"Move it, swamp rat!"
"Now wait a second, chere. Remy want to know your name. It only be fair," he said.
His bewitching eyes were so close that she could almost feel the warmth that radiated from them; she looked past him, avoiding the contact that she knew would make her fall into the depths of false tranquillity again.
"Mah name is none of yer business!" she hissed.
The bike lurched forward, forcing Remy back a step, but he pushed it back and kept it in place. He bent down to Rogue's eye level.
"C'mon, tell me your name and I'll let de bike go."
She jerked the handles away from him and the small moped gave another jerk, slipping out of Remy's hands. The exhaust coughed out a puff of dark smoke in complaint, covering his boots and the bottom of his brown duster in black ash.
"Mah name's Rogue, ya jerk!"
He waved his hand casually in front of his face, breaking the smoke into thin wisps.
Ah, he thought with a mental smirk, right girl.
Kitty and Jean circled the pyramid of packages and boxes in the striped tent, skimming each row for the right contents. Occasionally Jean would hold up one of the larger ones, but Kitty always shook her head. Nothing was big enough.
"Excuse me, ladies, do you need any help?" a man asked with a polite smile.
"Yeah," said Kitty. "Do you have any really big fireworks?"
"Sure I do. How big?" he inquired.
"Umm, like, what's the biggest thing you've got?"
"I've got some mortars at the top, probably the biggest ones you can buy without signing a waver," he said.
"Perfect!" Kitty exclaimed.
Even though she had no idea as to what a morter was, if you came close to having to sign a waver for it then it was something impressive. She tilted her head back, looking up to the top where several boxes were already missing. She felt incredibly short.
"Umm, can you get one down for me?" she asked cordially.
"It's buy one get one free, so would you like me to get two?"
"Even better!" she exclaimed, but the bubbly excitement sounded obviously feigned even to her ears.
The man dragged a small stepladder closer to the broken pyramid, scooting it as close as he could get it to the bottom fireworks. He grabbed two plain brown boxes from the topmost edges and handed them down to Kitty. She gawked at the size, her arms barely fitting around the boxes. Her entire hand was probably turning white and they were also surprisingly heavy. Jean smiled sympathetically and took one from her.
"That'll be twenty dollars, miss."
"Twenty dollars? Yeesh, who knew fireworks were so expensive!" she said, her mouth pulled wide to make an incredulous face.
"Better than forty," said the man.
"Yeah," she nodded and handed him a couple tens. "Thanks a bunch!"
"My pleasure, m'am."
They headed out of the open flaps and Kitty bumped the box against the side of the car, bending the cardboard. She had forgotten that she was incapable of phasing it through.
"Oops," she mumbled and heaved it over the door into the back seat.
Jean conveniently levitated the box into the car, but she kept her hands around it, hands almost touching, in case anyone might look over.
That is totally not fair, Kitty thought as she opened the door on the passenger side and slipped in; Jean had offered to drive on the way back. She turned her head away from the redhead and crossed her arms, watching yet not seeing the scenery as it whipped by. There were a few times when she could feel the other girl staring at her, wanting to say something, but Kitty willed the silence to remain, and remain it did.
When they arrived back at the institute Kitty returned from the dark bowels of her mind, everything around her coming into focus as if she had never realized it was there. Jean levitated the first box into Kitty's arms, who cradled it with one arm against her chest and made a silent motion with her other hand demanding the other one.
"Don't worry, I'll get it," said Jean, moving around the car.
Again, she made the gesture with her hand, this time accompanied with a sound similar to a grunt.
Jean's forehead scrunched in confusion. "Are you sure you don't want help?"
Just give me the box! her mind screamed. Kitty couldn't be sure if her telepathy picked up the mental shout, but nevertheless Jean handed her the other box, albeit reluctantly. Jean refused to let go until she was sure the boxes were secure, but Kitty just wanted to get away. She trotted up the stairs – and might have run into the doors if they hadn't been telekinetically opened for her. She glared, though she didn't turn around to shoot it, as she stalked through, up the stairs, constantly halting to get a better grip or a more comfortable hold. By the time she made it to the second level her knuckles were white and her fingers were strained.
She wanted to walk slow, dreading an undesirable confrontation with Rogue, but her palms were sweaty and the boxes were slowly slipping out of her tired hands. The door to her room was closed, but she kept walking.
WHAM!
Right into the door.
Kitty dropped the fireworks and covered her nose, automatic tears building in her eyes. She opened the door – noticing but not caring the slightest that Rogue was absent – and flung herself into the bed. The tears in her eyes overflowed and spilled down her cheeks, some of them falling into the corners of her mouth for her to lick away.
For some time her mind remained blank and unthinking, her belt pressed harshly into her hipbone, as she cried. Eventually her weeping calmed until finally it ceased altogether… and that was when the dwellings returned. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, squeezing it tightly, and started to sob all over again. She thought about what Rogue had done to her, wondering why her powers had affected hers and no one else's. She thought about how much she would like to take off her "jewelry", put a hand through Rogue and let them both fall through to the core of the Earth…
There was a knock at the door.
"Knock, knock. Kitty?"
It was Kurt. She quickly wiped her face on the pillow, smearing her tears across her face, hoping her eyes weren't too obviously red.
"You left zese in za hallvay," he said.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, a package under each arm. Oops.
"Vhere vould you like me to put zem?"
"I don't care," she mumbled.
"Oh. Vell, I'll just set zem here in za corner," he said, setting the boxes down gently beside the dresser. "So, vat did you get me?"
Kitty rolled over. His tail was wagging and he wore a playful smile, but she only stared at him.
"Okay, fine zen. Vat's in za boxes?"
"Nothing for you," she said a bit harshly and regretted it when Kurt's smile fell.
"Are you alright?" he asked, bobbing closer to the bed.
One of his three-fingered hands was reaching for her, hovering in the air as if afraid to touch her. That just made her feel worse.
She rolled over, away from him, as her eyes began to brim with tears again.
"I'm fine."
"Kitty -"
"Go away," she muttered, clutching her pillow fiercely.
"Vell, I'm here if you need me, okay?"
His hand finally came to rest on her back in a friendly gesture, rubbing it in a soothing manner. Though she ached for a comforting, reassuring touch, she jerked away from Kurt's hand with an unfriendly whine. She heard him sigh and a second later the door clicked shut. It wasn't like her to be so snappish, but she was completely miserable.
All because of Rogue.
Kitty slowly sat up, absent-mindedly chewing on the end of her pillow. She stared at the presents that she had gotten for John so long that her eyes lost focus and her mind lost concentration. Although his views were a little skewed, he had made her feel better - and at this particular juncture in her life, she yearned to feel better. So she rolled off the bed, opened the door and hollered:
"KUUURT! Do we have any wrapping paper?"
Author's Note – Did I say this would be updated in two weeks? I really meant two months. -_- Jeez. Hopefully with a four day weekend coming up, the next chapter will be out sooner. :P
Thank You's To – Ice Princess, for being such a willing beta reader. *huggles* And to my wonderful reviewers, who haven't stopped reading even though updates come slow and few: Rogue77 (Lookit, lookit! An update!), FaDiNgSiLvErStAr, kulerka (I'm always alive, darlin', its just a question of whether or not I'm working on this story or not…), alesca munroe, and inuyasha0001.