Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 3
Chapter 1: The Morning After…
Rogue wiped the steam from the mirror, looking at herself, she looked hellish. Darkened under the eyes, her skin slightly paler than usual, and her expression as sickly as she felt. Hangovers, she decided were something she never wanted to deal with again. She pressed her thumping forehead against the cool damp glass of the mirror and closed her eyes.
"I'm never drinkin' again," she groaned to herself more than to Kitty Pryde who was in the bathroom sitting on the counter applying makeup carefully with a compact mirror.
"How many times have I heard you claim that, yet never actually seen you live up to that?" Kitty asked, she applied lipstick, and kissed a piece of tissue to remove the excess.
Rogue swallowed the taste of vomit, she'd been throwing up since five am, it was now seven am and she was hoping she was through with it, "this time I mean it, by New Year it's going to be a resolution," she leaned up and wiped her damp forehead, "what did you guys get up to after I left?"
"I tried to teach Logan how to do the Macarena, but it wasn't working," Kitty responded, "he said he didn't want all the guys he plays pool with to watch him dancing like a gay porn star with a gerbil up his butt."
Rogue gave a soft laugh, and fixed the collar of her lilac pinstriped fitted blouse, she smoothed it down a little, looking at herself in the now fogged and blurred mirror.
"So…you left last night with Remy," Kitty closed her compact with a loud snapping sound, and she put it away in her makeup bag, "did you guys talk?"
Rogue grabbed the bottle of mouthwash from the cabinet, yanked the cap off and took a quick swig, gurgled, then spat, "we argued a bit – again," she admitted. "Turns out the asshole cheated at pool."
"Why am I not surprised?" Kitty asked herself curiously, then shrugged, "what did you say to him?" she asked.
"Nothing of any importance," Rogue sighed, "I need to get some fresh air," she headed for the door, "I'll catch you later," she said softly, then left the room, heading down the hall, and began down the stairway into the foyer. She wasn't even paying attention where she was going, which was why she collided clumsily into Remy LeBeau, who was on his way up. Their eyes met briefly, before Rogue looked away.
Remy said nothing, did not even excuse himself, he simply stood there, looking at her, his hair hanging in a loose ponytail, some shorter wisps of hair framing his sharp face.
"Remy…" Rogue stared to the floor, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say to him, she didn't want him to rush off immediately after the collision though. She felt compelled to elucidate her actions from the previous night
Remy had one hand on the banister, the bandage on his right arm slightly showing under the sleeve of a black t-shirt that didn't seem to belong to him. He'd been about to move, and he didn't ask her what she wanted, but he stopped altogether and waited, his eyes glancing down over the banister absently.
"I just wanted to explain…about last night…" Rogue swallowed nervously, she felt as if she'd be sick again, "I was drunk – REAL drunk. I didn't mean to throw myself at you like that, I was…out of my head…you know…the drunk had just…messed with my judgement…""
"I know that," Remy's voice was dry, he sounded as if he'd been smoking too much in the last few days and it had finally taken its toll on what had been a youthful smooth voice.
Rogue glanced to his eyes for a moment, "I mean I'd have to have been really drunk, wouldn't I?" she asked.
"To make a move on me? Absolutely," he looked down, studying the scuffs on his black leather boots. "Absolutely," he said again, his voice faltering a little.
Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek, her face growing pinker with embarrassment. She tried to reassure herself in thought that she had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, women who were drunk did far worse things than kiss men – and she hadn't even kissed him at all.
Was I drunk though? She asked herself concernedly, looking away from him again, she wanted to believe she was, because if she confirmed to herself she hadn't been drunk at all, then it would mean that she still harboured feelings for the man she'd spent seven years trying to desperately forget about. "Well…I…I gotta go," she said to break the tension.
"Me too," Remy said quickly, and he was gone before she had a chance to respond to him. She sat on the stairway, rubbing her forehead which was throbbing intently.
Why was I so stupid? She asked herself dejectedly, she glanced down over immaculately kept foyer, the floor very nearly sparkling in the sunlight coming through the large windows. Her mind was reeling with the disgust with herself for having put her arms around Remy's neck the night previous, for one moment everything had almost seemed to fall into place until the moment he'd recoiled. She could barely believe it. Remy LeBeau had turned her down?
She sighed, curling her hair around her fingers, there had been one moment in her life when Remy had been madly in love with her, he'd have never turned her down, she could have done the worst things to him and he'd have still taken her back…now he'd become so cold towards her.
Why does it even matter, she scolded herself, she tried to convince herself she didn't want anything to do with him, and would rather he left the X-Men as quickly as possible, so she could be rid of his presence for all eternity and get on with her life.
He's playing games, she thought at herself. In the garage, he was definitely flirting, and then when I get a little tipsy and go near him he pulls back. This is some kind of game, it has to be, she shook her head at herself. It's like he's trying to make me fall for him then pull back the minute I do….
"Don't fall for it," she muttered to herself.
"Don't fall for what?"
Rogue pulled herself up and started down the stairs, Bobby Drake stood at the bottom of the stairs looking at her with his curious pale blue eyes, and a quizzical smile. "Oh, nothin'," Rogue gave a roll of her eyes and smiled at her own foolishness.
"You disappeared pretty fast last night after losing to Gambit," Bobby said with a smirk, "don't tell me you were afraid to face us after losing eighty bucks to gumbo."
Rogue made a face of disgust and approached him, "as if," she trilled, but winced as her own voice rang through her head, the hangover still clinging onto her brain as if for dear life. "Anyway, he cheated," Rogue added disdainfully, she headed towards the door, Bobby followed her.
"Are you alright? Lately you haven't seemed quite…like yourself," Bobby said, his voice softening a tiny bit as he came up behind her.
"What do you mean?" Rogue turned slightly to look at him from over her shoulder.
"Are you letting him get to you again?" Bobby asked sheepishly.
Rogue turned around fully, looking into Bobby's eyes, she wanted to admit it, and that she needed help to overcome it, but the words refused to pass her lips even though she had them rehearsed in her head. "No," she said slowly and carefully.
Bobby put his hands on Rogue's shoulders, "he blew his chance with you, Rogue," he reminded, "he run out on you…"
Rogue pushed Bobby away gently, "I know that, I know. And believe me, he's not getting to me…not in the slightest."
"You're lying," Bobby stated wisely, "every time someone mentions him you get all apprehensive and then you drift off into your little dream worlds, and we all know you're thinking things about him…"
"The only thing I'm thinking about is that I wish he would just leave already so I can get on with my life," Rogue stated calmly, she scratched her nose thoughtfully, "the sooner he's out of here, the sooner I can get back to normal," she explained.
"Why IS he still here? Haven't you even asked him?" Bobby asked reproachfully.
"Well…" Rogue folded her arms casually, "as far as I know, the Professor is still meant to be dealing with his criminal record…"
"As if a criminal record would bother that dipshit," Bobby rolled his eyes, "he's already a criminal."
"I know," Rogue opened the door and stepped outside, a gust of wind slamming her in the face as she did so, Bobby trailed her, "but for some reason, the fact he's wanted for murder isn't settling with him too well," she pointed out.
"Fair enough," Bobby said, "But why hasn't he just done it himself? You're not telling me he's not smart enough to break into police headquarters and delete all criminal records under his name?"
Rogue looked at him, "just for Bayville, that would be easy," Rogue stated, "but the rest of the world? I'm not so sure…" she said, "if it were all that easy, the Professor would have done it by now, right?" she asked.
"Why don't you ask the Professor if he can speed up the process…tell him Remy is disrupting your life?" Bobby suggested, his breath misted against the cold air, but his bare arms seemed unaffected by the icy breeze – and considering the basis of his powers, this wasn't very surprising.
Rogue paused for thought about what Bobby had just suggested, "y'know…I may just do that…"