Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 16
Chapter 5: Sorry Enough
"So…" Remy said a long while after they'd spent what felt like an eternity walking with no destination. The streets of uptown Bayville were quiet, it had grown late, and now only the distant drone of traffic could be heard several blocks away, and the only light came from the overhead streetlights, which were casting an orange light against the damp sidewalks.
"So…" Rogue said, her arm was around his back, holding onto the side of his jacket as they walked. It had been the first thing he'd really said in a while.
"So…what'd you want to do now?" Remy asked, he glanced at her slightly, his expression soft, but unreadable.
"I don't know," Rogue confessed, "how about you?"
"I don't know anymore…" Rogue shrugged.
"I should have danced with you," He sighed.
Rogue turned to him, "huh?" She asked, stopping.
Remy stopped too, "at the restaurant, I should have danced with you," he sighed yet again, looking down, "I wanted this night to be perfect, but…I guess I didn't plan ahead too much…and I've kind of screwed it up."
"No, it was perfect…it's been fun, and stupid and silly and just…totally relaxed…" Rogue said, "a celebration. I didn't have intentions of coming out for perfect romance and a 'plan'," she explained.
"No, but I owe you that. I have seven years of romance to make up for, Marie."
Rogue drew her breath, she'd almost thought he'd forgotten her real name, "Remy…I don't care what we do, we could have eaten out of garbage cans downtown while junkies sang 'Baby Got Back' to us and it still would have been a great night – 'cause it's with you…and that's all I want."
Remy found a nearby wall to sit on, he took his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up, "sorry."
"Stop apologising, you apologised enough three nights ago," she reminded, she sat beside him. She watched as he took a long drag of the cigarette, the smoke curled into the air from his lips as he exhaled. She'd have given anything to taste those lips, smoke or not.
"Just like old times," Rogue said softly, "me and you together outside after a date…" she said. "I remember the last date we had."
Remy rested his arms on his knees, cigarette dangling from his fingers, he was looking down at the ground, deep in thought. "You do?"
"How could you forget?" Rogue asked softly, "it was your twenty first birthday," Rogue reminded, she hugged herself against a chill in the air, "we left the restaurant…after another one of those silly little fights…we were standing outside…and I had my hands on your collar. God, I wanted to kiss you so bad."
Remy snorted as if in contempt of the thought they might never kiss.
Rogue smiled to herself, staring into space, "we got caught in the rain…" she deliberately left out the part of his visiting his daughters grave at the cemetery, "and we were bein' as intimate as we could in the van which we'd borrowed…I had that leather coat of yours around me…god you always looked so good in that coat," Rogue smirked, "I remember how that coat smelled and felt around me, the lining silky against my skin…"
Remy flicked the ash of his cigarette onto the pavement.
Rogue shivered in the cold, a light rain begun to come down, "don't you remember?"
"A little," Remy said, "durin' the last seven years tried not to remember too much 'cause I figured dwellin' on good memories would only fuck my mind up more," he said drunkenly.
Rogue reached over and stroked his hair away from his face, "remember the shower."
"That part, I didn't forget," he said with a strange sort of smirk that fitted his face, a smirk that reminded Rogue of the old Remy.
Rogue kept a serious expression as he turned to look at her, his eyes glowed slightly in the darkness, an intense red that made her heart thud within her chest. "It was the next day that you left."
"I know," He finished his cigarette and flicked the butt away, it made a hiss against the wet pavement. "Spent every single day regrettin' it. But I was scared and stupid…" he picked at the scab of a small cut on his left hand. "Thought of comin' back so many times…but I figured…you'd never understand…guess it's done now anyway."
Rogue reached over and took his hand to stop him from doing so, "that's behind us both, right?"
"Easier said than done though, isn't it?" he asked softly, "Chere…I'm still never gonna forget what happened," he looked at her, "I…can't really forgive you…and you can't really forgive me for other things…"
"But I'm NOT going to let it stop me from bein' with you. I've waited seven years just to be able to hold your hand…Remy…to be besides you, to smell that cologne you wear, to smell the smoke on your breath, to hear your heartbeat through your shirt…no matter how mad I was at you…the good stuff is always more powerful than the anger."
Remy could have kissed her right then for that remark. It was such the perfect thing for her to say. Yet another of those reasons he was falling so deeply in love with her again – not that he really had stopped – was that she always seemed to say the right thing when he was at his most weak, and it always turned him around and made him want to go running back for more. She was like a drug he was addicted to.
Rogue rested her cheek against his shoulder, sitting with him, listening to the rain. They were both getting soaked but it didn't seem to matter anymore. The moment was just so perfect. Quietly serene, blissful, and romantic.
"Do you want me to come back to your room tonight?" Remy asked, he was unsure if the things she'd brought up were a possible hint to her wanting more from the relationship than she'd received previously. He didn't mind, the first time had been fun despite his reluctance, but he rather would have waited, he felt a little emotionally unstable to be able to love her in the way that she should be loved right now. And he hoped that she didn't expect too much tonight. He hadn't had time to prepare himself for much yet.
"Do you?" Rogue asked, although there was something in his expression that told her he didn't. That was fine. Seven years ago she'd been curious, but now – after having done more growing up – she didn't have as much curiosity as she'd once was. Besides, it seemed to be too soon for anything other than that.
"Do you…need…to be with me?" he asked, his voice thick, tone drunken. He wasn't sure if he'd even remember this in the morning.
Rogue looked him right in the eyes, "I don't want to be with you because I need to…I want to be with you when it feels right…"
"Can I ask something?" Remy queried. He figured since the alcohol had kicked in, and there was more than likely no chance he'd remember, he might as well ask what he'd been curious about since returning to the mansion in January.
"Ask away," Rogue shrugged.
"You still curious?"
"I don't get what you mean…" Rogue responded, and truly she didn't.
"What I mean is…in seven years…have you…I don't know…ever independently…you know…experimented?"
"Remy…you've lost me…" Rogue raised an eyebrow.
"I just…I want to know…did you ever…even once or twice…or occasionally…" he trailed off, looking at her pointedly.
Rogue shrugged, "I don't understand."
"Never mind," he shook his head, "chere, we need to get out of this rain…" he looked up, "before we both end up with the flu."
"Okay," she nodded, "lets go home."
"Home…" Remy mouthed quietly, "I'm not sure if the Mansion is really home quiet yet."
"Give it time, Remy. Give it time."