A/N: REVISION! WOO!
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"Chere..."
She didn't respond to the plea in the voice of who called for her, but rather she stirred, wrapping herself more thoroughly into the old quilt that was now threatening to smother her.
"Chere..." she heard again, her shoulder nudged and in what seemed like an excrutiatingly long period of time, she opened her eyes just wide enough to clear the fuzz of her vision.
"You." she stated simply, faintness, and fatigue betraying her actual surprise.
Remy smiled down at her, his face contorted in a kind of relieved, yet skeptical fashion.
"It's good ta' see yo' awake. Gambit startin' ta' t'ink yo' were never go'nna open 'dem pretty eyes o' yo's."
Rogue took a moment, listening to his voice, surrounding herself with it, before pulling herself upwards to lean against an unexpected headborad. How had she come to have a bed to lay in? Last she remembered she was...
"You hungr'ay, chere?" she was shocked out of her cloudy thoughts.
"N'ah." replied she, putting a hand to her head.
Gambit stood, moving from a seat beside her bed, to an old, obviously past it's better days, mahogany dresser, in which he set down upon it a tray riddled with food and drink.
"Gambit be noticin' that, chere, ain't wearin' non gloves."
Rogue became immediately startled, taking the hand from her head, and the other one in her lap, to hold one another. She had nothing to say in her defense.
"Yo' not need them no mo'?" He turned from the chest of drawers, to look her in the eye.
She did well to keep her head downcast, and eyes hidden from his demon-like view. He came near her once more, setting himself down in a chair that was in much the same condition as the dresser, "Yo' can tell, Remy, chere. He good at keeping secrets."
"Where are we?" she asked in a down-trodden sort of way.
"Safe." he replied quietly. Rogue rolled her eyes, and took now, this moment, to glance out the small window beside her bed, adjacent from Gambit.
"It's snowing..."
"That it is. Gambit found yo' out dere, in d'at snow. Why was chere out dere, all alone?"
Moments passed, and Rogue took this time to pull her hair upwards, into a loose, but well secured knotted sort of bun. How long had it been since she had seen this man? Two months, maybe three. He had all but dissapeared after that whole world crisis thing. She had changed, and undoubtedly, so had he. How dumb she had been to leave her gloves behind. They were her last line of defense. Not having them with her made her so uneasy she could have thrown up but, what did she have to hide from this man? He had helped her, and oh, how she needed someone to talk to.
"Ah' was runnin'." she said finally.
"It was a bit late to' be runnin', non?"
She didn't answer.
"What was yo' runnin' from?"
Rogue suddenly flared up. That was none of his buisness! How dare he ask! She decided now was the time to take her leave, and so, slightly wobbling, she stood up, ignoring the Swamp Rat's coaxing.
"What yo' doin', chere?"
"Goin' home." she answered violently, but her anger took perhaps a bit too much out of her, and she stumbled, falling to the ground with a thunk, bruising the palms of her naked hands. She didn't try to get up, this time.
"Chere?" Remy asked, almost afraid to start her up again, but nothing happened. She was crying.
"Oh, chere..." she heard from behind, and she began to tremble as two warm arms, took hold of her shoulders, hugging her from behind.
"Don' cry. You can hit, Gambit, and you can yell and curse at him...but don' cry." he began to lift her up, and sat her back down on the bed, sitting beside her.
"Tell, Remy what da' matter be. He make it better."
"Why are ya'h doin' this, Cajun?" she asked abruptly, and he was shocked out his stupor, as he tried his best to get a glimpse of her clear green eyes, "I ain't never been nice to ya'h. Ah' don't understand."
He shrugged, "Gambit jus' can't resist a pretty fille in distess." He tossed her a winning grin.
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A/N: Yeah, the revisions were EXTREMELY severe. So, ON TO the next chapter!
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"Chere..."
She didn't respond to the plea in the voice of who called for her, but rather she stirred, wrapping herself more thoroughly into the old quilt that was now threatening to smother her.
"Chere..." she heard again, her shoulder nudged and in what seemed like an excrutiatingly long period of time, she opened her eyes just wide enough to clear the fuzz of her vision.
"You." she stated simply, faintness, and fatigue betraying her actual surprise.
Remy smiled down at her, his face contorted in a kind of relieved, yet skeptical fashion.
"It's good ta' see yo' awake. Gambit startin' ta' t'ink yo' were never go'nna open 'dem pretty eyes o' yo's."
Rogue took a moment, listening to his voice, surrounding herself with it, before pulling herself upwards to lean against an unexpected headborad. How had she come to have a bed to lay in? Last she remembered she was...
"You hungr'ay, chere?" she was shocked out of her cloudy thoughts.
"N'ah." replied she, putting a hand to her head.
Gambit stood, moving from a seat beside her bed, to an old, obviously past it's better days, mahogany dresser, in which he set down upon it a tray riddled with food and drink.
"Gambit be noticin' that, chere, ain't wearin' non gloves."
Rogue became immediately startled, taking the hand from her head, and the other one in her lap, to hold one another. She had nothing to say in her defense.
"Yo' not need them no mo'?" He turned from the chest of drawers, to look her in the eye.
She did well to keep her head downcast, and eyes hidden from his demon-like view. He came near her once more, setting himself down in a chair that was in much the same condition as the dresser, "Yo' can tell, Remy, chere. He good at keeping secrets."
"Where are we?" she asked in a down-trodden sort of way.
"Safe." he replied quietly. Rogue rolled her eyes, and took now, this moment, to glance out the small window beside her bed, adjacent from Gambit.
"It's snowing..."
"That it is. Gambit found yo' out dere, in d'at snow. Why was chere out dere, all alone?"
Moments passed, and Rogue took this time to pull her hair upwards, into a loose, but well secured knotted sort of bun. How long had it been since she had seen this man? Two months, maybe three. He had all but dissapeared after that whole world crisis thing. She had changed, and undoubtedly, so had he. How dumb she had been to leave her gloves behind. They were her last line of defense. Not having them with her made her so uneasy she could have thrown up but, what did she have to hide from this man? He had helped her, and oh, how she needed someone to talk to.
"Ah' was runnin'." she said finally.
"It was a bit late to' be runnin', non?"
She didn't answer.
"What was yo' runnin' from?"
Rogue suddenly flared up. That was none of his buisness! How dare he ask! She decided now was the time to take her leave, and so, slightly wobbling, she stood up, ignoring the Swamp Rat's coaxing.
"What yo' doin', chere?"
"Goin' home." she answered violently, but her anger took perhaps a bit too much out of her, and she stumbled, falling to the ground with a thunk, bruising the palms of her naked hands. She didn't try to get up, this time.
"Chere?" Remy asked, almost afraid to start her up again, but nothing happened. She was crying.
"Oh, chere..." she heard from behind, and she began to tremble as two warm arms, took hold of her shoulders, hugging her from behind.
"Don' cry. You can hit, Gambit, and you can yell and curse at him...but don' cry." he began to lift her up, and sat her back down on the bed, sitting beside her.
"Tell, Remy what da' matter be. He make it better."
"Why are ya'h doin' this, Cajun?" she asked abruptly, and he was shocked out his stupor, as he tried his best to get a glimpse of her clear green eyes, "I ain't never been nice to ya'h. Ah' don't understand."
He shrugged, "Gambit jus' can't resist a pretty fille in distess." He tossed her a winning grin.
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A/N: Yeah, the revisions were EXTREMELY severe. So, ON TO the next chapter!