A/N: I'm not happy with this chapter but the devil is. He has taken me in a direction I don't want to go. And apparently, he has changed his mind to making this story a 6-part story. I hate him... and in response to Ludi's constructive critique, he says, "he's working on it... english grammar is hard for him." Satan is a bitch.
Tumultuous
Cradling her in his arms, he admires the way the natural sunlight underlines the beauty of her profile. Her smooth silky complexion, those full luscious lips, long lashes that draws him to her eyes and if she was awake at the moment, it will lead to the most striking pair of eyes he has ever seen. Every facial feature he can remember perfectly in his mind. Every freckle, blemish, birthmark on her voluptuous body, he can recall in detail.
But if you ask him what lies beneath the exterior, all he is able to do is bend his head and admit he has not a single knowledge of what lies beneath the skin besides the unexplainable love she apparently has for him.
Earlier, she has claimed that he doesn't want to know who she is – that he is afraid to learn.
What she doesn't realize is that he can't even comprehend his own nature, so how can he possibly take on hers?
She stirs and her eyes slowly open. Resting her head on his shoulder, she smiles faintly at him and he returns the sentiment.
Perhaps a part of her is still living in her reverie. Perhaps a part of her is still holding onto a dream that only exists in her slumbering form. Whatever the reasons, the walls come down and she requests in the softest voice, barely audible to the ear, "Make love t'me, Remy."
No words are spoken after that as he picks her up and carries her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he kisses her sensually and savours her honey lips. His lips will move down to her neck, nibbling the velvety flesh. It has been a long time since he has been able to feel like this when in the intimate presence of a woman, where every taste only becomes sweeter than the last. As his lips move down her body, they rest on her pert breasts and suckle her nipple. Her back arches with pleasure and a moan escapes her lips.
His adept hands caresses her body, rubbing all the spots that he knows gives her the greatest gratification. The crook in her lower back, her inner thighs, and the outer side of her breasts – yes, he knows all the right places to touch. Reading her body has never been a problem for him. It's understanding beyond that, that is.
"Now, Remy." She requests softly, unable to take the torture of his hands any longer.
With a swift motion, he thrusts into her. Their bodies move in sync perfectly, slow at the beginning then faster as their desire can no longer be dragged on. Finally, one final thrust into her, she releases and cries out in ecstasy, bringing him to his release as well.
Breathing heavily, he looks down at her perspiring face, hoping that he can interpret what she is feeling, thinking, wanting. She looks back at him with the same intensity, trying to read his expressions and thoughts.
He sees nothing.
She sees nothing.
He slides out of her and rolls onto the side of the bed – his back to her. She too turns her back to him while finally being pulled back to reality.
She doesn't understand it.
He doesn't understand it.
How can two souls be so intertwined with one another, yet not have a single clue who the other is?
-xoxo-
Pulling the drapes back all the way, a violent burst of sunlight pours into the room and hits him. He grumbles as he tosses a pillow in the light's direction. "Close dose damn t'ings!" He yells at her while smothering his face into the bedding.
Laughing snidely, she ignores his request and walks to him. "It's almost three in the afternoon, sugah." She informs him and he flips onto his back. Squinting, she suddenly comes into perfect view and he notices she's fully dressed in a pair of jeans, a pink t-shirt and a pair of sandals.
"Where are y' going?" He asks groggily.
She saddles him and bends down so that her face is an inch away from his. "Somewhere." She responds vaguely and presses her lips against his. Letting his passion overrun him, he kisses her back with just as much ferocity not even noticing how she is lifting his arm above his head.
Snap.
She pulls back and gets off of him. He looks up to find that he has been handcuffed to the bedpost. Not knowing whether to scowl or smile, he opts for the latter and grins slyly at her.
"We gonna play Cops and Robbers, chere?" He questions suggestively.
"Hm... if we were, seems like it's game over since the thief has obviously been caught." She points out.
"How about y' release me and we'll play a fair game, chere?" He proposes, clearly amused by the situation.
"Wasn't born yesterday, Cajun. Ah don't believe ya even know the meaning of 'fair'." She scoffs. With that last comment, she turns around and heads for the door.
"Wait! Where do y' t'ink you're going?" He cries from his position, realizing that he could be in this spot for an indefinite amount of time.
"Ah'm gonna go grab some food. Ah'll be back soon." She shrugs her answer not even bothering to turn around and look at him.
"But y' can't leave me like dis!" He yells after her.
"Ya got your night sugah, it's mah turn that ah get mah two." She simply states before she slams the door shut.
-xoxo-
Leaning back against the chair with a carton of Chinese food in hand, she watches him. He has been asleep since she has returned and she doesn't know whether or not he is feigning it. A part of her knows that he probably is. He is calculating his next move, trying to figure out how to be two steps ahead of her.
She, too, is calculating her next move. A part of her wants to give up the insanity and move beyond all the hurt, pain, and destruction. The other part of her just won't let go. She wants to help him, yet she wants to hurt him. It's a constant battle between her heart and mind. But she can't help but think that once the battle ceases, it will all just simply end.
And that scares her more than the twisted desire to love and hurt him.
"Y' gonna offer me some?" He asks her, finally waking up from his long slumber.
"Ya hate Chinese." She replies.
"Still remember?' He queries redundantly.
"That's why ah got Chinese." She answers icily.
"Love your consideration, Rogue. Always was one of your best characteristics..." He states, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"Couldn't depend on you t'look out for me... knowing your inability to maintain a stable life and all." She jeers right back.
A bitter chuckle leaves his mouth as he says, "So, we're back t' square one."
"Don't think we ever left square one. Think we just took a temporary leave of absence." She comments.
"Why don' y' come back over here and we take anot'er one of dose absences?" He suggests slowly, thickening his Cajun accent.
"Nice try, Swamp Rat, but the cards are in mah hands t'night, ah do the suggesting and you just do what ah tell ya to do." She tells him bluntly and smirks with satisfaction.
"And what do y' want me t'do, chere? Because from my position, I don' t'ink I can do much of what y' want." He says and shakes his handcuffed hand to support his point.
She puts down her carton of food, wipes her mouth with a napkin and casually glides across the room to his side. She bends over with her hands pressed firmly against the mattress to support herself. "What ah want don't require ya t' do anything but look pretty, right where ya are." She drawls.
"Kinky. Y're getting me all excited here, chere." He says while giving her a wink.
"Ah can see that..." She says and her eyes shifts to the sudden animated area on his body.
Just as he is about to make another provoking comment, she beats him to it as she snaps, "But contain yourself. Ah don't have time for any more bullshit."
"And de fun has ended. What do y' want, den, Rogue? And try telling me dis time as opposed to all de ot'er times where y' just assume dat I would know. Let me remind y' again, I don't have telepathy." He mocks.
"Tell me what ya want from me. Why did ya come back here after ditchin' me all those months ago? Why are we torturing ourselves again? What makes this time so much different from all the other?" She ignores his comment and goes straight to the point.
"Maybe dis time isn't so different..." He says simply.
"Ah knew ah should have killed ya when ah had the chance." She cries out in frustration and walks away from him.
"You can still do it now." He points out in an almost challenging tone, wanting to find out just how far she'll go which also means finding out just how much he has pained her.
"Ain't mah philosophy to hurt the wounded." She spits out bitterly.
"And who said I'm wounded?" He questions.
"Ah want an answer, Remy." She ignores his question to make her demand.
"I can't give y' one – at least, not one dat y' want t'hear." He tells her honestly.
"Tell me anyway." She requests, this time in a much softer voice.
"Just wanted t' fuck ot'er women." He states blatantly. She flinches from his harsh words.
"And realized dat y' were de best fuck out of all of 'em." He continues malevolently and purposely adding insult to the injury.
Finally realizing what he is doing to her, she walks back to the bed and climbs on top of him. Tears are forming in her eyes as she gazes into his. "Why do we do this to each other?" She queries.
"Because it's what we do." He answers and stares straight into her vulnerable green eyes.
"Ah want t'stop now." She whispers.
"I don' t'ink we know how, Rogue." He states truthfully.
"Just let me help ya." She tells him.
"I can't help myself, ain't no way you can do it." He responds.
"Let me in so ah can understand. Let me see what's in this head of yours. Let me know your past, your torments, your everything. Let me help ya." She instructs, but he thrashes his body violently trying to get her off him.
"Get off me, Rogue! Just get off! You can't help me because dere is no way t'help me! I'm a fucking lost cause! Just get de fuck off of me!" He yells at her, trying to suppress the fierce painful emotions that are trying to escape.
She hangs onto him though as she begins to kiss his face, his neck, his chest, everywhere and anywhere on his body that might hold a scar she doesn't know about. "Ah love ya. Let me understand who ah'm loving. Let me help ya release them." She whispers over and over again between her multitudes of kisses.
"Rogue! Stop it! Just stop it!" He cries out while every single emotion hits him like a hurricane. He can't distinguish the hatred from the love, the pain from the joy, the desire from the detested, the sadness from the anger. He can't stand it anymore. This is why he never looks back. This is why he can't look back because he can't deal with the conflicting agonizing emotions. This is why he has left her in the first place. She causes him to feel everything that is possible when most of the time he doesn't want to feel at all.
"Just tell me, Remy. Release the demons." She instructs him and kisses him on his bottom lip, which he snaps his mouth shut and bites into her upper lip.
He expects her to cry out in pain and hopefully end this emancipation of his soul. But she merely pulls back as a drop of blood falls onto his lips. The saline taste of her blood seeps onto his tongue.
The exchange has been made and he has unwillingly accepted.
----------------------------------