A.N: This is a Romy short story, it doesn't really fit in anywhere in the series. Anyway hope you like. R and R please.
Disclaimer: If I owned X-men Evolution, do think I would be writing fan fiction? NO! God, use your brains people.
Something about love.
Dear Diary,
There's something about love that gets under your skin, that makes everything seem different, better, and at the same time, worse. At first you don't notice it, the subtle change in your perception of the world, the way that you always seem to be able to relax around that special someone. For the longest time its just mild interest, lust, a crush. You down size it, ignore it, until finally, finally, you can't forget about it, about them. There always on your mind, like a song you can't get out of your head, like the fading taste of the richest chocolate, kind of gone but never quite. Always there, in the back of your mind, driving you sweetly mad. They day you finally admit it to yourself is the best day of your life because you've found them, the only one for you, like all the storybooks say will happen one day. And then you realize that it's also the worst, because your life isn't a storybook and it will never work. There are so many reasons why it can't work. He's engaged to someone else, who, for the sake of his family, he has to marry. He's the enemy, and no one would approve or support your relationship. You can't touch. Yeah, soap operas and storybooks got nothing on this.
I know there's no way he'll ever love me back, and the worst part? Now that I've admitted it to myself I can't just ignore what I feel, its there, constantly looming in the background, and every time I see his face it hits me like a ton of bricks. IT. WILL. NEVER. WORK. So what do you do when the one person you've ever really loved will never give a shit about you? Leave the mother fucker in the dust, what else?
You will be my only companion, and that's fine by me. No one will miss me; this is something I know for certain, so I'm as good as gone, out of this fucking town and out of this life. I'm leaving the second the clock hits midnight, in fact I'm writing his by the light of my flashlight as I sit in my room waiting for my moment. I'll write again when I next stop.
The one, the only, the untouchable, and the unlovable,
Rouge
She closed the diary, running her fingers lightly over the worn red leather cover. It had been a gift from Irene that she had never before used, but now she would use it to keep an account her adventures in the world. Smiling slightly she tucked in into her black backpack, next to her clothing and the money she had been saving for months. Down below, ringing up through the silence and the dark the old grandfather clock sang out the midnight hour, it was time to go. She clicked off the flashlight, tucking it into her bag as well. She stood, forcing down the knot in her belly, and walked silently towards the door. She paused as she passed the desk she and Kitty used for homework, the younger girl's notebook rested on the wooden surface, and beside it sat a bag of pens and pencils. Rouge glanced over her shoulder towards her peacefully sleeping roommate. If she left no indication that she had left willingly and that she didn't what to be followed they would come looking for her, it was just the way the X-men worked. Quickly she flipped open the notebook open to a blank page, and grabbed a pen from the bag beside it. She scrawled a note, something about needing to find herself, and not to worry, and she'll be back soon. All lies, but she could hardly say she was leavening because an enemy didn't love her, that she was going to probably run into trouble, and that, as far as she knew, she was never coming back; that would hardly go over well. Finished, she tore the page from the book and left it resting lightly on her old pillow, waiting for Kitty to find it in the morning. That done she quickly left the room, walking on cat feet down the stars and the empty hallway into the garage. There, beneath the tarp, sat her baby, a sleek black Harley '96, Screaming Eagle. She had worked hard to save up the money to buy it, and it was one of her most prized possessions. She ran her fingers over the glossy black surface, a contented smile on her lips.
"You feel like seeing the world, baby?" She whispered, her smooth southern drawl sliding threw the still air of the garage, to, unbeknownst to her, fall lightly upon the ears of a certain Canadian.
"I don't know about the bike, darlin', but I feel like knowin' why yer out here in the middle of the night, with a bag full of stuff." Rouge gasped and spun to face the speaker. Logan was leaning against the door frame, his eyes locked on her and his face set in something close to a scowl. For a moment she stood there, shocked, and then shook her head, a wry grin spreading across her features.
"Ah think ya know what Ah'm doin' Logan. Do Ah really need to explain it to ya?" She met his eyes, and understanding passed between them. They had always understood each other and he knew she needed to do this, just like she knew by the way he stood and the way he looked that he wasn't going to stop her.
"Where will you go?" He asked a moment later, confirming her thoughts. She shrugged, looking away.
"Ah don't really know, Ah suppose Ah'll head north first, seein' as Ah haven't really seen the countryside up there." She studied the ground at her feet, more than anything just wanting to be gone. A moment later she was enveloped in a cigar and leather scented hug. She stiffened momentarily, her instinctual fear battling with the affection she felt for this man, but a moment later she forced herself to relax into the embrace, after all, it was the only thing she could give him now. They pulled away soon after, and Logan took a step back, looking mildly uncomfortable. The silence hung heavy between them for a long moment as both searched for something to say to the other. Finally Rouge turned away and slung her leg over her bike and fastening her helmet. She was about to kick the bike into roaring life when Wolverine spoke.
"Wait, take this. That sweatshirt won't do anything if you take a fall." He shrugged off his worn leather jacket and it was only then she realized that he was dressed to go riding. Wordlessly she took the offering, sliding the heavy material over her shoulders and pushing her arms through the sleeves, it was warm, and smelled like him, and it made her feel safe like nothing had veer done before. Suddenly tears stung her eyes and formed a lump in her throat, cutting off her words. All of a sudden it hit her how much she would miss him, more than she could ever say, and she wished in vain that he could come with her, but she knew it wasn't going to happen, he owed so much to the professor and he would follow the older man into hell, more importantly, he would hate himself for disserting the X-men. She cleared her throat and looked at him through the tinted visor of her helmet.
"Thank you Logan," She hesitated for a moment before adding, "for everything." The man nodded and took another, reluctant step back.
"Take care of yourself Stripes." He said gruffly, as he hit the button to open the door. "Call if you get into trouble, I'll help you out." His voice was quieter, and she knew he was embarrassed about his concern for her. The cool night air rushed in, and for along moment she stared at the winding drive in front of her. Then she turned again to look at the shadowy form of her mentor and friend.
"Goodbye Logan, tell the professor…" She trailed off, unsure how to word what she wanted to say to the man who had treated her like a daughter. But Logan nodded, he understood, just like always.
"Sure thing, darlin'." Then he waved to her, and they both knew there was nothing more to say, nothing more that could be said. With a final nod she started the bike, hesitating for another long moment, before leaving the only place that had ever really felt like home to her, and not looking back. If she had glanced behind her at the swiftly diminishing figure of Wolverine she would have seen the gruff loner wipe a single tear from his cheek before closing the garage door and heading back inside.
The highway was empty, a long lonely stretch into the endless horizon. And for the first time in a long time she felt as if she was finally free. Beneath her helmet she smiled, blinking away the tears that stung her eyes for those whom she had left behind. Goodbye, Bayville, hello world.
A.N: Tell me what you think. If I get at least 5 good reviews, I'll continue.