Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution characters are not mine.
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Rogue fiddled with the sleeves of her shirt as she sat her bag on top of the picnic table. Tapping her foot, she scanned the area around the gym, glancing every now and then towards the parking lot, as if contemplating a swift retreat. Why was she even here? It was too late to back out anyhow, she had already sent the rest of the X-Men home, telling them that she had to speak with a teacher and that she would find an alternate way to get home. She sighed. So, she was here, and what now? That swamp rat better get there soon, she was not going to wait forever.
As if on cue, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle and a moment later two hands were placed on her hips from behind. "Remy be glad y' take him up on de date," a husky voice murmured into her ear.
Rogue spun around, drawing back to put some distance between herself and the cajun. "Ah hate it when yah sneak up on meh lahke that!"
"Sorry, chere, I can' help it. De look on y' face each time is priceless." He smirked, his eyes roaming over her body again, making her fidget uncomfortably.
Rogue crossed her arms, trying to give him a stern look, but failing miserably. "An' just what do yah mean by 'date'? Ah nevah agreed ta nothin' lahke that."
"Why sure y' did, belle. Y'here, aren' y'?"
"But that doesn' mean that Ah..." She paused as Remy started walking away, towards the parking lot. "An' jus' wheah d'ya think y're goin'? Ah ain' finished talkin' yet!"
"C'mon, chere. Follow Remy." He beckoned to her without turning around, as if he knew she would follow and Rogue grimaced. He was NOT going to get his way. Instead, she stood there, arms folded across her chest, staring angrily at Remy's back. "Chere, hurry up."
"Ah ain' goin' with yah."
Remy stopped walking, turning around and placing his hands on his hips as he eyed her with an amused smirk. He approached her again and she stood her ground, continuing to glare at him. Raising his gloved hands, he cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up as he leaned in close. Her frown faded, her mouth becoming more slack, and her face rouged at his nearness, fear flitting through her eyes, but he caressed her cheek reassuringly. "Oh, cherie, don' be afraid. Remy ain' gon' t' hurt y' none," he whispered, wetting his lips. Her eyes were drawn to the motion, and she repeated it, drawing her tongue lightly over her lips.
Rogue took in a shuddering breath, wanting to draw away but finding herself unable to. She raised her hands to clutch at his wrists, murmuring half-heartedly, "Ah ain' afraid o' yah."
Remy smiled, drawing back slightly, and Rogue felt a desire to cry out, to pull him back into the intimate space between them. "Den what's de problem, chere?"
"Ah... Ah'm not..." She hesitated, confusion running over her. Why did she hesitate? Why didn't she want to go with him? "Ah.. guess there isn' one." Remy smiled, releasing her slowly, letting his gloved fingers leave a soft trail over her cheek.
"Den let's go. Trus' Remy, ma belle fille." He extended his hand towards her, waiting patiently. "Please?" Rogue stared at his hand, with its long fingers, slender and deft-looking. Wait, wait, it was going so fast, she could not think straight. He seemed to be so dependent on her choice, as if he would crumble if she refused him. Could she even refuse him? But then that would mean she would follow him, her enemy. Who knows where he would take her, and that was dangerous. Still, he pulled at her, not physically, but emotionally. She looked up into his eyes, regretting it the moment she did, as he silently pleaded his case with his gaze. Every fiber of her being fought her sense of reason when she looked up at him. He whispered, "Cherie," and she found her heart palpitating. He had her. Rogue lifted her hand, trembling, slowly moving it to take his when she paused, closing her eyes and looking as if she was going through some internal fight.
Suddenly, a scream tore out from her throat, "N-No!" and she pulled back, shying away from Remy, avoiding meeting his pained stare. "Ah don' trust ya! Y're an Acolyte, one o' Magneto's goons! Ah don' wan' ta get ta know ya, an Ah def'nitely don' wan' ta go on a date with ya! Leave meh alone!" She turned to run away, but he caught her wrist.
"Chere, please," he pleaded.
"No, no, leave meh alone, let meh go! Don' touch meh!"
"Please, listen t' Remy. Let m' explain."
"Ah don' want ta listen ta ya no more."
"Rogue." He used her name. Instead of 'chere' or 'belle,' and the effect calmed her down although she still fought a bit to get out of his hold.
"Please, Remy," her voice was softer, pleading. "Please don' do this ta meh."
"Do what, chere. What am I doin'?"
Rogue limpened, though she still stood upright. She did not want to fight, she could not fight him anymore. "Please don' use meh, please don' manipulate meh." Suddenly tears came unbidden from her eyes, though she fought fruitlessly to hold them back. "Please." She remembered Risty, or rather Mystique, and all the lies that were fed her. How Mystique played her emotions, and Rogue was her own daughter. How could Mystique use her in such cold blood? Mystique had infiltrated her heart with her Risty persona. And Rogue could not remember feeling any more betrayed. She learned then that she should never trust anybody, make close friends with anybody like she had with Risty. Risty had made her feel happy at times, even normal, but it was all a lie. Like Remy. He was all a lie, she was sure. He was an Acolyte, no more capable of being trusted than Mystique. But she could not fight him. Why wouldn't he relent? Please.
Remy just looked at her for a moment, feeling the slew of emotions that she did through his empathy. Just what had this girl gone through? Sure, not being able to touch was no piece of cake, but surely it was not that rough. Just what had happened to make her feel so terrified? He hesitated slightly. Maybe he shouldn't play with her. She seemed to have bottled up quite a bit of pain inside of her, could she take this game?
"Rogue," he began softly, hesitantly. "Chere, please, jus' let me... Why don' we jus' go f' a bite, or somethin'? An' we can talk. Remy won' rush y' no more, I promise." She raised her chin, her green eyes glimmering with unshed tears that soon spilled down her pale cheeks. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile, at that moment as he raised a finger to wipe her tears away. She internally scolded herself for crying in front of him, for crying in front of anybody, but she was not able to help it. She felt so weak. She could not fight anymore.
"Okay." She lifted her hand to take his and he lead her to where his motorcycle rested, her backpack forgotten on the picnic table.
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I debated momentarily to have Pietro pop out at the end and have him have heard everything. But then I decided I just wanted this pure Remy/Rogue interaction.
Remy is still bad, but look, a hesitation. Not that he cares about her, yet. Just wondering if she could take the game, though he still continued. It's a good start at least. Not devoid of a conscience.
I also was gonna have Rogue give in much sooner than she did, but I didn't want her to seem that easy for Remy to seduce. I mean, not that she loves him yet, or is really seduced, but he's got her coming along with him with a bit of persuasion, and that took a bit, I think. I hope I made that clear. Just to make it clear that she is a challenge for him.
A part of me also regrets that there is no true tenderness shared between Remy and Rogue just yet. Just alot of Remy being forward, cocky, and pushy, and Rogue feeling attracted, confused, and scared. Don't worry, and I'm telling this to myself too, there'll be time for that later.
Mm. With how I'm planning the story to go, I've been wondering something. How graphic do you think I should be? And whether the rating goes up depends on how graphic I choose to be.
Sorry, Rietro-lovers, this is a Romy, but don't worry, I have something in store that ought to satiate you. :)
Rielyn