Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution is not mine.
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Pietro wasn't in class the next morning, much to Rogue's dismay, and relief. She wasn't looking forward to seeing him, much less talk to him, after what he had witnessed the previous day. Not to mention that she and Remy were sort of going out now. Still, she felt obligated to talk to Pietro, to make sure that he was okay, and if not, that he would be okay. She was just grateful that she wouldn't have to do it today.
Remy sauntered in, his gaze immediately seeking hers, and it displeased his fan club greatly when he passed his usual seat to sit beside her. Admittedly, she felt a bit of triumph over her tormentors, but it was overshadowed by her guilt towards Pietro.
"Mornin', cherie." Remy grinned, taking her hand and pressing his lips to the gloved knuckles. She smiled thinly at him, withdrawing her hand and focusing on her desk, fingering the green scarf that she wore loosely around her neck.
"That's Pietro's seat, Remy."
He leaned back in the seat, arching an eyebrow. "He ain' here, an' Remy don' see no nametag." He turned his head away to give her a side-long glance and she shrank slightly. "Dat's a way t' greet me. Talkin' 'bout anot'er man, dat y' appar'ntly want t' sit beside, 'stead of me."
Rogue sighed. "Ah'm sorry. It's jus' that... Ah hurt Pietro, Remy. Ah mean, he... Well, it don' matter," she finished quickly, deciding not to talk about how Pietro felt.
"Pietro is a big boy, chere. He can take care o' himself."
"Ya shoulda seen the look on his face, Remy. An' it was all 'cause o' me." Her green eyes flickered up to his expressively. "An' you. Though 'course, he was mah friend, not yoahs." She looked back down to her desk. "We shouldn' have-"
"Chere, y' run y' own life, not Pietro. Don' y' regret none 'cause he don' approve. He has no right t' make y' feel like dat." He tilted his head, reaching out to brush his fingers through her hair. "If y' ask me, he de one who be doin' wrong. He's hurtin' y', chere. He's tryin' t' control y', but y' aren' even his."
She didn't meet his gaze for a few moments, pensive. Remy was right. Who did Pietro think he was, to try to govern her every action? She could think for herself, and she needed no protection. And she definitely didn't need anyone trying to control her. Pietro was the liar and manipulator here; acting sweet and concerned for her, just to pit her against Remy. Her jaw hardened, the memories of the speed demon's grin pushed out of her mind. She lifted her chin to give Remy a small smile.
She was about to speak when Taryn stepped between them, drawing his eyes up, and over her body, to hers. "Hey, Remy, we miss you," she purred, giving him an enticing look as she placed a hand on her hip. "Why are you all the way over here?" Rogue stiffened, clenching her fists and suddenly feeling vulnerable. In giving Remy a chance to be with her, she also gave him a chance to hurt her terribly, by taking up with another girl. It was not like it was official or anything, so far. Not yet. He had no real obligation to stay. Fear held her tongue and gripped her heart; what if she lost him? Then everything would be messed up for no reason. Life would be so much more a hell for her.
"Remy would t'ink dat de answer would be obvious." He arched an eyebrow up at the girl standing between them, causing her to falter. A small but visible wave of relief washed over Rogue, though she still listened carefully to their conversation.
"You mean, her?" Taryn stepped to the side and gestured towards Rogue, who was narrowing her eyes dangerously. "You must be kidding me."
"Et pourquoi?" Taryn knit her brows in confusion, clearly not understanding. Remy smiled, his eyes flickering down to Rogue's mischievously. He began speaking to Taryn in an intimate tone of voice, as if in praise to her. "Elle est plus belle que tu peux essayer d'être." He smirked, though his voice continued in a soothing and seductive tone. "Et plus intelligente. Vois, tu parais un pêche avec ta bouche qui ouvre et ferme encore et encore."
Taryn flipped her hair and smiled triumphantly at Rogue, who snorted and began laughing hysterically. A little put off, Taryn turned back towards Remy, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What?"
Remy smiled, waving his hand dismissively. "Not'ing, chere. Inside joke. Jus' go back t' y' seat."
Taryn pouted, taking his hand and tickling it gently with hers. "You're going to come with me, right?" She leaned in close to him until her nose just barely brushed against his and walked her fingers along his collar bone, her eyes following her hand. "I'll make it worthwhile..." Her eyes flickered back up to his as she smiled suggestively. Rogue sobered, her mirth gone. Taryn could touch him. Something Rogue would never be able to do. So what did she have that could possibly convince him to stay? He had his needs, after all, and she would never be able to satisfy them. Even if she wanted to, she added as an afterthought. He wasn't getting anything until she was good and ready. She frowned at her train of thought. That would never happen, of course, so there was no point in thinking about that. She would have to hold out indefinitely, because of her powers. And in the meanwhile, Taryn, or any equivalent hussy who could give him what he needed, would tempt him. Rogue had no chance.
Remy felt the sudden funk that Rogue was sinking into and he shoved Taryn away rather forcefully, evoking an indignant squawk from her as she stumbled to keep her balance. He looked up at her, his face emotionless and showing no desire for her. "I'm not int'rested."
Taryn stared at him for a moment, shocked and insulted. After a beat, her face contorted into a sneer. "No? You'd rather have her?" Her lip curled with disgust as she tilted to gesture towards Rogue. "You don't know what you're getting into." She grinned sardonically, as if about to spread a vicious secret. "She's a mutie," she hissed, her eyes lighting up victoriously. But the response was not exactly what she expected.
Remy stood up suddenly, causing Taryn to take a hesitant step backwards. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes cold and calculating, but she met them with a defiant smirk. He chuckled then, lowering his gaze as if to look her over appraisingly.
Taryn posed, jutting her chest out towards him. "What's so funny?" She smiled coyly as she reached a hand out for his. He looked at it for a moment before opting to reach up and take her face in his hand, running his thumb gently over her lips.
"Well, chere, de funny t'ing is that..." He leaned in close, much like she had done earlier, his eyes focused on hers. Suddenly, their color shimmered slightly and faded, brown to red, white to black; and Taryn found herself looking up into a pair of demon eyes. "I'm one too." Taryn broke away with a gasp, staring at him unbelievingly. It was when Remy winked at her and blew her a kiss that she finally huffed, spinning around with a flip of her hair, and stormed back to her chair. His eyes returned to the disguised brown as he returned to his seat, his hand moving away from his image inducer.
"They're gonna hate ya now," Rogue murmured, speaking up for the first time since Taryn approached, her voice nonchalant though she stared at him. So that was why he looked different that second time she met him. When they met for the first time, on the battlefield, he had disguised his peculiar eye color, like he was doing now. But then there was that time when she had encountered him at school, before he enrolled, and she had noticed that there was something different, but she could not quite place what. Now she realized that it was his eyes. Red irises on black. Demonic. While they did not frighten her or throw her off-balance, they did intrigue her. She decided she liked them.
"I don' particularly care, ma belle fille." He grinned winningly at her. "Pendant que tu m'aimes."
Rogue smirked, rolling her eyes. "Ah nevah said that Ah loved ya, swamp rat."
"Oui, mais y' like Remy, an' dat's a start."
"An' when did Ah say that Ah lahked ya?"
"Oh, chere, y' be so cruel t' Remy." He leaned forward and touched his fingers to her neck through the scarf. "Mebbe he need t' give y' anot'er kiss t' melt dat icy heart o' y's." Rogue felt the blood rush to her face and she turned away.
"No," she said faintly, a tinge of sorrow in her voice.
Remy tilted his head, hearing her tone. "No?" He reached forward once more, this time to touch her shoulder reassuringly. "Dat's okay, chere. I ain' gon' t' rush y', like I told y' before."
"It ain' that, Remy." Sighing, she shrugged his hand off of her shoulder. "Jus' forget it."
"Forget what, chere?"
She turned to eye him, a trace of fiery frustration becoming apparent in her voice. "Kissin' meh, touchin' meh, whatevah. Ya got th' picture, swamp rat?"
"I can' do dat, chere." He grinned. "Y're too soft an' y' taste too good."
"Oh, get off it!" she snapped harshly. "It ain' real an' ya know it. An' it'll nevah be real." Her green eyes darkened. "Once ya realize that-"
"Remy will still love y' jus' as much," he finished. "Chere, y' don' need t' touch t' be able t' feel." As if to prove his point, he took her hand gently and pressed his lips to her gloved palm, his eyes fixated on hers meaningfully.
She shook her head slightly. "Ah don' understand..." she breathed, perplexed. At that moment, movement at the head of the classroom caught their attention; the teacher had arrived. Remy smiled at Rogue, patting her hand before releasing his hold.
"Remy will show y' later, chere," he whispered. "Meet me aft' school, by the gym again."
Rogue nodded almost imperceptibly, clutching her hand, still warm from his touch, to her body, as if trying to transfer its heat to her chest. She did not understand. How could she feel him without being able to touch? She would never feel the bristle of his goatee, never feel the individual strands of his auburn hair, never be able to press her face into his neck. So, just what was Remy getting at? She snuck a glance at his profile. Maybe it was just that she did not understand Remy himself. Even just sitting there watching the teacher he looked so self-assured, and he always projected a devil-may-care attitude. Yet he hid, like Kurt, behind his image inducer. Although, chances were that it would be easier for him to adjust to school if he pretended to be normal, and not openly mutant.
Then she remembered about how he had dazed her on the battlefield, charmed her while they were pitted against eachother, and somehow she thought that he did not need the image inducer to charm his way through school.
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It took me a bit longer to churn this one out, particularly because I don't really know what I want to happen exactly. I mean, I tend to end up just typing, without a plan. But now I get on the computer, put my fingers on the keyboard, and stare at the screen, thinking, 'errrr...' As a result, awkward writing. That's okay. Once I finish every chapter, I'm going to go back and revise it.
Updates are going to come around a bit more slowly, now that summer school has started. Though then again, I did write a good portion of this story while I was sitting there in class. :-P And as a disclaimer, it's not that I failed my classes, I'm double majoring. Summer school will just make my four years easier on me. I want to enjoy my four years, man!
My lingo is outdated? Wow. Make me feel all old. I don't understand how though. What? U want me 2 typ lyk dis or sumthin? Dat wat u mean? Yo yo yo, am I down wit da tymes? Dis is whack, yo! Lol!!!!111
.... Riiiiight.
If so, get used to disappointment. I hate people who type like that. But chances are that's not what was meant, so enlighten me, plz. ;)
What else, what else. Hmm. Do review, I like having gotten past the hundred reviews mark, but like all greedy authors, I want more! Heh. Thanks though for the support. Otherwise I would have lost interest a long time ago. A long time ago being like yesterday or so. I haven't been writing this that long. :)
Rielyn