Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution characters are not mine.
~~~~~~~
Pietro sat on his bed, staring down at the pillow he held in his lap. How could she? The image of Gambit kissing Rogue flashed unbidden through his mind, and he clenched his jaw to refrain from screaming. Just friends, bullshit! Damnit, didn't he mean anything to her? How could she do that to him? He threw the pillow, her pillow, across the room in a fit of rage, effectively destroying one of the remaining intact lamps. He wanted to scream, he wanted to strike out at something, or someone, and most of all, he wanted to rip out that smirk that Gambit, without a doubt, had in store for him.
He glared angrily away from the pillow, pushing has hands through his platinum-colored hair. After a tense moment, he sighed, going to retrieve the pillow and squeeze it apologetically. He was not mad at her, no. He could not be. He did not blame her. It was Gambit's fault, he messed everything up. But what could he do? He already tried and she didn't listen to him. A bitter sigh escaped his lips; and she had even called him her best friend.
Well, whatever. His mouth firmed into a thin line. He was not going to mope around his room because of her. If she thought he was not good enough for her, so be it. There were other women. He would get over her, brush her aside like she did him.
Pietro paused, leaning down to press his nose into her pillow. It sounded doubtful, even to himself. With a sigh, he flopped back onto his bed, holding the pillow over his face. Damn, he just had to fall for the one girl he could not have. He lifted the pillow slightly, examining the weave of the soft fabric that held it together thoughtfully. His eyes narrowed and he tossed the pillow away again, but this time just to the other side of the bed. Enough, already! He was not going to mope anymore. Pietro Maximoff did not mope, least of all for some girl. The thought that Rogue was not just 'some girl' ran briefly through his mind, but he clenched his fist as if extinguishing the thought right there in his hand. He would show her. She had him, but she let him go. She had caught him, but she had let him go. And he did not need her. He would show her what she passed up, that he did not care, and most of all, he would show that damn cajun who dared to mess with Magneto's son that he was not just a mere trifle. His ego was bruised, but it was nothing he could not get over. It was nothing, she was nothing. And he was Pietro Maximoff, code name Quicksilver.
~~~~~~~
For some reason, this took me awhile too. I just didn't start typing it. Been getting out, instead of writing. But school again. Maybe soon a job. I'm getting busier. Still going to write, don't get me wrong. Just going to take longer. Sorry...
So, some Pietro angst here. Not much to say about that. Back to Rogue again next chapter. :)
Rielyn