Touching

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution is so not mine.

He did not stop, striding forth with the constant determination to show no emotion, until he reached his apartment door. Or so he thought. It took Remy a moment when he reached out for the doorknob to realize that he was facing the wrong direction – he had moved across the hall that day. But he still turned the knob.

Finding it open, he slipped noiselessly into his former living quarters. Much was the same, except for the fact that his old furniture was shoved away from the gaping hole that once used to be the far wall and window. It now consisted of tape and plastic that promised renovation. He turned his eyes away from the reminder of that disaster, numbly walking over to his bedroom. Letting his fingers swim through the satin sheets as he slipped into bed, he did not recognize himself in the mirror. Instead, he imagined that he could still see the reflection of her cream colored skin tangled in the sheets, swirled, warm, next to him. Not Pietro. Not Pietro.

They made love.

It echoed in his ears, a sharp pain piercing his chest, driving him into a fetal position. No no no. Jealousy.

Remy flung his appendages out, releasing a feral yell to try to ease the pressure of the pain that he felt, but it was futile. It was wrong. Everything was so wrong. How did it go so wrong?

He could not cry. He would not even if he could, but he writhed on the bed, wanting so much for her body to be next to his. Just one more time. No, he would not be satisfied with that. He wanted her always. Merde, he was such a fool. How could he let himself fall in love again? He had not meant to. He never wanted to. He fucked up at his own game, and now he was suffering, much like he suffered once before.

Belladonna.

Rogue.

"Damnit, let m' be!" He howled towards his reflection. "I nev' wanted dis. I nev' wanted dis! Dieu, I can' do dis again!" But who was he to blame but himself? He lost her. No, he gave her away, handed her to his rival. And Pietro welcomed her, possessed her, ravishedher. Made her his own. Remy squeezed his eyes shut against the images that his mind created. He hated it. It should have been him, not Pietro. It could have been. But he said no.

And what was worse – he could not be angry with Pietro for it. The boy was better for her. It was better this way. Remy should suffer anyway. And he would make sure he would suffer – a sort of atonement for his 'crimes.'

He fished out her scarf from his pocket and draped it over his face, turning everything into a shade of green. Taking in a torturous sigh, he breathed in her scent, remembered her taste, the feel of her skin. He saw the vivid green of her eyes, wet with tears, and a sharp pang echoed in his chest.

"Merde, I miss y', Rogue." He choked on the pain and jealousy that rose like bile in his throat, trying to swallow the emotions. But instead, they stuck, forming a painful little ball. "Chere, 'm sorry. So sorry. I love y', chere. Rogue, je t'aime."

Tears formed in his increasingly stony stare, but they did not fall. Never did. He would never let them.

Rogue watched the ground as she walked in an attempt to be fascinated by the way her sneakers pressed against the pavement, how folds in her jeans appeared and disappeared with the movement of her legs, how her clothes rustled – all in an attempt at distraction. Her footsteps were unechoed by an accompanying stride. She had left the school without waiting for Pietro.

She had furiously dried her eyes not long after the cajun was out of sight – she had given him enough of her tears already – but everything she felt as a result of the encounter left her restless. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Life seemed reluctant to give her any breaks. For heaven's sake, she had just recently managed to bring herself to go back to school!

Lifting her chin, she glared balefully at the cloudless sky. It should be raining – to match her mood. Something to make her feel that much more miserable. She was sick of this. It was so frustrating that she wanted to torture herself, maybe physically, to get some kind of release. But no, the sun shone bright and warm – no risk of getting the flu. She allowed her lips to curl up into a self- deprecating smirk. Sad, her life.

She shook her head. Why couldn't he have just left her alone? Wasn't it enough that he had already broken her once?

No. He knew he could take her, renew the game, and break her again. He knew as well as she did that she was still vulnerable to his charm. She wasn't over him after all.

And now she had his taste to remember him by. He was as good a kisser as she had always dreamed he would be. No – better.

Clenching her fists, she spat at the ground, scrubbing her lips with the back of her hand – roughly, to erase the memory of the kiss. He would never have her again, she vowed. Never again.

Pietro shifted his weight anxiously, standing where a pile of Rogue's belongings lay deserted in the grass. "Rogue...?" He scanned the area, confused. She wouldn't have abandoned her things, wouldn't have left him when she had told him she'd stay – would she? Suddenly, his ears perked up to rapidly approaching footsteps and he spun around early enough to catch Rogue in his arms.

"Aww, you an' yer reflexes..." she breathed, beaming brightly up at him. Good, she had returned in time. Leaning up, she pressed her lips firmly against his in a fairly passionate kiss, leaving him blinking at her in surprise. She gave him a smirk. "What? Can't Ah give mah man a kiss?"

Recovering quickly, Pietro grinned wryly down at her, though he still felt confused. "You can kiss me anytime, babe. You just gotta give me time for air 'cause you take my breath away."

Snickering, Rogue gave him another smooch before breaking away to gather her things. "Ah see ya survived. An' ta think Ah had mah heart set on gettin' yer stereo."

"But it's busted."

"Nothin' Lance couldn' fix."

"Yeah, but would he?" Pietro chuckled as he just looked at her for a moment. Something was off. As much as he enjoyed that kiss – he knew Rogue better than that. He sighed, pursing his lips. As much as he enjoyed that kiss, he couldn't let it be. "Hey Roguey..."

"Hey Petie," responded Rogue, teasingly. "What's up?" Her head remained bowed as she continued gathering her belongings. "Hey, ya gonna help meh or what?"

He immediately zipped over, crouching down by her to take up several of her books. "Rogue," he repeated, insistently.

Frowning, Rogue finally lifted her gaze to peer at him quizzically. "What?' For a moment he just looked at her carefully. "What?" repeated Rogue, getting annoyed. "What's wrong?"

"You tell me."

"What are ya talkin' about?" Yet her lips twitched slightly, revealing only momentarily a guilty expression that flit across her face. Pietro didn't miss it.

With a sigh, he put her books down and reached forward to take her face in his hands. "C'mon, Rogue. You know I know you better than that. You're not acting like yourself." He traced his thumb lightly over her cheekbone, smiling reassuringly. "Let me in, Rogue. Stop lying to me."

She looked at him silently for a bit before she lowered her gaze, pulling away. "He kissed me." She didn't have to say who. Suddenly she felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. She felt nervous, as if she was guilty of infidelity, and she couldn't bring herself to lift her eyes to her boyfriend.

Pietro sat back on his heels, feeling unsurprised. Just like Gambit to try to play his game again when the challenge was greater. Especially since he still had a chance, even as minuscule as it was. A surge of hatred pushed at his ribs from within – and jealousy. Suddenly, he had to see if Rogue still wanted him, and not Gambit. Without a word, he reached forward to tip Rogue's chin up. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he leaned forward and kissed her, softly, slowly until she started responding. He held the kiss firmly, passionately, but it wasn't until she lifted her hand to cup the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his silvery strands, that he felt reassured. Somewhat. When he pulled back from the kiss, they were both breathless. Pietro smirked at her. "You really do take my breath away, Roguey." Do you take his away too?

Rogue blushed, her anxiety quelled for the most part. "Ah love ya, Pietro." After a moment, she continued. "An' don' forget it neither."

You love Gambit too, don't you? Maybe more than you love me. "I love you too, Rogue."

He wondered when it would stop hurting. None too soon, with his luck, though he did, after all, just find out yesterday what happened between Rogue and Pietro.

Sitting at the back of the classroom, Remy enjoyed relative solitude from the rest of the class, left to his brooding with little interruption. Not that anybody would dare disturb him, now that his devil eyes went unmasked. He had caught his classmates by surprise, the first day he walked in with his image inducer turned off. Out of habit, they initially drew close to him – to reap the benefits of hanging out with the cool bad-ass of the school – but the closer they came, the more horrified were their expressions, and they fled. It brought back memories of his childhood, of a time before such gadgets like an image inducer existed. It was so lonely, his childhood, especially since it was a time when he needed companionship. He needed to be held, to be touched, to belong. But everyone ran away from him.

Sure, he soon discovered the benefits of wearing sunglasses to hide his demonic gaze, but wearing them at night brought another form of scorn: mockery. "Ain' y' got sense, boy? Y' don' wear yo' sunglasses at night." "Look at de freak, 'e t'inks he's settin' a trend." "Wha' kinda loser are y' t' be wearin' yo shades in de dark?" The words stung, and while they no longer ran away in terror, they still wouldn't come close to him. They wouldn't be his friend. Of course, that all changed when Jean-Luc took him in. Who dared insult the Prince of Thieves? Though, it wasn't like becoming part of the guild family didn't have its drawbacks.

Belladonna.

He had to release his pen when he found his power surging into his fingertips, almost charging the writing utensil unintentionally. Flexing his fingers, he let his frustration escape through a strained sigh, almost growl. He should have learned from that experience. Love isn't all candy and roses – it comes with its share of shit too. Love isn't worth the pain. Especially when it involved a whole family of trained assassins. He smirked.

Remy lifted his gaze, his eyes boring into Rogue's form. He wondered if he regretted ever meeting her. It was her fault, after all. Her fault that he ended falling in love again so soon. And fallen much harder than he had ever fallen in love before, even for Belle. It wasn't fair. He had a nice system set up of loving and leaving – he never felt heartache nor did he ever feel lonely. At least physically. But then Rogue – she just had to show him the depth of emotions that he was missing, the depth of feeling that one-night stands could never give him, the true love that was separate from lust – Belle couldn't even show him that.

How could he go back to the player he once was – now that it would no longer be enough?

"Goddamnit," swore Principal Kelly, pressing his fingers into his temples at the growing migraine. "I should have been electedWhy the hell did the board hire him?" He trailed off, leaning his elbows heavily on his desk as he raked his fingers through his hair. A week or so ago, he had lost the bid for the superintendent position, much to his complete and utter surprise. It drove him crazy to think that he was defeated, and it didn't help that the new superintendent had been monitoring his school so closely, and critically, that the teachers were driven to their wit's end. Given, his mere presence unnerved them all so much that they jumped to keep their class perfectly in line and to standard, but it was Kelly who had the experience. "He must have bribed the Chairman, the rich bastard. I'm definitely more qualified than a fresh-out-of-college biology teacher."

"Oh, I assure you I've been out of college longer than that, Principal Kelly."

Jolting upright, Kelly couldn't prevent his face from reddening as he looked up into the smirking face of his new boss. "Ah..." He got to his feet, poorly disguising his quivering rage. "Superintendent Essex, I didn't hear you come in."

Don't get your hopes up, I'm not completely back. I had to revise these last few chapters before I even tried to continue. I like how it is a lot better now.

So... school is still taking up my time, as is my job. But hey, I'm still alive. :)

- Rielyn