Burning For You
Home in the valley, home in the city. Home isn't pretty, ain't no home for me. Home in the darkness, home on the highway. Home isn't my way, home will never be. Burn out the day, Burn out the day. Burn out the night, Burn out tonight. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You-Shiny Toy Guns
August 2006.
He's an outrageous flirt. Cocky, obnoxious, and a thief to boot. That little smirk he flashes oh-so often is obviously a sign of danger. His hypnotic, fiery eyes are always chock full of mirth, but he never cares to explain what is so funny all the damn time. And to top it all of: he's known as the mansion's raging slut. Everyone witnesses him stumble in each night with a different girl on his arm. They all hear said girls' exclamations of ecstasy, further cementing the rumors that Remy LeBeau knows how to work every centimeter of a woman's body.
So why is she here?
Why did she drop six hundred bucks on this dress a day after he asked her out? Sure, the dress is amazing. It's damn amazing, actually. Steamy sexy. She'd somehow managed to find something that fit her like a glove (no pun intended) bares her cleavage, and that covers her deadly skin, all at the same time. At least she can use this dress again, though. That's a decent excuse.
But spending three hours on getting her hair to curl just right is completely ridiculous! And re-doing her make up seventeen times is even worse! But she supposes it's worth it. She looks good, real good, the swamp rat hasn't been able to take his eyes off her the entire night. And that's saying something for a man who checks out literally every woman that passes by in normal circumstances.
Of course, he isn't looking too shabby himself. When isn't he looking hot as Hell though? All the man has to do is roll out of bed and it was enough to make any woman cry- she however, isn't just any woman.
So what if he's slicked his hair back, giving him the look of a character from a romance novel? And did he think it sexy to leave the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone? Cause it isn't, no sir.
In fact, the more she studies him, the more she wonders what the big deal is. There were plenty of men like Remy: who had the body of a God, the face of a model, the absorbing, spellbinding voice of a jazz singer, and seducing, demonic orbs of red and black. Lots of men have eyes like his.
She tosses back another shot, wondering how he can afford renting out a private room in a restaurant like this. He probably stole it! Yeah, that's it, he stole an entire room…
She's drank too much, she's flirting too much. Dear Lord, she has her arm draped over his shoulder, hanging onto his every word. When had he scooted his chair next to hers? She's practically sitting in his lap! His hand rests—almost possessively-on the small of her back, he is in leaning dangerously close-
"Ah'm not stupid," she slurs, interrupting whatever he was saying.
He raises an eyebrow. "Never said y' were-"
She nearly falls over when she attempts to stand, and Remy, conveniently ignoring her chair, places her on his leg instead.
"Ya didn't need to say anything, shuga. It's what ya do."
He can't help but laugh at her rosy cheeks and the grin she gives him as she 'sneaks' and finishes off his glass. Never has he seen the mansion's resident ice queen so…warm.
"For someone who's not legal yet, y' sure know how to take 'em back, chère ."
She waves him off. "Ah knew from the moment ya stepped through the door just what kinda man ya were."
"Oh?" He rests his chin on his fist in mock seriousness. "An' what kind of man is dat?"
"A player. Not just cause yoah a whore either, but because ya treat everythin' in life as a game, includin' this date. Ah'm a challenge to ya. Just like all the danger room sessions you've set records for, just like all the poker games ya manage to win."
Remy mulls over what she says, he obviously wasn't expecting anything remotely close to that coming from her, and she feels joy in knowing she finally caught Gambit off guard. He looks a little ashamed, even. But she isn't done.
"The flirtin', the roses, the candy, the moon-lit serenades from under my balcony- Ah knew the whole time what ya were tryin' to do."
He frowns deeply. He's worked his ass off trying to woo the belle. For months he's been practically begging her to go out with him. Months. Remy LeBeau never spent months on a woman! But then again, Rogue is unlike any woman he's ever met. Getting her to like him had been all fun and games in the beginning, so why is he so deeply disappointed now? And why does he look forward to the scowls she sends his way, or laugh inwardly with glee every time they get into one of their little quarrels? Why does he seethe with jealousy whenever she and that Russian boyfriend of hers go out? If he's completely honest with himself: it smarts a little to know she doesn't take any of it seriously. The joke has been on him the entire time.
"What y' t'ink I was tryin' to do?"
"What ya are tryin' to do," she corrects. "Yoah tryin' to win my heart of course, among the many ya already have."
If it hurts to know her true opinion of him he doesn't let it show.
And for another time their eyes connect. Again he licks his lips, again she feels herself sway.
"Maybe it would be a good idea to let ya kiss me," she murmurs. "A couple months in a coma would simmer ya down."
Remy leans closer. They're mere breaths apart and he shows no signs of fear.
His hands fall to her narrow waist. "Rogue-"
She pulls away from his dizzying spell and retreats to the other side of the table. This will never do! He's a snake, slithering under the walls she's built, and he's going to cause them both a world of hurt.
She'd been foolish to think she could keep the situation under control. There's a definite attraction between herself and Remy, and it gets even more tangible the longer they're in each other's presence. Which is why she should go… now.
She's going to call a cab and go home and sleep this off. She'll be able to think more clearly in the morning and then she can assess the situation for what it really is: Remy is trying to play her, and she isn't going to allow that to happen.
"Please, don' go yet. Hear me out, hein?"
Yet again, his voice works its magic and she feels herself being lowered onto the chair.
He stands above her, drumming his fingers against his leg. He starts to pace from side to side, unable to stand still. Is the ragin' cajun nervous?
"Everyt'ing y' said was true, well, at least it was at first. But I've been t'inkin' a lot lately, an'…dere's not a reason why we couldn't, y' know, 'make it official'."
"Remy-"
"Non, let me finish. We have a good time together, we make each other laugh all de time. An' honestly, I'm tired of sleepin' around. It'd be nice to, to have someone waitin' for me when I come home at night, y' know?"
He finally looks at her and the brief flash of vulnerability she sees makes her sigh.
"Remy Ah'm sorry, but Ah can't be that person. We barley have a healthy friendship, we can't stand each other for more than five minutes-"
"Y' wrong, chère." He squares his shoulders determinedly. "Y' so wrong. I know it wouldn't be easy, mais we could make it work! If I changed an' y' learned to trust-"
This makes her angry. "So Ah'm supposed to trust you? The alcoholic one, the one who sleeps around, the one who gives me at least ten reasons why Ah shouldn't trust him every day?"
She turns her bleary gaze to the floor.
"Ah don't love Piotr, anyone can see that. But it's uncomplicated, Remy. He doesn't ask for anythin' Ah can't give, we have a lot in common so we never argue, and he's-he's-" She shrugs, grasping for the right word. "He's…simple. Ah can figure him out easily and Ah never have to worry that there's somethin' he's hidin', because he's not."
His eyes flash angrily. "So basically y' sayin' y' a coward, an' you'd rather settle for less because it's uncomplicated." He snorts, "maybe y' not de femme I thought y' were."
She lowers her head to her hands. "-too many-"
Her voice is too thick for him to understand.
"I can't hear y'."
She brings her head up, her emerald eyes are glossy with tears. "Ah've been hurt too many times. Ah can't-Ah can't be hurt again."
The anger on his face is instantly replaced with a pleading look, and he kneels next to her.
"Have y' ever thought dat maybe you'd hurt me? Dat maybe I'd be de one who gave everythin' an' got nothin' back? Mais chère it doesn't have to be dat way!"
She looks at him then. How wonderful it'd be, if life were so simple. If maybe she and Remy could make something out of nothing.
"Ah could go on and on about why we shouldn't be together, but Ah'm drunk and tired and Ah wanna go home."
He takes her delicate hand in his worn one, unwilling to let this subject go quite so soon.
"Have y' ever thought about it maybe workin' out? Have y' ever wanted to be wit me, chère ? Ever?"
"No." Liar, liar pants on fire.
He searches her eyes, and finding nothing but pity in them, swallows his desire and hope and arguments.
"Fine. I'll drop dis, for now."
"Drop it forever," she urges. "Don't bring it up again, Remy. My answer will always be the same."
He hides the pain this causes, and forces a smile. "Dats exactly what y' said when I asked y' out de first time, non?"
Frowning, he turns to look behind them, out on the patio.
"What's wrong?"
His eyes remained focused on the same spot, she turns to look but sees nothing.
"Y' hear dat?" He smiles wistfully. "S' a violin."
The belle strains her ears and soon she hears the enchanting melody as well.
"Y' wouldn't wan' to dance, would y'?"
His face is so open and hopeful. She knows she should say no, it'd be better to nip this in the bud and not give him any more encouragement- but it's of no use.
"Ah'd love to. But keep ya hands to yourself," she warns.
"Sure, chère ," he chuckles and offers his hand. "Whatever y' say."
Grinning broadly, he leads her to the middle of the empty room and holds her tight. She uses him for support, and soon feels his lips in her hair. His warm breath hits her ear, and to her surprise, he neglects to make some remark about the shiver this causes.
Is it normal to feel this way about someone she so loathed? They will never work, never. Why get the ball rolling when it would only spin out of control in the end?
"Relax," he murmurs when he feels her stiffen. "I'll take care of y', Rogue, je promets."
"Ah can take care of myself," her chin juts out stubbornly.
"I know p'tite, mais it's nice to let someone protect y' once in a while, non?"
Her eyes flutter shut. He's too warm, too strong, too aware of how his words affect her. Because yes, she would like to be weak sometimes, she would like for him to shield her.
They look at each other in the dim light. Some emotion they can't explain envelopes them in undisturbed silence.
I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. Time is the essence, time is the season. Time ain't no reason, got no time to slow. Time everlasting, time to play besides. Time ain't on my side, time I'll never know. Burn out the day, burn out the day. Burn out the night, burn out tonight. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You- Shiny Toy Guns
They look at each other in the dim light. Some emotion they can't explain envelopes them in undisturbed silence.
Maybe it's apprehension, or fear, or hatred. Maybe it's the rage that overcomes him whenever he looks into those saffron eyes.
They should be green. A beautiful, crystal green that shone a dark emerald when she's angry or passionate, and that lightened to a jade color when she laughs.
That wasn't the woman he'd found laying next to him this morning. Somewhere in the night, he lost his Chère for yet another time, and the tiny bit of patience he's had with the thing inside of her has long since dried up.
She watches him from the chair. Her legs are crossed over the armrest. She curls a lock of hair and that mocking smirk she so favors is in place. Everything about her screams cruelty and malice.
He stands on the other side of the dingy room, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and his crimson orbs glowing dangerously. He's a somewhat patient man, but when it comes to someone harming Rogue he has no sympathy. Phoenix has worn out her welcome hundreds of times over, and he's getting close to his limit. He doesn't want things to reach a level of violence, especially since it's still Rogue's body, but she isn't giving him many other options.
"I'm takin' her back. Today."
She chuckles delightedly. "Is that right? I'm interested to see how you'll be pulling that off, seeing that I'm in control and all."
He leaves his spot against the wall and bends so he's directly in her face. "Lemme explain it for y'-" His hands go to each of her shoulders. "You're gonna give Rogue her body back, and I'm gonna take her home. De professeur is going enter her mind, an' you're gonna disappear forever. Comprenez?"
This makes her laugh even harder and she pats his cheek daintily. "Come on, Remy-poo. We both know you're smarter than that! I'm the most powerful being in this galaxy! Charles Xavier is incredibly powerful, but he's no threat to me by himself. And since both Jean Grey and Betsy Braddock are out of the picture, quite frankly, I can do whatever the Hell I want."
"Rogue will fight back, she won't let y' keep control forever. An' when you're weakened enough-"
"Then what? If you kill me you kill her, and you're too much of a weakling to ever even consider killing her."
This hits him hard and he backs up to sit on the bed. "Deres gotta be another way!" he shakes his head. "She won't die, she won'!"
She leaves the chair and levitates in front of him. "Of course she won't. You and I won't let her." She runs her fingers through his locks and lowers herself next to him.
"I almost killed you, and everyone in that house, you know."
He turns to her with a sneer. "An' why didn't y'?"
"Because she would have never forgiven me." She says simply.
He examines her closely, things start sliding into place. "You're, you're in love wit her!" he gasps in shock.
She nods and crosses her legs. "I suppose that's what humans would call this emotion I feel." The small amount of light that leaks through the blinds reflects in her eyes.
"I've tried to calculate exactly when my feelings about her changed. At first, she was just another vessel, and to me, 'love' was just a combination of physical attraction caused by compatible hormones and pheromones. But then-
"Then you showed up. It was when I first entered her and she slept a long time, do you remember?"
He swallows back the fear of those horrible three days. "How could I forget?"
"You were talking to her, like she could hear you. It amused me to see the forlorn look on your face. But somehow, the effect of your voice was reviving her. I started listening to what you were saying. You spoke of heart break and pain and guilt, and love. Even I could see how much you loved this woman. It interested me.
"And so I decided to delve into her memories. What I found was, well, there aren't really words to describe it. I could see why you loved her, she'd been through so much, things you don't even know about, and through it all, there still remains an undisturbed part of her. A purity, if you will."
She chuckles. "I tried to remain detached, but it was of no use. Soon I began communicating with her psyche and I…well, I fell in love with her. I knew I couldn't just destroy her, so instead, I opted to share this body with her.
"I began changing the landscape of her mind. I released the personalities of her psyches, enabling her to be able to use their gifts as she pleased without them driving her insane. I'm still correcting the years of damage to her psyche. I will not deny that at times, the thrill of human emotion and sensation causes me to control against her will, at intervals. For the first time since creation…"Her gilded eyes go far away, "I know more than destruction. I know what it is to feel love; to feel…passion. To worry about the outcome of another.
I reconstructed the way she thought, so she could feel the touch of another human being. I've fused our minds together, so now she will have my powers, my immortality. She'll live forever."
A sudden excitement comes over her and she clasps his arm. "Don't you see? We'll never have to worry about her dying of old age, or disease, or injury! She'll remain young and beautiful for all time. And if she so chooses, I'll make you young forever, too. I tried persuading her to forget about you, but she cares for you deeply. Whatever she wants, she will get. I only want her to be happy."
He doesn't respond right away, he tries absorbing everything she's told him instead. He knows that this will never last. Phoenix is made to destroy; to take.
Finally, he looks at her.
"I t'ink y' know deep down inside dat what you're doin' is wrong. Rogue deserves a normal human life, she deserves to have a choice. She doesn't want y', Phoenix-"
Fury sparks in her eyes and before he can react he's flattened on the bed, invisible grips holding him down.
"The only reason I let you live is because of her! But do not test my limits, human." She crawls from the end of the bed and straddles his hips. "Do you realize that everything you just accused me of, you are guilty of as well?"
He fights against the hold until sweat breaks across his body and his muscles throb. He shrinks away from her kiss, but he has no choice in the matter.
Truth rings loud and clear in what she says. He's just as bad for Rogue as she is.
He chooses to ignore this. It isn't the same, not even remotely so!
She forces her tongue through his teeth.
His initial reaction is quite apparent and she feels him in between her legs, hard and warm like a fist.
She pulls him back by the hair, exposing more of his mouth and neck. "Take me, you know you want to."
"You're not de one I-"
She slaps him harshly, his cheek begins to bruise instantly. "Fool!"
Her hand moves to strike again, but his skin glows fuchsia and she hesitates.
"I'll blow us both up."
She snorts. "Go right ahead. I'll survive."
"True, mais I won', an' you'll get to see de hatred in Rogue's eyes every time she looks at y'."
This gets a reaction out of her, and with a furious scream she dismounts him and releases her telekinetic hold.
He sighs with relief and sits up. He rubs his cheek and flexes his jaw.
"You're no good for her."
"Either are you."
"If y' really love her, you'll leave."
"Shall I remind you that you're still around?"
He's tired of the games, and not for the first time, he loses his cool and lets his temper loose. "Just let her go!"
She remains collected, and with a bitter smirk, ends the argument. "I will when you do, Remy LeBeau."
December 2009.
They've just returned from another run-in with Phoenix, bruised and forlorn.
He and Rogue find each other in the den after showering and changing their clothes. She curls into a ball on the couch, the fireplace sends shadows across the walls.
The snow and wind seem to smack against the windows. The crackling fire reflects in her hauntingly beautiful eyes.
"Why y' do so much for her? Y' an' Jeannie have never been very close." There is suspicion in his voice, Rogue can see he feels guilty for that.
"Ah owe Jean so much more than ya could ever know, Remy." She rests her chin on her knees and looks him in the eyes, trying to make him understand.
But he doesn't want to. Because this has something to do with Scott, doesn't it always?
"Chère , I know I've asked y' before…" He licks his lips nervously and silently pleads for patience. "Mais y' sure, y' an' Scott-you've never been more den friends, right?"
"He's like my big brother." She has to force the lies from her mouth.
He nods, slightly relieved. He makes himself believe that yes, Rogue would risk her own life a second time for Jean because Scott was a close friend. Rogue would never lie to him. Rogue is pure, honest.
Rogue is perfect.
"I just, I just don' wanna lose y'."
Tears form somewhere deep down but she keeps them at bay. "Ah have her heart," Is the only explanation she gives him.
He won't understand this until much later.
Present Day.
She begins packing the suitcase as soon as she comes to, sensing subconsciously that something has happened. He hasn't moved from his place on the bed, he's too drained. Not from the struggle with Phoenix, or from the bruises on his face, but from the entire situation. He knows he has to be strong, he realizes that he can't just give up, he's noticed that she's been peeking at him every so often, noticing the wounds on him but waiting for him to speak.
Everything seems so hopeless! How can the X-men fight her off? They hadn't been able to protect Jean from Phoenix, and Rogue won't be any different.
Should he just give in? Should he try to make a life with Rogue around the being? After all, don't they have everything they've always wanted in the relationship? They can touch now, he won't have to go to other women for comfort. She can trust him now, completely trust him. They have the promise of a future.
They can marry, they can have lots of babies. And if Phoenix stays true to her word, they can love each other for all eternity.
He isn't even convincing himself with all this. He can't, won't share Rogue with that thing. He won't let her live life through Rogue's body.
And in that moment Remy knows what he has to do.
"Rogue—" his voice breaks, he tries again. "Rogue, mon amour. Let's spend our last day in splendor, oui? How does that sound?"
She gives him a shaky smile. "Last day outta the mansion maybe." She notes his pained expression. "S'not like we're never gonna see each other again."
Remy stands and takes her in his arms. Memorizing her scent and feel, her very presence.
He takes her to a movie, the first real date they've had in ages. The conversation never stops. His hand never leaves her. She can't help but feel like he's telling her goodbye in every word and gesture.
He takes her to a restaurant on the corner, near their hotel room. Phoenix's dark aura buzzes against her conscious; she does all she can to hold on to herself. An irrational feling that if she loses control she'll never see her lover again hassles her.
…
It's obvious when they return to the hotel that Rogue isn't there anymore, and he ceases his forced pleasant chatter. Even without the switch to golden eyes, it isn't difficult for him to decipher the transfer.
"What are y' doin'?" Can't they even have these last hours together?
She brushes her hair back. "I sensed a telepathic scan about an hour ago. Xavier must have been using Cerebro when we had our little disagreement. I think he sensed the spike of your powers."
He shuffles a deck of cards lazily; interest sapped now that she's the one in front of him. "If y' so strong an' mighty, why y' runnin' from dem?"
She chooses to ignore his question and stands. "We musn't dally. Are you coming or not?"
The Queen of Hearts slips from the deck and flutters to the ground. He picks it up and traces its outline with his eyes. Memories flood his mind. Too many memories.
"Non. I'm catchin' a bus, an' you're stayin' right here."
Her eyes widen before she can compose herself. "Do not feign bravery. There is no honor within you."
"Remy don 'bluff' when it comes to his chère ." He begins shoving things in the bag by his feet.
"You're not going to leave her, you can't."
He stands to his full height and looks down at her. "Close your eyes."
She grabs onto the lapels of his jacket. Is that green he sees beginning to form in her irises?
"Remy, listen to me, we can share her. Don't be simple-minded. You don't have to do something this drastic! If you leave she'll be mad at me, so very mad. I'll have to leave, I don't want to leave, I love her!"
It's as if Phoenix, being a fledgling of a human, has reverted to a childlike state.
"An' y' t'ink dis is easy for me?!" He bites back his anger and resolves the decision in his mind. "Now close your eyes. Y' not Rogue, mais dis is probably de best I'm gonna get." He doesn't want her to see this. He can't watch the tears she will shed, the helpless, betrayed look that will form in her eyes. He won't be strong enough if she begs him to stay, he knows it, and so maybe having Phoenix in control now is a blessing.
And most of all, he doesn't want her to watch as his heart shatters into a million pieces. At least this way, she will think he'd just up and left out of sheer cowardice. The anger would keep her going, she could ignore missing him if she was too busy hating him.
He swallows his tears and with a little whimper of fear, Phoenix shuts her eyes.
He places a hand on her hip, and encircles her shoulders with his other arm.
"I love y', chère . So much. I should have done dis a long time ago, even though neither one of us wanted it."
He shakes his head and kisses her porcelain forehead. "I don' deserve you're love, never did. I knew dat from de beginnin', mais I'm selfish, chère . All I knew was dat y' made me happy, y' filled me up wit so much joy. It was like we were in our own little bubble, an' all de bad shit happenin' went right around us.
"I don' wanna leave, chère ." His voice breaks and he trembles with the effort of keeping his emotions in check, he won't cry in front of her, Phoenix, ever again.
"Mais she says she'll leave y' alone if I do. Y' can touch now, chère . Y' can have a happy life-" He can't speak anymore and so he pours his feelings into the kiss. It isn't Rogue exactly, but he's used to pretending.
He pours his heart into the kiss, and when it ends his hands tremble.
He releases his hold on her and faces the door.
"Y' gave me y' word."
Her only response is to fall to her knees and weep.
He leaves and does not look back.
Rogue is furious when it emerges from the river. She's ready to scream at it, hit it, but then she sees its face.
Her golden eyes are wide and full of supernatural glow. Her face is blanched white from excitement.
A kind of premonition creeps up Rogue's spine. "What is it? What happened?"
It doesn't answer. Right before her eyes, it begins to lose shape and revert back to the ball of black mass it had once been.
Rogue is frenzied now. "What are ya doin'? Answer me!"
It floats closer, brushing against her cheek, images fill the space around her-she ignores them. Before she can even turn to it, it releases a wail and leaves her mind.
The force of it is so powerful it knocks her to the ground. She can feel the emptiness.
Phoenix is really and truly gone.
For some reason, her heart does not leap with joy at this realization. She jumps into the river, fearful of what she might find on the other side.
She can no longer ignore the images Phoenix gave her through that simple kiss on the cheek, and as she hears Remy's words and sees his departure, a low, painful moan escapes between her lips.
That idiot, that stupid, unthinking martyr!
Doesn't he see that she'd choose him over sanity any day? Doesn't he realize that without him, she'll be more insane and lost than Phoenix could ever make her?
She swallows back her hysteria and leaves the hotel room. She's running by the time she reaches the end of the hall.
Remy can't have gotten far, he's probably on his way back right now. He knows they can't live without each other. He knows. He wouldn't leave, he knows leaving her is the same as stabbing a knife through her heart.
She's breathless when she grips the reception desk.
"A man, tall, brown coat, red eyes-where is he?"
The balding man seems startled at the sudden inquisition. "Uh, well he's-he's not here anymore."
"Where did he go?!"
He backs a few feet away. "He, he paid the bill and then left, miss. That was about…" He looks down at the watch on his chunky wrist. "…forty-five minutes ago."
Her face falls and she leans over the counter. She won't let herself lose hope yet. Remy is always doing rash things, he probably wants to move to a different motel, that's all. He'll be back any minute, he won't leave her…
She's running out the revolving doors before the man can even point her in the right direction. She's reminded of the bitter winter as her bare feet slap against the harsh pavement.
But still she runs, until she reaches the nearest bus station. The young woman feels the strings of her heart guiding her to her lover. Her hands and lips have gone blue from the cold; glass shards have imbedded themselves into the soles of her feet.
"Remy!" She yells to his back. She sees him stiffen. He almost turns around, but then seems to change his mind.
He boards the bus.
"No!" She's running again. Her legs and lungs protest but her heart says faster, faster!
The very tips of her fingers reach he back window, the bus pulls away. She manages to keep up with the bus and bang against the window for only a few more seconds before collapsing in a sobbing heap.
She feels the familiar burn of his eyes on her, and she looks up.
His hand rests against the same place hers had been, there are tears in his eyes, too.
She screams his name for half an hour before someone finally comes and leads her to the hospital.
I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning for you. I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. Burn out the day. Burn out the day. Burn out the night. Day, day, night, day, night, day, day, night, tonight. And I'm Burning, I'm Burning, I'm Burning For You. ~Burning For You-Shiny Toy Guns