Woo, Welcome to Rogueneto Week!
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From One Book To Another:
Chapter One: Touch
Good Lord, Rogue was having a day!
It was a little past six thirty PM and she'd just returned to her bedroom, needing to be alone. She didn't want to talk to anyone or see anyone. She just wanted silence.
Changing into pajamas, a simple green slip she found comfortable to sleep in, she stood in front of her sink, staring blankly into the mirror, as she brushed her teeth. The longer she stared at her reflection, the more foreign her own image became. She blinked, having to remind herself she was looking at herself and not a stranger.
She spit, attempting to stave off the sense of dissociation and return to the present. Her efforts were in vain; lightheadedness had her and yet her mind felt heavy at the same time. A disorienting mixture she couldn't shake as she rinsed out her mouth, spitting a few more times in the sink as she tried to wash the day away like a bad taste in her mouth.
Today, earlier, Scott and the Cuckoo's had asked for her help. The request seemed easy enough. They just needed to offload a portion of each of the Cuckoo's powers into her for safekeeping as they searched for the Phoenix Force. Only for her to promptly fail at that safekeeping; broadcasting memories, her intimate memories of her and Remy's past to every sentient being on Utopia.
'And what a spectacular that was. All that desire and longing. Such bittersweet emotions on display for all to see. You've no idea how far your thoughts were broadcasted, do you? Forget Utopia! You'll have to steer clear of the whole of San Francisco while you're at it.'
She practically threw her toothbrush back into its holder.
And then to make matters worse, Rogue, determined to go about her day, despite the extra powers at her disposal, had fallen into an unfortunate Psychic Feedback Loop, locking lips with a certain Master of Magnetism for far too long, before he thankfully realized what was happening and put a stop to it.
'A shame you two are always interrupted just when things get interesting.'
She stared into her own eyes, agreeing with the thought wholeheartedly. Thinking back, she wondered how different things would be if Kazan hadn't interrupted them the first time they almost acted upon their mutual attraction.
This was before she ever met Remy. What if she and Magnus had gotten and stayed together way back when? What if she'd never had to endure the trials and tribulations of her and Remy's relationship? They had been through so much together. So much heartache, heartbreak and history; half of it rotten. Every happy memory had an unpleasant counterpart of equal measure. One had to wonder if it was all worth it.
While the flame between her and Magnus has never been ignited, not really.
'And you wouldn't have stopped today, if Magneto hadn't taken the blame for the Loop and forced you both to cease. What do you think that says about you and how easily you fall into the raptures of pleasure?'
'That I have zero self-control,' Rogue thought bitterly as turned to exit the bathroom, getting as far as the doorframe, needing to get away from her own image.
And hadn't she said the same thing to Remy? That she associated him with loss of control? Was that just how she viewed touch? As relinquishing control and giving in to-
'Perhaps giving in is exactly what you should do.'
She shook her head. Even if Magnus came knocking at her door, she wouldn't permit him to enter. Not right then- no, not tonight.
'It was foolish to assume that might work twice.'
"Huh?" she asked herself as she-
No, she didn't have access to telepathy currently. She didn't think she could bear to hear anyone else's thoughts. She could barely handle her own negativity, digging in, being so judgmental of herself. She recognized that but-
No, it wasn't like she'd hurt anyone, right?
Embarrassed herself, yes- but- and maybe she'd hurt Remy's feelings. And Magnus- Oh god, she'd given him hope, hadn't she?
A pleasant shiver ran down her spine at that thought.
'You protest too much. I take that as a positive encouragement,' she recalled Magnus's words to her on the X-Jet after he tried to hold her cheek, to caress her face. She'd almost let him.
'Magneto always was your Achilles heel. Such delicious temptation left festering in anguish for years.'
But she loved Remy. There was no denying that.
'The Cajun gives hope for the mundane; that a simple girl might be loved by a simple boy. A storybook wedding, followed by happily ever after.'
She blinked as she realized she was gripping onto the bathroom door, trying to keep herself upright. Her grip faltered and she slipped toward the floor. With white knuckles she caught the door again and pulled herself back to her feet.
Why was she finding it hard to stand? What was-
'How quant… How dull.'
She just needed to sit, right? That would help. The bed, she just needed to get to the bed.
'Magneto affections are the promise of a man who would elevate you. Make you greater than what's perceived.'
She stumbled forward and got to the edge of the bed.
'Magnus knows what lives in your heart, Rogue, just as well as I do.'
God lord, why was her head so heavy? Why was she-
She rested her forehead in her hands, as she sat on the corner of the bed.
What had she just been thinking about?
Rogue shook her head, trying to shake off this feeling as she briefly considered going back to the Cuckoo's. Maybe-
'Oh, yes, traverse through the streets of Utopia again. Give them all another chance to gawk at you.'
Okay, no, bad idea. She was full of those today. Maybe staying in the present and lingering on the past weren't the best ways to deal with her stress. Maybe some good old escapism would help?
She stood, she-
She glanced down at her knees, unclear why they were shaking. She willed them to still and they obeyed. Finally, she walked over to the little collection of books she had stacked on top of her dresser and surveyed her options. It contained a couple of books she'd been meaning to read in between crises; Jane Eyre and Anna Karenina.
'What an array of romance novels. It reeks of desperation. How you must love drama.'
Rogue rolled her eyes at her own intrusive thought before heading to the bed empty handed, crawling under the covers. She leaned against the pillow, ready to bury her head in the sand out of sheer embarrassment. The somewhat aroused state she was in only compounding her discomfort.
'You don't seem too bothered by it.'
She let out a frustrated grunt as she turned over, grabbing the body pillow and hugging it to her body, slipping it between her legs, applying a little bit of pressure. Not that that alone would grant her release…
'If only you weren't alone.'
No, that was by choice. She wasn't in the right state of mind for company. Sure, she had her skin under wraps- a welcomed change of pace after a decade of heartache and broken promises. However, with the freedom of action came the burden of choice. And there were two men in particular vying for her affection, longing for her touch.
'Only two?'
Sure, she'd had other suitors over the years. But no one else came back to her again and again like Remy and Magnus did, right?
Maybe if she just kept to herself for a few days, a week at most, the next drama would play out and attention would be diverted away from her little love-triangle. Then she could think clearly without feeling like she was being watched.
Even now, laying alone in her room, it still felt like eyes were on her, leering invasively at her for their own amusement.
'Paranoia doesn't serve you, my darling.'
Rogue felt her limbs go limp against the mattress, a sudden exhaustion hitting her, making her body feel heavy and sluggish.
'I'm just being paranoid, right?' Rogue asked, a groan escaping her in response to her fatigued state.
'The Cuckoo's powers are to blame. They drained you! Thank heaven you've returned them. You won't want access to telepathy for some time, will you?'
"Probably not," she muttered wearily.
'Sleep should help.'
Some sleep would do her good. A little R and R would help her recover from the day's events and make sense of what or rather who she wanted.
'It most certainly will.'
As Rogue's eyes fluttered closed, she could have sworn she felt fingers on her forehead, before it brushed her hair back and away from her face. It was the lightest of touches. So reminiscent of Remy's or Magnus's hand against her face.
So, soft, so… the finger gave way to a nail? Was that a nail or a claw running down her cheek? Why was it so sharp?
'Pleasant dreams, my pet.'