18 February

Curiosity. -n. 1. the desire to learn or know about anything; inquisitiveness 2. a curious, rare, or novel thing 3. a strange, curious, or interesting quality or feature 4. Archaic.carefulness; fastidiousness

Rogue hovered her hand over Remy's door, poised to knock, but somehow apprehensive. She had no problem approaching him before. She enjoyed her time spent with him and he often times went out of his way to seek her out. She genuinely liked him – and that was becoming the problem. Rogue was letting him close and he was seeping into everything about her life. Even her dreams.

Pulling in a deep breath, she allowed her knuckles to fall, softly tapping the heavy wooden door. The lumber completely ate up the sound. She had time to turn around. She licked her lips and knocked harder, allowing the sound to carry.

"Yo," Remy's voice called from the other side.

"It's Rogue."

"Chere! Come in."

Swallowing her nervousness away, she turned the knob and allowed herself in, quickly shutting the door behind her. Remy lay sprawled out across his bed, watching a show or movie Rogue didn't recognize. It immediately looked outlandish and campy.

Remy's eyes focused on Rogue, a casual half smile across his face. "Comment vas-tu?" he asked lightly.

Rogue looked him up and down, her boiling nerves almost making her too chicken to keep on. He wore very little, only a pair of basketball shorts and well loved tank top covering him while the open curtains revealed a massive roiling blizzard. "Ah wanted some company," she admitted. She wore enough clothes to make contact safe.

Remy immediately patted the bed beside him and scooted over enough to make proper room. "I jus' started dis a li'l while ago. It's like a six hour movie. I can catch you up, non?"

Rogue's mouth went dry. She dipped her chin in a small nod and clambered onto the bed. He held his arm open for her, and despite the wordless screams of anxiety in her head, Rogue accepted. She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest with her arm draped over his stomach.

Remy began explaining what had happened before Rogue joined the movie during the slower parts, taking care to keep from talking over the characters while they were in conversation. To her surprise, despite the definite confirmed extreme camp, Rogue found herself enjoying the movie not too long into it. As the minutes turned into an hour and more, however, Rogue's focus began to break. Her thoughts wandered, eventually cycling back to the dreams she'd had the night before.

They weren't innocent dreams. Her closeness to Remy led to a curiosity her mind needed sated, especially since her body vehemently rejected physical touch. In her dreams, he finally kissed her. He pulled her against him, his hands hot against her skin. When their lips touched, Rogue was surprised to find how soft he kissed. Remy was gentle, guiding, and cordially slow.

The ecstasy of their kiss brought her to his bed, halfheartedly kept straight and tidy. Exactly as it was now beneath them was he watched his movie and Rogue sunk back into her dream. Her skin flushed hot, heat pooling between her legs as the daydream played out.

In her dream, Remy's hand wandered seriously down her sternum, teasingly avoiding her in her most sensitive of areas. He propped himself over her with hardly enough space to trace patterns down her stomach, taking just enough time to elicit impatient whimpers from her throat.

Rogue immediately paused her daydream, suddenly conscious of how much her body responded to the revived dream. She couldn't begin writhing beside him, moaning in unprompted lust. He was a danger to be around, especially so soon after a steamy fantasy. She craned her neck until his face entered her peripheral, focused intently on whatever was happening on screen. His fingers idly brushed circles over her hip when she moved, his tough ghostly soft through the denim jeans.

She tried to reinvigorate her interest in the movie, but the allure of her imagination proved too strong. Combined with the real Remy beside her, drawing his fingers over her so much like how Rogue dreamed him, she stood no chance.

Rogue rolled fully on to her back. The view of his little TV was uncomfortable in the position, but her perspective of Remy himself was much better. His fingers stopped moving, resting gently on her hip. Carefully positioned to maintain an almost demure visage.

The fantasy began enveloping reality again, and Remy's hand moved to Rogue's waist band. His fingers played at the border of the fabric, dipping lightly past her pants to her underwear. Rogue pressed up into his hand, her fingers locked onto his braced tricep. But here, even her sleeping brain stopped. Her mind buzzed with endorphins, the wet heat between her legs impossible to ignore. Yet the illusion fizzled out, lost completely to lack of experience and knowledge. Rogue's brain begged for Remy to satisfy her libido, but it didn't know what to expect.

Reality melted back around her. Remy didn't hover over her with slow, deep kisses. He laid beside her with attention focused on the fantastic story he'd found. As time moved on, he switched to his side, his head propped up on one fist while the other gently acknowledged her, but the movie was his sole focus. Not Rogue and her body.

Her hand had sought him out while her daydream churned around her. Unwitting to the consequences, Rogue casually pulled her hand back, her fingers touching him dangerously near his crotch as she did so.

Remy physically jumped, pulling away from her touch. Rogue startled, backpeddling hard and wrenching her hand back to her center. "Ah'm so sorry!" she said so quickly that the syllables ran into one another. "Ah didn't mean ta scare ya!"

"Scare me?" Remy echoed. His brow pulled together. "Nah. I ain't scared, chere." His eyes looked her over, pulled in on herself like a cornered animal. "Aw, c'mere." He waved his hand, beckoning her back to him.

Rogue dropped her eyes, staring hard at the duvet over top his bed. "Ah jus' …"

"Nah, it's good. C'mere."

Heat rose to Rogue's cheeks and her eyes burned with threatening tears, but she obliged him. Carefully avoiding looking at him, she rolled and sidled back to his side. He wrapped his arm around her, further pulling her closer to his chest.

"Sorry, chere. I di'n't mean t' react so hard."

"You don't like it," Rogue whispered, the words coming out in a breath.

Remy sighed, but the sigh rumbled in his chest against her back. He then sucked in a breath, the air nearly whistling through his teeth. "I ain't got da self control you t'ink I do, chere," he admitted lowly.

He held her tight, his hand almost possessively over her ribs to keep her there and close. His breathing consciously changed, the air pulled in deeply, held long enough to make Rogue's head spin, and exhaled impossibly slowly. She couldn't see his expression. Remy said no more, attention assumably fixed back on his ultra movie.

Rogue knew exactly the type of move she had made – and she couldn't see how this wasn't a rejection. The only thing that didn't make sense to her was why he'd want her close again. Why he didn't want her to leave?