As a man, you have a certain idea of shopping.
You make a mental list of what you need: new sweater, some toast, some cream cheese, beer, pack of beef jerky and hair gel (no need to comment on that, it's just a hypothetical example of what somebody's shopping list might look like. Didn't ever say it was mine, did I?)
So, you got that list in your head and then you go in.
Much like hunting, shopping is a very methodical and logical process. You look for what you need, and when you see it, you grab it. Then you get the hell outta the store.
Shopping with Rogue, however, is a whole different story. See, we even have a goal: she wants her gloves. She's seen them, she remembers the store that has them, all we need to do is walk into that mall, buy the gloves and get on out of there. But somehow having that aim means nothing to her.
The minute we enter that purgatory they call Honey Creek Mall, her eyes start to glow and she tugs at my sleeve, pulling me from one shop to another, pointing at various objects on display and going on and on about how pretty they are.
Now, the glowing and pulling part is all right with me. She's happy, I'm happy; that concept hasn't changed. But I just don't understand whatever concept she seems to have...or doesn't have.
“Don't you wanna go get your gloves?” I ask her, making an honest effort to hide my impatience.
“Mhm...”
She produces a happy little mewing sound that has me thinking of various ways to make her do that again...I know, I know, I wasn't gonna go there. But what am I supposed to do? I'm in a freaking mall, I need to keep my spirits up somehow.
“Then...why are we looking at...shoes?”
“Because they're pretty...just look.”
'Pretty' isn't necessarily the word I would use. As of right now, her eyes are focused on a pair of good old fuck-me boots. Black leather, high heels and all the fantasies that come with that, for only 49,99$.
“I was gonna teach you how to shop, remember Logan?”
“Right...”
So she's still into this whole teaching-each-other-stuff thing. Normally, that would be a huge turn-on. Even without the Catholic school girl outfit that I'm imaging her in right now...
But Rogue being the teacher was never part of the plan. And shopping sure as hell wasn't part of the curriculum when I last checked. It might not be as dangerous as riding the motorcycle, but excruciatingly painful in a very different way.
“Lesson One: Window shopping is fun and a good way to warm up.”
The word 'window shopping' rings a bell in my head and I'm pretty sure she explained it to me once. You don't actually buy stuff, you just look at it. Sounds pointless and frustrating as hell, but apparently it's what girls do.
I'll never get it. I know all about looking and admiring from afar and never actually getting what I want...it is not fun. It is not a Saturday afternoon activity.
“Got it,” I reply, hoping we will get to the part of actually buying stuff very soon. Or at least trying on clothes. Or fuck-me shoes. Whatever she wants. As long as she distracts me from all the annoying background noise like screaming babies, giggling girls and the sighing of exhausted parents...and the fact that I'm in a mall in the first place.
“Lesson Two: you don't always have to purchase something,” she explains, rising her index finger teacher-style.
The cute gesture makes me forget all about the pressing issue that we're still nowhere near completing our mission of buying a pair of gloves and I nod.
“Sometimes it's fun to just try on different outfits that you would never ever buy. Just to see what they look like and maybe take some fun pictures with your phone.”
Ah, we're getting to a more interesting part now. Rogue trying on clothes. And taking pictures...I could definitely warm up to the idea of that.
After exactly 74 minutes of watching her change from one outfit into the next, I have to reassess. If all I had to do was sit there and look at her, we'd be just fine. But she actually wants to hear comments on what she's wearing.
And exactly what am I supposed to say when she comes prancing out of the dressing room in a tiny black dress and the aforementioned high-heeled leather boots, flashing me a shy smile?
I think the “pretty” I choked out didn't sound too convincing and she returned to the dressing room with slightly slumped shoulders.
That was about half an hour into our little Rogue-plays-dress-up-and-Logan-is-being-a-dirty-old-pervert adventure.
After one hour, I was sure she had to be finished some time soon. We had gone through the theoretical part of Lessons Three and Four, Market Analysis and Objects On Sale and I was more than ready to get out of there.
When the huge yellow watch above the dressing room doors clicks to 4:15, I decide that 75 minutes are enough to illustrate the concept of Lesson Two and politely ask her to change back into her own clothes and please, please, pretty please take me to the store where her gloves are now.
“Are you sure? I was gonna try on some new pajamas...”
As cute as she might look in those, I stay strong and nod my head. She doesn't seem like she's mad at me for interrupting her lesson and I sigh in relief.
“One more thing....”
Oh no. What now?
“I really want those boots...”
And here we go again, an innocent I-feel-bad-for-asking-you face and the biggest puppy eyes in the history of girls begging men to buy them stuff.
I can already picture her walking the Mansion with those heels, her long legs hidden in black leather up to her knees and gloriously naked to the hem of the mini skirt.
And I really shouldn't buy her those shoes because they will only fuel thoughts that I know I shouldn't have...but while I'm telling myself that, the money is already changing hands and suddenly a very happy little girl is hugging me, holding a pink plastic bag containing the new pair of boots.
And that hug, that smile, the joy in her eyes...I spent a damn good 50 bucks here.
I'm not entirely sure why I'm carrying three huge shopping bags by now. Just like I'm not sure how Rogue convinced me that I needed new clothes and managed to drag me into presumably a million stores.
The one thing that's easy to figure out is how she made me buy the stuff I did. All she had to do was sit there, look pretty and go “ooh, I like that on you” and I'd take it.
I'm so fucking easy to manipulate it's not even funny anymore...and doesn't she know it.
At least I can see light at the end of the tunnel: we already bought her gloves and it's pretty safe to say we've been to every store in the mall, so it has to be over any minute now.
“On to Lesson Seven. I think you'll enjoy that one.”
Or so I thought, until she comes up with that. My misery will never end.
“It's called Food Court 101.”
Food? Well thank God, finally there's something I know how to deal with. You buy, you eat, you're happy. End of story.
“The essential thing when it comes to eating at the mall is that you have to pick something yummy, cheap and completely unhealthy.”
“Okay.”
“Pop Quiz: ice-cream or a burger?”
Oh shit. She never said there would be quizzes. Should I have paid more attention? Shit. Okay, focus now, focus.
Ice-cream or burger...yeah it's ridiculous that I'm even thinking about shit like this, but apparently my free will and common sense walked out the door a long time ago. Probably when I first saw her in that dress with the heels...focusing now!
I'd go for the burger, no doubt. Coz there's meat and I like that. Protein or whatever it is that's in there, makes me feel all good. But her...well she's a girl so it's all different. She does eat ice-cream a lot when she's at the Mansion...hanging out with those two chatterboxes, having movie nights or sleepovers or whatever it is little girls do. I'll just give it a try.
“Ice-cream?”
And yep, I'm right. She beams at me, showing me two thumbs up and motions for me to follow her to the ice-cream stand.
“You're a really good student, Logan,” she giggles and yes that actually makes me feel a little proud.
Because it means she's enjoying herself - unlike me; but I guess ya gotta make sacrifices if you really love someone.
...
.....
.......
Did I just say I love her?
...
.....
Huh.
...
.....
I'm speechless. There are no fucking words.
...
Shit!
....
......
Well at least I didn't say it out loud.
I hope.
“Logan are you okay? Is something wrong? You look...nauseous,” Rogue says and she's looking a little worried.
I just look at her blankly, shrugging. She's still waiting for some kind of an answer.
“Uh...the quiz. It...made me nervous.”
Riiight.
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Chapter End Notes:
I had sooo much fun with writing this one! I hope you enjoyed it.
poor Logan. he's all baffled and confused now. hehe.
by the way: Happy Easter =)
poor Logan. he's all baffled and confused now. hehe.
by the way: Happy Easter =)