Time passes slowly for the broken hearted, and that is why, a clock never brings me good news. I sighed, as I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling trying to stop myself from glancing once more at the clock. It had been three days since him and I last spoke. Precisely 81 hours since that night with Jean.
I didn’t want to go downstairs for breakfast. By now, everyone knew of course. Rumours spread like chicken pox with these children. I winced as I rolled accidentally onto my bad hand, which would take a while to heal. I was rather disappointed I hadn’t done much damage on the wall, nothing more than a scuff.
Xavier must have made these walls mutant proof.
I scowled in the darkness of my bedroom, reluctant to open my blinds to the waiting sunlight that was trying to get in through various edges of my curtains. I hadn’t been able to sleep. So I woke at nine, and had already taken a shower, done my hair, and finished the last chapter of my book.
I couldn’t think of much else to do with my time. It was Thursday. What do I usually do on Thursdays? I would usually go to the danger room and complete at least three simulations before allowing myself a carton of Ben and Jerry’s, foolishly making myself believe I deserved it. And then I’d guiltily work out more, something... ‘he’ would always make fun of me for.
But Thursday was also the night that Jean had her regular meeting with Xavier, leaving Logan to a night by himself, a night he would usually call me on. And we’d watch whatever movie was on TV around nine o’clock. My teeth clenched automatically.
I wanted to stay in my bedroom. But naturally, I am far to restless to do that. I wandered through the hallway, making my way to the kitchen finally. I grabbed an apple and headed outside the mansion. Across a distance there was a cliff, and below that, a good fall to the ocean below. There were times that I could stare out at the ocean forever. Something about a never ending horizon of water is just beautiful to me. I’d usually sit in the gazebo where I could see the ocean when I wanted to relax. Once, Logan and I had sat here for hours, just sitting here and talking.
But now I sat here alone, reading, and eating an apple. I sighed as I breathed in the autumn air, trying not to think of December thirteenth. And I tried not to think of how Jean had planned it all. She must have gotten tired of everyone talking about us.
Logan and I were better at ignoring it than she was. I’m guessing, it’s because she could hear their thoughts as well. So she must have wanted us to get it over with, so he could see that she’s clearly better than me in every way.
I hugged my legs to my chest, resting my forehead on my knees. It was then, that I realized what my real problem was. My only problem, is that I continue to think. But sometimes, you shouldn’t think. You should just go for it and hope for the best. I’m sitting around thinking about how miserable I am, and that’s clearly not helping. I had been sitting here a long time, too long now to recognize that the sun was no longer high overhead, but far in the distance covered by pink sheen of clouds. It wasn’t too late just yet. Probably around six.
I clenched my teeth, trying hard not to let myself linger on the agony. “Chere?” My head snapped up to where the voice came from, to see Remy standing at the entrance of my gazebo, clearly waiting for permission to come in. That’s the good thing about him. He’s never intrusive.
I forced a smile. “Hey.” My voice wasn’t supposed to come out that broken.
I heard him exhale as he stepped forward, and walked closer to sit down. “How’re you holding up?”
I shrugged simply. “With what?”
The tendons in his jaw tensed as I held up my wall of denial, and walked over to sit down next to me. “Jean just told us they’re engaged.”
“Oh.” The word whooshed out of me as I exhaled. “That.”
He put his arm around me, a natural movement, like he didn’t even think about it. He just held me, because he knew I needed it, even if I wouldn’t admit it. “You okay?”
For a moment I could see how perfect it would be with Remy and I. He’s kind, and sweet. A gentleman, with the seductive purr in his voice that can make any woman swoon. I know that there is only one thing wrong with Remy... and it shouldn’t even count as a fault.
He’s not Logan.
“I’m fine Rem’” I assured him quietly.
I heard him sigh as he rested his head on top of mine. “Come on then belle. How bout dat dinner?” He let go of me and got up, smiling warmly down at me and holding out a hand for mine.
I made myself smile as I put my hand in his.
For the last little while, under the surface of every layer I had within me were the tears waiting to be cried. I hadn’t let myself cry yet. Somehow, crying just makes me feel worse. And I didn’t want to know if it was possible for me to feel worse.
Remy led me through the hall and we were headed towards the door when we walked through the room where Jean and Xavier were, talking. Her gaze flickered to mine, full of a winning fire. She smiled at me, and it somehow reminded me of Logan’s victory dance.
My jaw clenched as Remy continued to pull me out, not letting us stop even for a moment. What a great guy he is. As though he could pretend she wasn’t there. I bit my lip as I got into his car, a red mustang. I gazed out the window as we drove out, not really seeing anything that passed through my line of vision.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” I murmured, my voice quiet and monotone.
He kept one hand at the top of the steering while, unlike Logan who only held the bottom. “I don’t know what you mean chere.”
I sighed and folded my arms across my chest. “Jean.” I turned away from him so he couldn’t see my face. “She’s pretty and she’s smart and she’s Jean.”
I figured I was making him uncomfortable. The thing is I wasn’t jealous of her. Because I didn’t want what she and Logan had. I wanted what me and Logan had. Because what we had was perfect, and it would have remained so, had she not existed.
“Don’ be like that.” He said slowly. “The girl ain’ nothing compared to you.”
I rolled my eyes at his futile attempt to make me feel better. “It’s a matter of opinion I suppose.”
He let out a quiet snort. “Nah most boys at school agree with Remy.”
I smiled, looking down at my hands before glancing towards him. His deep brown hair matched the colour of his stubble, and as I breathed in I could smell the musky cigarette smoke on him. I raised my eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t smoke.”
He shrugged easily, untroubled. “Remy thought you didn’t drink.”
I clenched my jaw as pain pounded through my heart. It pulsed through my veins, thick as steel. “How did you find out?”
“Nurse told me.” He admitted, a smile curled his mouth as he let his gaze flicker to mine briefly. “Dah girl said you stumbled in with a broken hand and you kept muttering ‘superheroes my ass.’”
I pursed my lips. “I did after all, get drunk and break my hand.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “But it was more then dat no?” I avoided his ruby red gaze. So penetrating, it saw through me no matter how much I wanted to hide my secrets. He just knew. “Come on chere,” He purred seductively. “Tell me ‘bout your weekend with dah wolverine.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
I know... this took me FOREVER to write. I'm so sorry for that. I hope you forgive me. Enjoy.
Chapter End Notes:
Wow, what's that below? A review box? Yay! It needs some use. :)