Disclaimer: After all this time, I still don't own Remy or Rogue. Some things never change, eh?

A/N: …peeks out from her corner Um, hi? I hope you guys remember me! Yeah, I'm melancholic, the pathetic excuse for a writer who left all her fics and readers hanging for the last two years. cringes Yeah, I'm that horrible. Before you guys finish deciding whether to stone me for taking so freaking long and fordisappearing off the face of the earth, or bursting into a Hallelujah chorus because I'm back, let me just say that I'M REALLY SORRY! I know that a new chapter isn't enough to make up for it, but I hope that it's a start:-S

If you're wondering why the heck I got the urge to update, I guess it's because I just visited my old account and was struck by how much time had passed since I'd actually written any fan fics. I'm struggling to get back into the groove of things, what with generally being out of the fic world for quite a while, and admittedly, not being as obsessed with the X-Men as I was. Still, I hope that my attempt at a new chapter is decent, that my writing ability hasn't totally deserted me, and that (if you guys still remember the previous events of this story) there's still some sort of continuity between the chapters. Which is why I wrote an interlude, just to test the waters again!

Lastly, before we finally get to it, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to ishandahalf, because I have been the suckiest co-author in the history of the universe. I know this doesn't make up for my unexcused absence, but I do hope that it's something to start of the litany of things I owe her! What if I throw a post make-out and very eager Remy in there? gets down on her knees and pleads

…without further ado, here's the interlude!

Shiver by melancholic

Interlude: Reflection

Rogue stared at the mirror, her breathing coming in ragged gasps as she took in her reflection through the glass stained with dirt and mist. Her lips were swollen, bleeding with love and lust and a thousand other emotions elicited by a searing contact between two mouths, a kiss that swallowed her entirely. She was never one to imagine how getting sucked into a black hole would feel like – now, she was all caught up in the vortex of a stranger with red eyes reminiscent of the blood now pounding dangerously in her veins.

To put it plainly, she felt like a supernova.

She vividly remembered exploding like a firecracker under his touch, the mere contact of his skin igniting sparks that his fingers left in their wake. That was the last coherent thing her mind noticed before it blacked out to the sweet sensation of his lips attacking her own, the world around them bursting into a blur as she faded into him. She surrendered herself to the pull of his embrace; resisting it was as futile an attempt as trying to flee from the infinite gravity of a black hole.

She could have absolutely no way of knowing that just one kiss would feel as though she were being torn apart from herself.

And that was why she ran. She took off like a violently rotating tornado and left nothing but chaos and dust and despair on the dance floor, unmindful of her four-inch stilettos and the very high probability that her heels could snap at the speed she was going, cared less about the arms and hands that hindered her as they sought to stop her or save her. All she could feel was the stinging sensation of tears sliding down her cheeks, mingling with the tingling in her cheek caused by the memory of his skin. She shut her eyes, shut out the ache that settled in her heart and body, every nerve in her system on overdrive because she couldn't decide what need was greater – to stay pressed against him, or to stay as far away as distance would allow.

Rogue stumbled as she slowed down her pace, miraculously managing to find the entrance to the bathroom. She rested her head against the door, fighting the urge to slam her head repeatedly against it, and placed a shuddering hand against the knob as she turned it and shoved herself inside. She dragged her feet against the wet, soiled floor, the sharp clack of her heels against the tiles resonating throughout the hollow walls. She found a moment to be proud of herself for pulling off the extraordinary feat of dashing away like that and still leaving her expensive shoes' heels intact – but that thought wasn't enough to keep the numbness from finally seeping through her veins.

What had she done?

She felt like a zombie was glaring back at her through the blurry mirror, her skin drained of its color and the pallor of a ghost on it; eyes wide, bloodshot, momentarily unblinking; tears and runny mascara making her cheeks look like a sorry canvas; and her lips, partly open, tongue fidgeting as though it believed the battle was not yet over and that it expected his tongue to glide aggressively against it once more.

She looked exactly like she did after she shared her last kiss with Joseph.

After that last kiss, where she vowed that she would never, ever let anyone touch her the way he did, let alone move along her mouth in the same manner, as though his soul sought hers out and connected with it.

She had often thought that kisses like that only came along once in a lifetime, and one was only meant to share it with the same person forever. She never thought, never dreamed, never believed that her Joseph would kiss another girl, on their bed, the way he kissed her.

Which was why she vowed to erase every memory that he had ever imprinted on her skin, seeking out another's flesh for another memory. Each time a different skin had brushed hers, she felt like she was on fire – but not with passion. She was scorched by anger, stoked by the desire to prove that she could succeed in forgetting how he tasted like, the flames of anger licking at her and fuelling her on.

But she could only go so far before she had nothing left to be burned with.

How then, did she turn into the proverbial moth attracted to the flame?

The moment her gaze locked with his devil-red eyes, she should have known better.

The moment her lips locked with his the inferno caused by his mouth, she should have known better.

But she didn't, and wouldn't.

Rogue curled her firsts and forced her eyes shut, suppressing a scream.

She didn't notice the door opening behind her and that the new image reflected by the mirror was ready to let all hell break loose.

A/N: Yes, it's still short, and I'm still mean... but come on, did you expect any better? ;) Though... tt'd be a really great thing if you guys could leave a review and tell me if I'm still doing this properly. Or, there's also the whole pitchfork, torch-wielding, and garden-hose strangling option. ;) Seriously, though! I'm going to try and get the next chapter up soon - rest assured it won't take another two years - and I hope you guys stick with me for the ride. :)