A/N: This is set before Valle Soleada and her slate getting wiped clean. I hope you like it. For those wondering where my other writing duties are, this is my way of warming up the muse in the hopes it'll write something I actually like.


To Smell As Sweet


A name.

It's a funny thing, the idea that a name is special or important, that it matters. It doesn't. Not to me anyway.

When Remy asks me my name and I don't tell him, he thinks it means something, that somehow I'm holding out on him, expecting more than I'm willing to give. Why can't he realize that I don't have a name? That one time I almost told him and he stopped me, it wasn't about being too close or too intimate or even offering my heart. What kind of a heart does a girl like me got to offer?

I thought it might be the last time I could actually remember it. I turned it over and over in my head so I could tell someone and then he said it didn't matter. And it doesn't.

'Cept I don't remember it anymore.

I keep trying to tell that boy he should just walk away from me. He doesn't understand why I pull him close then push him back. He doesn't realize that I don't actually know which psyche in my head is meand which ones aren't—'ceptin' the boys. I'm not an idiot. Because he doesn't understand, he never knows who he's really dealing with. Not sure I do either.

That's the trouble with all of 'em, really. They think I'm not trying hard enough to gain control. They think I'm afraid.

What they don't know is Rogue is all of us in here. And that's the problem. I think the only one that can gain control is the one that has my name.

And I don't have one.