She didn't want to get hurt. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit it. But no. She's Rogue, and she has quite a talent when it comes to denying the truth.

On top of that, she was scared. The feelings she had for him were unlike anything she'd ever felt before. The way he looked at her would make her realize how insignificant those temporary attractions to Scott and Cody were.

But he couldn't touch her like he wanted to. She knew. She could see it. However, he could touch anyone else. He could kiss anyone else. And he could very well tear her heart out while he was at it.

So why what was he doing with her? It didn't make sense. She didn't understand.

But she didn't want to get hurt. That was one thing she knew. And she was terrified that he'd leave.

That had been the true source of their argument. That was why they'd yelled at each other, throwing hurtful words and heated glares. It was a simple, maybe subconscious, plan: make him leave before he left. Before it could hurt too badly. As she lay on her bed crying, she was concerned that she'd waited too long.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Go away," her voice came out hoarse and cracked.

The knocking got louder before the door opened. Her back was to the door. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. Hesitant steps came to the edge of her bed.


Maybe if she didn't move he'd think she was sleep and go away.

"I know you're not sleep."

Damn. She felt his weight settle on the bed. She cleared her throat and sniffed.


"We need to talk."

Oh, she didn't want to do that.

"You sound like a chick," she scoffed.


"There really isn't anythin' to talk about. It's not like this is the first fight we've had."

He was silent for a beat.

"Would you turn around? I don't much like talkin' to your back."

Very reluctantly, she sat up with her legs folded under and faced him. Illuminated by a lamp across the room, he was just visible to her.

Maybe he wouldn't see –

"Have you been cryin'?"


"Rogue, you know…I didn't mean any of what I said before."

"You must have meant some of it. Else why'd ya say it?"

"Because I'm an idiot and I was mad. But I am so sorry. Please believe me."

"It would make sense though. You bein' with another woman."

"Chere, I – "

"No," she held up a hand to stop him. "No, I mean entirely. Like this thing we're doin'…How 'bout we just don't anymore."

That…was far more painful than she thought it would be. The look he was giving her wasn't helping in that regard either.

"I don't understand. Why are you sayin' this? You know I love you."

"Just forget it! It's stupid for you to waste your life with me!"

Why would he say that? Why won't he just let it go?

"You are not a waste! You are the most wonderful thing in my life. Hell, without you I ain't got much of a life!"

"You ain't waitin' for me!" she ordered, more than a little hysterical. "You can't even touch me so how – "

"Would ya shut up? NO!" he snapped again when she opened her mouth. "You will listen to me. I don't care if I can't touch you. I don't need to! All you gotta do is jus' keep breathin' and stay with me, and I'm happy. What I feel when you just look at me don't even compare with anyone else. You smile and my world's all right. So don't. Do. Not. tell me to forget about you. It's not gonna happen. Ever."

She didn't say anything after that. Just stared at him.

It was hard for her to reconcile what he said, despite knowing the sincerity of his words. People needed touch. Remy Lebeau more so. He also loved women and their…natural qualities. That he would willingly wait for her to gain control someday…it made no sense. Did he really love her that much?

She bit her lip so she wouldn't shed her tears again. It didn't work.

When did she become such a girl?

She suddenly didn't know what to do with her hands, and they fluttered in front of her before Remy gathered her in his arms.

"Ah, chere, don't cry. Ya killin' me with that."

Her arms went around his neck as he rocked her.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she choked out between sobs.

"Ya got nothin' to be sorry for. Just know that I ain't lettin' you go. J'taime."

Rogue couldn't respond if she wanted to. She continued to sob into his chest, soaking his shirt long before she was spent.

The fear and worry was still there. It would be for a long time. But eventually, she'd be able to push it aside when it tried to take over. She would enjoy this man who loved her for as long as she could, as long as he'd have her.

And one day, they would find out that it was all well worth the wait.


I can do the serious emotional stuff too. Whether I do it well or not, psh! Who said it had to be done well?