Disclaimer: I'm just a poor college student who really should be studying.

Title: Shoulda Put a Ring on It

Words: 747

"If you don't, you'll be alone"

Remy LeBeau should've known that by the first few minutes of his morning, how this day would've turned out. He had woken up with the worse hangover he had ever had; worse than when he had first discovered alcohol when he was fourteen, and spent the night mixing drinks that should never be drunken together. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten alcohol poisoning that night.

His head had been pounding, and his muscles ached as if he had run a level twelve simulation with Wolverine for over an hour. His eyes, which had already been sensitive to light, couldn't even stand the fluorescent light from the lamp next to his bed. His mouth tasted of vomit, and the thirst he felt had been driving him crazy.

It didn't help that Logan dragged him out of bed at five in the morning, and surprised him with a level eight danger room session with a bunch of the younger mutants. All the hot water had been gone by the time he finally got to a shower, and the only food that had been left for breakfast was some of Kitty's muffins.

His morning had not gone well at all. And it had only gotten worse from there. By lunch he had been assigned to kitchen duty, then with the task of taking the younger mutants to the mall to get school supplies with Scott. He had preferred the danger room with Logan.

So when John had invited him out that night, he hadn't hesitated in ditching his kitchen duty for that night. It would be worth it, he told himself.

It hadn't.

Instead of enjoying a couple of drinks and stalking out his latest conquest, he found himself sulking in the corner of the packed club nursing a beer. His normally relaxed postured had stiffened, and his usual nonchalant façade had long past dissolved into unbridled anger.

His red on black eyes glowered ominously as he glared at the pair dancing not too far from him. Large hangs were pressed possessively against the female's hips, roaming the contours of her curves. They grinded together in perfect sync.

Rogue's vivid green eyes were closed, as he watched her get lost to the beat. She certainly had come a long way since her goth days from high school. Her auburn hair, which had grown out a couple of inches, had been pulled into sloppy bun with her tell tale white stripes framing her face. A thin sheet of sweat glistened on her scantily covered pale skin, and he could even see a few droplets fall and glide their way into the swell of her breast. With the control of her "gifts", she had taken to showing more skin though the process had been gradual.

His eyes began to narrow when he saw the bastard hands (that should've been his) begin to lower, and then glide back up under the hem of her shirt getting a chance to sample her silky flesh. He clutched his beer even tighter.

"Fuck," he muttered before slamming his bottle down onto the metal table in front of him. He could've been the one dancing with her, holding her possessively, and smirking arrogantly at anyone who dared to look at his cherie twice. Now he had been reduced to brooding, in a dark corner, watching his ex with some other guy.

Four years, three months, two weeks, and a day they had dated before she ended the longest relationship he had ever had. Marriage, he had scoffed at the idea when she brought it up. Claimed that was one road he was never going down again. That he didn't want to tie himself down for the rest of his life, and that they were fine with that they, why ruin a good thing?

And those words had been the biggest mistake of his life. She had broken up with him a week later with tears in her eyes, and the stinging words that she didn't see their relationship going anywhere, that she wanted more and he couldn't give it to her.

He was such an idiot. He should've fought harder that day. And it took their break up, and seeing her out with other guys that she was the only girl for him. The one he wanted to share his life, have kids, and grow old with. He hadn't even realized he wanted those things until her.

He shoulda put a fucking ring on her finger.