Title: Right Here, Right Now
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Author's Notes: for whipsy
Summary: All they had was now. Rogue/Gambit
They didn't talk about his past. It was a doozy. The former Thief named Gambit had enough blood and broken hearts on his hands to last them both forever. They didn't talk about her future. It was worse. So far—with Cured mutants dropping like flies from Legacy and only a two percent survival rate—her prognosis wasn't good, and Rogue had never been the optimistic type anyway. He was glad she was young enough to see second chances in his future; she was glad he was old enough to care more about the moment and less about the tragedy (his life was nothing but tragedy anyway).
So they took it—the untouchable and the Cajun—every moment life offered them, running bare fingers over each other's skin until they were breathless, laughing at each other's jokes and stories, putting a ring on her finger, pretending forever was just a day away.
It couldn't last (they knew it), but whoever had promised them forever? She asked Logan to give her away and then pretended she couldn't tell he was trying not to cry.
He took the days and the weeks and the months before she was diagnosed with Legacy. She took the memories and pains of his life every time she touched him. They took the here; they took the now. Tomorrow had enough worries with leaving them there.
"I love ya, Remy," she whispered every night, knowing there was no tomorrow to tell him, just here, just now.
He tucked her head against his shoulder, kissed her hair, and whispered back, "I'll always love y', chère. Always."