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Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Title: Watching
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks,
http://www.geocities.com/aloysiusj/xfic.html
[my site]
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or the song "Leave"
by Matchbox Twenty.
'Ship: Bobby/Rogue, Rogue/Gambit
Classification: angst
Summary: Bobby writes in a journal to work out his
feelings after Rogue breaks up with him.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Feedback: to wilde_moon@yahoo.com
so I know people are reading
Notes: The graphic for this story is at http://www.geocities.com/aloysiusj/watching.html
It's amazing
How you make your fact just like a wall,
How you take your heart and turn it off,
How I turn my head and lose it all.
It's unnerving
How just one move puts me by myself,
There you go just trust someone else.
I'm guessing I should have seen it coming. I mean, look at
Marie and then look at me. How long can that really last?
I'm the goof off, the class clown. I'm not the hero. I'm not
the guy who gets the girl. So I didn't.
That doesn't make it easier.
When she told me, y'know, that it was over, she came into
my room and sat down on the edge of my bed, and I knew right
then. Marie has these eyes that you can see everything in,
these big, beautiful brown eyes, the kind of eyes you could
drown in, but you know you wouldn't mind drowning because
they're so gorgeous. You know it would be warm and soft.
Anyway, she sat down and I could see in those eyes that she
didn't really care about me. Oh, I'm her "friend," alright.
But that's all. And I know it must have been there all the
time, but I didn't want to see it. The only reason I saw it
then was because I wasn't bothering to hide it. Or maybe there
wasn't anything left to hide behind. So she says, "Bobby,
you know I love you. I'm just not in love with you." And that
accent of hers sounded as good as ever, and it took just about
everything in me to hear what she was saying and to realize
what it meant.
I mumbled something about it being okay and she smiled and
hugged me and left. "We're still friends, right?" Yeah, sure,
of course. I'm friend guy. Great.
What gets me is that not a week later, I went into the library
and she was in there. Not studying. Her and that freaky-eyed
Cajun were in the corner whispering and giggling. It made
me sick. Then he took her hand and kissed her palm through
the gloves just like I used to. When he did it, though, she
giggled and smiled and gave him the sort of look that I would
literally kill to have directed at me, especially from her.
He kept running his fingers through her hair, whispering in
a way that I knew meant he was probably reciting poems about
how beautiful she was.
The whole time, I was standing there wondering why I hadn't
done that. Why didn't I bring her flowers everyday? Why couldn't
I make my voice sound all deep and seductive and stuff? Why
couldn't I be the hero for once? Or the mysterious, glowing-eyed
stranger.
I'm not saying
There wasn't nothing wrong
I just didn't think you'd ever get tired of me.
I'm not saying
We ever had the right to hold on
I just didn't wanna let it get away from me.
So I knew right from the start that someone like Marie couldn't
stay with someone like me. I'm boring. Too normal. Or something.
I mean, I'm a mutant. How normal can I be? When I get nervous,
I freeze anything I touch. I could kill someone doing that
if I’m not careful. I try hard to be careful. But I'm too
normal. I'm not exciting. I don't ooze danger and mystery.
Like Gambit. Or Logan. I'm not her type.
I knew that from the beginning. I asked her anyway. I couldn’t
not ask. She’s Marie, and I loved her the minute I laid eyes
on her, from the moment she looked at me with those eyes and
drawled her name. And she went. We went to the movies and
out to eat and sat around talking. She was my best friend
and my girlfriend all in one, and it was amazing. It felt
perfect being with her. So we couldn't make out like other
couples? So what! That's why God made those nice, thin nylon
scarves. You just have to be creative-and careful.
And saying that makes me wonder just how "creative" she's
been with the Cajun. I don't like the thought of him touching
her, but he obviously is. If all that fawning they were doing
in the library is how they act in public, then what the hell
are they doing behind closed doors? I never pushed. I never
pressured. And I never got anywhere. And I didn't care. I
still don't. I'd rather spend my time talking to Rogue and
holding her hand than groping with anybody else.
I miss her the way I'd miss my arm if it got chopped off.
Maybe more. I mean, you can always use your feet to write
or whatever. There's no substitute for Marie. Wow, nice pity
party I'm throwing for myself. Too bad nobody else came.
But if that's how it's gonna leave
Straight out from underneath
Then we'll see who's sorry now
If that's how it's gonna stand when
You know you've been depending on
The one you're leaving now
The one you're leaving out
I'm not doing so good without her. But how can she do without
me? We talked about everything! When those nightmares Logan
gave her got bad, we'd sneak off into the living room and
talk until she got tired. Or I'd just hold her. Once she even
talked me into singing her a lullaby. It was painful, but
she said it helped. And I'll be damned if I wouldn't do anything
for her.
She has to miss me at least a little. "We'll be friends"
apparently means that we won't ever talk and will try like
anything to pretend we've never met and don't live in the
same school. We aren't even acquaintances. Forget friends.
And I miss it. I miss her. I want things to be the same. Even
if we were still together, though, they wouldn't be the same.
We'd be awkward and embarrassed (or at least I would be),
and it would still be different.
So I watch her. I try to tell myself it's because I'm protecting
her, but that's dumb. Besides, Logan is around again now,
and he does enough protecting for a small army. I don't think
he likes Remy either. That's probably the one thing old hairy
and I have in common. Sometimes when I'm watching her, I see
him doing the same thing. Sometimes I wonder if he does it
for the same reasons I do. Maybe he's in love with her too.
I can't see how anybody in their right mind wouldn't be.
She was outside the other day, walking with him, and
the sunlight was catching her hair just right and it looked
like fire sometimes. I never realized how much red there was
in it until then. It was beautiful. And those white streaks
were flashing bright and pure like snow. And that bastard
saw me watching them and he smiled at me. And I wanted to
challenge him to a duel or something, fight for her honor.
Yeah, Marie would've loved that. It annoys her coming from
Logan. She would have killed me.
So that's all. There ya go, Professor, I wrote in the damn
journal! This is how I feel. I hate losing her, I hate him
for taking her, and I hate myself for not being the man she
wants. Mostly, though, I just miss her.
THE END
Catch Your Breath [my index site] ~ http://www.catchyourbreath.net
"We've always been ready for female superheroes because women
want to be them and men want to do them." -Famke Janssen
"Rogue, please. I like you. Don't make me stab you to death
with a plastic hanger." ~from Dyce's fic 'The Godless Among
Them'
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