R O G U E

Cassie glanced up from her phone to view the options, pausing for a moment as she tilted her head. “I’d go with the left. But that’s just me. Are you going out for a mission or something?”

“The left. Definitely the left. Honestly, I think the white hair really compliments them too.”

“Why not both? Isn’t that what that girl in that taco shell commercial says?”

“I hate to tell you, but the uniform’s tacky.”

He set his glass fully on the table, the crystal clinking against the wooden top. The force behind his reluctance to continue holding it caused some of the bourbon to spill over the top. He watched the pool of brown liquid, following the swirls, instead of turning around to face Rogue. “Oui, chere? Tell me more.” If he looked at her, he might apologize again. He might feel guilty about the drink before him, he might wonder how much different his life would’ve been if he’d married her. He probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now, thoughts a mess of Lorna gone, again, but who knew what other bullshit he’d be in when his heart was so easily entangled. “You gonna hate me forever then? That make it easier for you?”

she could count the number of times she’d seen him without a drink in his hand better than she could the opposite. maybe she’d been choosing to ignore its ugly little stare up until he’d placed it on the counter, using with no more force than ordinary, but still the sound was shattering. a stark reminder that while he’d set it down, it was only a momentary beat of separation -- he’d pick it up again soon as his throat ran dry from the last sip. Her viridian eyes dropped briefly, only to level with his again as he spoke. part of her wanted to tell him to shove it, and definitely not to call her that, but the familiarity of it left her a hesitant, “Maybe.” she admitted. rogue didn’t really want to concern herself with what being friends with him could mean. not when they’d been trying to build a life together once and for the most part -- it had been worth it. but as much as it sucked and she lost him in more ways than one, she didn’t regret walking away. abruptly, she pivoted on her foot and went to the pantry. “what’s with the broodin’ and the drink -- is it tuesday or are you wallowin’?” she asked over her shoulder -- not that she cared. 

His mismatched eyes shifted from the glass up towards the ceiling as he tried to separate annoyance from the swirl of emotion in his chest. There was no reason to outright snap at Rogue, considering she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, the temptation was there. “Always has been, haven’ you known?” he replied bleakly with none of the heat he intended. “An’ here I thought we’d gotten past all the bullshit, chere.” 

Rogue stopped and let the fridge door swing shut, impatiently settling a hand on her hip. of course he’d think that. because it was much easier to think they could just smooth it over and pretend he didn’t drink an entire relationship away just to slink into bed with someone else. jealous wasn’t the word for it, and she didn’t hate lorna. god knew she had nothing to do with this. remy and rogue hadn’t fallen apart because of a scandalous affair as the world might have guessed from the likes of lebeau. No, they’d fallen apart because rogue just couldn’t bring herself to play second fiddle to a bottle anymore. “you wade in bullshit, remy.” she sighed at him. “that’s the problem.”

“I know it’s a sensitive topic, but we might be seeing a revisit of the Accords once all of this is handled and over.” 

“does anyone else just – I dunno, feel kinda nauseous right now?”

“If you’re here to talk, I ain’t tryin’ to listen.” Remy said into his mostly full glass, the ice almost completely having melted in the expensive bourbon he’d almost never paid for. But the seat to his left that always remained empty every night he wandered in was now occupied and he reflexively shifted further against the wall to his right, nudging his shoulder against the wooden panels. 

“I’m sorry – can you repeat that?”

“I’m new to the situation, but it makes me think of the Sokovian Accords. The supervision, the monitoring. I don’t know what the world has been like this last year but it can’t be good.”

“Gwenpool. Gwen, if you’re feeling cute. Never Gwen Stacy. Common misconception.”