Dear Diary:
I will be truthful. I thought I loved him. I will be noble. I would sacrifice almost anything for him. I will be caring. I was ready to die for him. I will be blunt. I was wrong. I didn't love him, not how I believed. When he kissed me that last night he was here, with the scarf protecting our lips from actual touch, and his tongue wanting to escape the silk confinement to explore my mouth, I felt absolutely nothing. I lied. I did feel something. It was called disgust. I don't know if he felt it or not, but he backed away when he knew I wasn't responding and he gave me a look filled with shame. Shame for what, though? Because he had kissed a child? Or because the child he kissed was me? I am not a child, nor have I been one for a long time. I am not an innocent girl waiting for a man to come sweep her off her feet. I am a tangled mystery to those who are loyal to me and a threat to those who are not. I am a warrior. I am undefeatable and untouchable. I am Rogue.
So when he came to me that night, I thought I would let him be the one to finally break down my barriers and to find his way to my heart. Yes I loved him. Yes I thought he was everything I would need. He wasn't and I didn't. It was my last childish salvation. A crush on an untouchable man, not because of his skin, like me, but because he chose to keep himself closed off and mysterious. I thought that if the Wolverine could not be tamed, than he deserved someone just as wild and uncaring. I never thought that I would be the one to tame him. It would have been better if I got him neutered, the way he was carrying on. He was actually acting like a bitch in heat. But I couldn't do it. I love him, but only because he's my family.
I tried to explain that to him, but he just wouldn't listen. He thought I was only scared. Yeah, me scared of the Wolverine. That's a laugh. I'm sorry, but that stupid growl of his doesn't make me tremble nor wet.
I don't know what to think. I mean, I know I don't want the Wolverine, but I also don't want Bobby Drake or the stupid Cajun that keeps making passes. Oh God, I totally forgot! Remy, the Cajun, snuck up behind me while I was in the kitchen making something to snack on and he wrapped his arms around my waist and tried to kiss me through my hair. Well, Logan walked in just as everything was happening, and I thought he was going to have a cow!!! I mean he actually grabbed Remy by his waist and threw him across the kitchen, which isn't that small in the first place. Well, even though I was trying really hard not to laugh, I pretended like I was pissed so I slapped Logan and gave him a dirty look before I ran to my room to laugh my ass off! I don't know why, but I do get a kick out of it whenever he does stupid shit like that. I think it's sweet.
Back to the topic at hand. I don't love him. I know I don't. I can't love him. He's my protector. But if I don't love him, why is he the first thing I think of when I get up and the last thing I think of when I go to bed? Why do I smile shyly when ever I think about him? Shit why can't I stop thinking about him?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Rogue's POV. Rogue/Logan mention Bobby and Remy. Tried to have humor, not really good at writing "funny."