I packed my bags and headed to my jeep parked out front. There was no way I could stay here. Not after what he'd done. What an arrogant asshole. I mean, who does that, right? Who brings some random girl home when you've got someone else staying with you? Who?
And, like, sure, I'm usually pretty easy-going about his womanizing, but this trip was supposed to be 'just us', ya know? He specifically asked me to come with him when he left the mansion a few weeks ago. What does that even mean to him, that he asked me along?
We came up here, he fought some, I watched and took care of him afterwards. We spent our days talking and taking turns driving...
Why did he ask me to come with him? Out of pity? Did he figure that maybe I wouldn't be doing anything back at the mansion, anyways, so why not follow him across the country and watch him fuck every damn girl who throws herself at him?
What the hell am I doing here? What was I thinking when I said 'yes'? I felt the corners of my lips curl into a wry, derisive smile as I answered my own question: "I thought maybe he wanted it to be me. And I'm mad, now, because I wanted it to be me."
With a sigh, I unlocked the driver's side door to my jeep, climbed inside, closed the door, and sat back in the seat, making myself comfortable. I needed to think.
I wanted all those girls to be me. I want to be that blonde in there with him right now. Why can't it be me?
Slumping forward over the wheel, I giggled feeling suddenly delirious when the horn honked and I had a sudden image of Logan lying in bed, his cute little ears perking up at the noise. God, what I wouldn't give to be the one lying there next to him right now.
I know it probably doesn't reflect well on me. I mean, the guy's in there fucking someone else as I speak and here I am wishing it was me. Wouldn't any smart woman go stomping in there and make it happen? I'd go in there and I'd grab that blonde chick by the hair and fling her off my man and just let him take me. Or, at the very least, I'd take off right now instead of just sitting here waiting for her to leave like I'm doing.
He knows I won't leave--that's why he hasn't come out to see what the noise was. Or maybe he just doesn't care whether or not I leave.
Why don't I hate him? I don't understand. I mean, I know we're not together. We've always had this brother/sister type of relationship where he looks out for me and we just hang out together and have fun. But why can't he see that I want more than that? I don't see him as a brother. I see him as a man--I always have. Hell, maybe he just doesn't care. He has to know. He's got those enhanced senses of his. He knows. Bastard.
Lifting my head from the steering wheel, I sat back in my seat, adjusted the rear-view mirror and put the key in the ignition. It's been three years. If he hasn't gotten it by now, then he never will.
Turning the key, I listened as the engine turned over, gripped the steering wheel, and pulled out onto the main road. I didn't know where I was gonna go, but leaving Las Vegas, for good, seemed as good a move as any.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never have, never will--I just like to play with 'em; especially Logan ;p