It had been a long day, Rogue reflected as she entered her room. She quickly stripped off her sweat-soaked workout clothes, grimacing a little at the smell. At least practicing all of her newly-won skills in what was left of the Danger Room made her favorite pastime all the more necessary. Reveling a little in her own bare skin, she opened the other door in her room and stepped into her bathroom.
Humming a little, Rogue turned the shower on full blast. She hurried to step into the torrent of water, relishing the silken feel. She quickly shampooed her hair, rinsed it, and applied conditioner. Soaping up and rinsing hair and body were accomplished with a minimum of fuss. After all of the necessary items were finished, she could simply relax.
Scalding hot water pulsed around her, shrouding her in steam and heat. Rogue reveled in the feel of every drop, knowing that this time would come to an end soon enough. The humid air had become her haven, the perfect retreat where she could hide away once or twice a day. After all, no one was likely to bother her here. She was sure that everyone else viewed this sanctuary of hers as a death trap.
Of course, the ironic part was that the small bathroom attached to the room she now shared with no one was as free of danger as any other bathroom. No, she was the sure death that everyone tried so hard to avoid. In this one place, she was able to expose every inch of her lethal skin without worrying what anyone might say.
As the water streamed over her upturned face, Rogue wondered if, just sometimes, everyone wished that she would wear a mask as well as layer upon layer of suffocating clothing. After all, her face was just as dangerous as the rest of her. She knew that there were times when she did wish for a mask; as if that might solve everything, make everyone comfortable around her.
Not likely, sugar, she thought to herself with a deep sigh.
Rogue turned around and let the water cascade down her back as she stared blankly at the white tile across from her. It was so painful, even after all this time, to find those who were supposed to know her, know that she wouldn’t hurt them, moving away an inch or two when she would come over to sit or stand next to them. There was only one person that she knew felt truly comfortable in her presence, and he was too busy mourning, as they all were, to be very good company these days.
She didn’t know why life had to be such a struggle for mutants. It seemed like before, when she hadn’t known she was a mutant, her life had gone by so easily, one pleasant day usually followed by another. Once her abilities had manifested, each day was more difficult to survive than the last. It only got worse as the years went by.
Finally, the water began to cool. Rogue had, as always, spent a little too long thinking during her shower. She turned the faucet to the right, reveling in the feel of the warm metal against her skin. There were so few times that she was actually able to let anything touch her skin. These days, she even slept with gloves on, fearful of another emergency in the middle of the night. She learned her lessons well.
The bathroom was enveloped in steam as she opened the shower door and stepped out onto the soft red rug that was one of the only splashes of color in the room. She turned her head to the right, contemplating the woman in the mirror for a long minute. White flesh that obviously never saw the light of day glistening, dark hair slicked back so that the streak of white was mixed in with the rest, she didn’t look like a young girl anymore. Rogue had grown up so much since coming to the Professor’s school. She just wasn’t sure that she liked what she had become.
The dark eyes of the woman in the mirror stared back sadly at her for a moment longer, and Rogue was the only one who would ever know that the wetness on her cheeks wasn’t just from her shower.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
A/N #1: All right, everyone. I have debated on posting this. It's not that it isn't well-written. Having written almost six chapters of it in the time pre-X3, it was almost like reading someone else's writing, so I can acknowledge with very little conceit (I swear!) that what is written so far is good. However, like many post-X3-trailer and pre/post-X3 fanfic authors, I went with the "cure" as the main thing this whole plotline spun around. Then, when it got to the point that I was ignoring the fic, I noticed that a LOT of people were doing similar things. I don't like "done to death." Still, if you don't mind that it's been done (and done, and DONE), you might enjoy this. It is very much a WIP, and I am hoping that the same magic which infected me once I actually got around to posting "Something That We Do" will infect me with this, too, and push me into finishing it. In my own, very humble (uh-huh, just nod) opinion, the descriptions are scrumptious.
A/N #2: It's not that Logan's not in this one. It's just that I get really tired of the damsel in distress story line sometimes. I'm just saying. You'll have to read it to understand. Now, before my A/N's get any longer than the story...
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Please don't make me say it again. It hurts. (It hurts even more what was done by those who do own 'em, but we won't go there.)
A/N #2: It's not that Logan's not in this one. It's just that I get really tired of the damsel in distress story line sometimes. I'm just saying. You'll have to read it to understand. Now, before my A/N's get any longer than the story...
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Please don't make me say it again. It hurts. (It hurts even more what was done by those who do own 'em, but we won't go there.)
Author's Chapter Notes:
So here's a little voyeuristic shower scene. Yeah, I know, I must have issues after "Eavesdrop," right? Only this came way before that one... :-)
Chapter End Notes:
And on to the actual story... ;-)