Whispers

 
 

The Dance

She doesn't let him kiss her.

That is the first thing he notices from his position at the end of the hall.

The Wolverine had barely given him a sniff when he showed up at the mansion, merely shrugged and said same room as before.

The same room.

He wanted to hurt something.

Instead, he finds himself standing here at the end of the hall, witnessing the end of her date as she smiles, says her goodbyes, and steps quietly into th- her room.

His fist clenches. He won't do this. He won't.

He walks away, past the Wolverine again, who barely gives him a sniff.

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Warm air nearly suffocates her when she finally slides her tired body into the room she used to share with him. The moon is high and shining in through the balcony. The bed is queen-sized, a mockery.

She sinks to the floor as soon as she is in the door. She has said goodnight to her dancing partner and said goodbye to her pitiful attempts to move on. Her hair falls into her face, across her eyes, in a mishmash of color and lines, obscuring her view of the room.

A cool breeze blows in through the window left open by the balcony doors. The feel of wind against her hot skin beckons to her.

How many nights did she spend wrapped up in a lover's arms, no touch, no kisses on her poison skin, dancing on the balcony outside her window?

She stands. Her hand grips tighter the frame of the door and she looks out upon the night.

She sways softly toward the bedside and slips a CD out of its jacket and into the player. She keeps the volume low, the lights off, and moves toward the balcony doors.

He sees her. A dancing figure gently swaying on the balcony before the open doors as what once was his favorite song glides out into the warmth of this starry night.

His almost blind, angry walk slows to nothing and his eyes run over her hurriedly, urgently. He tries to sear the vision into his memory.

Eyes closed, head tilted softly back as she hums to the music and hugs herself, the gloves removed, her porcelain skin gleaming in the moonlight. The impossibly dark strands of hair embrace her face, the white ones fall away.

He is frozen by the sight of her dancing.

Not for long.

His eyes narrow. His mouth tightens. He hesitates only a moment before deciding what he will do.

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She hadn't expected him to come, but when her eyes drift open for a moment, they stay that way. Her dancing slows, arrests. She steps back and reaches out a hand to catch the door, considering retreat.

Red eyes burn in the darkness at the edge of the balcony, studying her, staring at her. He is here. He is all too real, all too close. She can almost feel the heat from his body, see the tension dancing in the muscles of his shoulders beneath the Armani suit.

"Remy," she breathes.

Pain flickers in his eyes at that and suddenly, he steps away from the edge and with one hand catches her and pulls her to him. Her body comes tight against his. His arms wrap around her and he slides one white-gloved hand into her hair, tilting her head back and meeting her eyes with his.

So close. Her heart beats erratically. He is hard and strong. She could not escape if she wanted to.

Does she want to?

His eyes glitter, brighten about the crimson iris. The color of pain, she thought once. The color of fire. The color of jewels gleaming out of darkness. The color of blood.

"Rogue," he whispers and lowers his head to hers.

"Remy," she protests, pushing at his shoulders.

But there is no give. He kisses her, softly, and she cannot help but kiss him back. He pulls away almost before he has begun, and she stares at him, eyes impossibly wide and breathing hard.

Why does he risk so much?

"Dance with me."

Is it a question? she wonders.

He cocks his head in that way he has always had, his smirk small, but inviting. She knows she could never resist. She nestles her head against his chest, feeling the warmth of his hand touch the small of her back. Her hand finds his other one. His breath ruffles her hair.

They dance.

Like nothing ever went wrong. Like she had never left to keep him safe. Like he had never looked at her with those eyes of blood, betrayed by the only one who had claimed to love him unconditionally. They dance.

And for now, it is enough.
 


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