TOUCH
**********
Speech...A mute's whim.
Sound...A deaf's fantasy.
Sight...A blind's dream.
Touch...
The simple feel of comforting hands. The pure warmth of uncovered skin. The soft brush of a lover's lips. Denied.
In the world of humans she was a genetic failure. Unnatural. Monsterous. Alone.
In the world of mutants she was a total outcast. Deadly. Cursed. Alone.
Her power was one of the greatest. To take your deepest memories. To snatch your power. To steal your life.
With
One
Touch.
An appearance that rebelled against her power. Entrancing emerald eyes. Long auburn waves that cascaded down her back, oddly even more striking with the twin white streaks that made her stand out in a sea of females. Soft milk skin, waiting to be touched. Plump reddened lips, begging to be kissed. Dangerous curves that turned heads everywhere she went. only to be ignored once they met her harsh, knife-like personality, or even worse, once they found out. Once they knew who, or rather what she was.
Feared by many, outcast to all. She was a complete opposite to all the women he had ever had or been attracted to. Maybe that was one of the reasons he couldn't get her out of his mind. Or maybe it was the simple fact that she could never wholly be his. The fact that just being with her was like dancing with death itself. A gamble that could cost his very life if it went out of hand. but then again, as his nick-name showed, he was never one to refuse to take a chance, however dangerous the consequences. Yet for once he was questioning himself on that. Was this too deep even for him? For once, what he was risking was his property, more precious to him than anything could be. Something that had been broken before and had been re-forged to make him harder.
She was meant to be his conquest, just a game as all the others had been. Well all the others except for that bitch. ~*Belladonna*~ His brow furrowed as his fine features twisted in disgust at the memory of her. Her name mirrored her nature. The poisonous night-shade that stung him deep with treachery and betrayal. Her love of him was a façade, that fell apart once he found out her in another mans arms. He knew then that the only thing that mattered to her was her guild, her power that she would have obtained had the two of them married, power over both assasins and thieves. He couldn't believe he was willing to place his family under the rule of such a cold calculating person. What was more unbelievable was that he himself had fallen into her charms.
They had been friends once. a long time ago, before greed had ever cast a shadow over their lives. Then as they grew up he had started to fall for her slowly, from afar ofcourse - as they both met other people - since he was afraid of losing their friendship. Once that he had found out that they were to be bethrothed he had had no qualms about it, finding it as an excuse to show her his true feelings. She had seemed to respond to it in kind though. until after the wedding. It had felt as if someone had dropped a brick wall between the two of them. Her previously warm demeoner had cooled down excessively, her attitude to him constantly changing abrubtly, usually for the worse. Yet even throughout this he had kept on at the relationship, bending over backwards to give her her way rather than break it off. Then he had found her. And him. Together. It was simple to say that it was the last straw. Or perhaps to beaccurate maybe it wasn't completely. No, the final straw would have to have been what she had said after. Her face had remained impassive, not a trace of regret or sorrow on her face, it seemed that for the first time Remy had seen her for what she was. As he had stormed out in silence she had called after him in a mocking voice;
"Chirst, stop with the pathetic mood Rems. You didn't really think that our marriage was anything more than a peace treaty for the guilds did you. I mean we're 17, as if love could exist in out lives! And anyway, its not like you didn't look around, after all it would be *so* you."
It would forever remain a mystery when this transformation from a lively girl to a unfeeling woman had taken place. Maybe it was recent, but as painful as it was to admit, he had a nagging feeling it had been going on for a long time now, and it had simply been that he had been too blinded by love to notice. After hearing those words he had felt as if his whole body had turned to glass and just shattered. He didn't even bother correcting her, telling her that to him this marriage had mattered, and that, he of all people, Remy the player, the charmer, 'le Diable Blanc', had not strayed, and even worse, had been fool enough to believe in love.
******************************************
'Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to it's delight,
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'
*******************************************
She was meant to be a conquest, but now he was scared she was becoming much more than that. How could something so deadly entrance him so? And why on earth could he not get her out of his mind? Twice. They had only met twice. Yet there was some strange feeling that nagged the back of his mind, telling him it had been much longer that that. For some reason that thought made him recall a recent phone call to his home. He had wanted to tell his father and brother that he was well, but instead Mercy, his sister-in-law, had picked up and as he waited for his father to finish a meeting that he was in, she had kept going on about some movie she had seen, recounting her favourite scenes to Remy's amusement, or rather, his horror once he found out it was a romance flick. One phrase stood out in his mind from her vague ramblings;
". et les hommes dans la photo dirent « Elle amoureuse. » Et il réplique « Je ne connais même pas. » Puis les hommes dirent « Bien sur toi as connaissent ! » Et quand-il demande les hommes « Depuis quand ? » Quel-ils répliquent c'est très adorable ! « Depuis toujours- » Et ma favorite moment, une d'entre eux dit, « -Dans te rêve. » C'est parfait, non ? Ah, je désir ton stupide frère aux dits quelque chose de même a moi !
{"...and the men in the photo said "She's in love. "
And he replies, " I don't even know her. "
Then the men said "Ofcourse you do ! "
And when he asks the men, "Since when?"
What they say back is sooo adorable; "Since forever...",
and my favourite moment; one of them adds, "....in your dreams".
Its perfect isnt it? Ah, i wish your stupid brother would say something like that to me!"}
Between Mercy's lengthy side comments he couldn't help but wonder whether the same thing could be explicable to his current state. After all he was a dreamer not unlike the guy in the film... but instead of collecting footprints and photos, he collected, to put it simply, women. Yet the women he usually 'collected' were usually the same type, beautiful, sensual and extremely pleasing in bed. But she was different. He would be the first to admit that it was never beauty that reigned him in. Sure she was stunning, but ofcoarse this could only probably be found under ten pounds of make-up and a further ten thousand layers of attitude. He was lucky to have 'mistakenly' run into Pietro's room and 'accidently' rifled through the speed demon's privy of junk; his sharp eyes catching an old brotherhood picture of her, caught by Pietro just as she came out of the bathroom after a shower. To put it simply, the only thing that Remy - probably the greatest connoisseur of women, in the world - could find to complain about the picture was that there was still a towel wrapped around her. The second time he had seen her without her mask was when he had broken into the mansion where she stayed and watched her as she slept. She had looked so peaceful, her chest rising softly, a soft curl framing her face, which was haloed softly by a stream of moonlight. A picture of innocence and of purity. An angel. At that moment he had just wanted to stay there forever, wanted to be near her, to worship and adore her forever. But the same thought had nagged his mind then as i did now.
Demons and angels cannot mix.
And he was the perfect picture of a demon. Even got the eyes to complete his stained soul, and his devilish good looks. He sighed and shook his head in frustration. Even if she did feel something more than lust towards him, was it fair on him to try and make anything out of whatever lay between them? Would she know exactly what she would be falling for? He didn't think he could take anymore of this unrequited love business. He was used at women falling to his feet, baring their hearts to him, never the other way around...
The sound of a window latch snapping open broke through his thoughts. And suddenly there she was. A breath caught into his throat. If it was possible she seemed to be even more beautiful than he remembered, hair streaming in the wind, face make-up free, illuminated by the moon. She tossed out some pieces of paper that fluttered down slowly to the ground. Remy made a point of where they had fallen then looked up again. Then he noticed. The soft stream of tears that fell slowly down her pale cheek. He wanted more than anything to wipe them away, to hold her and comfort her; then she did the job for him, much more roughly than he woud have he thought wryly. Her eyes closed as she took several deep breaths, then reopened to see... him. He met her warm emerald eyes with his own burning red for a split second, and then leapt away out of her sight, his heart pounding. He waited until he heard the snap of the window closing, then he swiftly made his way across the lawn, unseen, walking in shadows. His hands closed on the papers she had flung out, and realised what they were. Cards. His cards. He sighed as he recalled her tears.
He had decided.
It was obvious that he had hurt her. Even more obvious that had she harboured any feeling for him before, they were probably floating away with the wind, half-way across the world by now. He would still have to apologise though. As much of a heart-breaker as he was, he did pride himself on being a gentlemen about it. The women he usually played around with were either those who deserved it or those who were exactly like him, simply looking for a quickie. Guilt was not an emotion Remy liked much, or rather, not one he liked at all. And watching her cry had caused a pang of guilt to spear through him. He sighed again as he sped off into the night, his thoughts resolved. Yes he would apologise. Then he would have to get her out of his head. As the memory of the deep pools of her eyes meeting his emerged, he groaned. This would definitely be a challenge, that for once, he would not be looking forward too. So instead he let his mind travel back to that night. When they were dancing. When she was in his arms, warm and wanting. When he thought he still saw something in those eyes. Something that could be called.... love.
*******************************************
'Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives it ease,
And builds a heaven in hells despair.'
********************************************
AN:- HAPPY NEW YEARRR!!!!!! *grins madly* sour skittles for everyone!!! (special invisible chocolate chip cookies in the post for all reviewees!!) eckk.hope this chap isn't too bad, im writing this at 2 in the morning ^_^ *yawn* ~ This chap is for:- vagabond, evolutionary spider, ishadahalf, race baj, starlightz6, j.dax, catnip, sujakata, lyrit liltrick and ginger, thanx for reviewin! [Err catnip, soz mate, but this fic is basically pretty plotless unless u think that a little plotless rogue-remy fic has some sorta plot. heh, I actually encorporated song lyrics to the first two chaps but when u sed poetry I thought hell why not? Thus the little excerpts from William Blake's 'The clod and the pebble' .] btw, the french movie mentioned above was none other than 'Amelie'. well big smooches to all readers!! Pls review! I kno I still need to improve but reviews would help the improvement process! Again, hope u have a great new year! Luv linkin~
(ps BIG APOLOGY for the French. I know its probably all wrong but I am not French. The French above is the French of a 14 yr old non-french person. Its not perfect. I know. Massive apologies again!! Toodles!)
**********
Speech...A mute's whim.
Sound...A deaf's fantasy.
Sight...A blind's dream.
Touch...
The simple feel of comforting hands. The pure warmth of uncovered skin. The soft brush of a lover's lips. Denied.
In the world of humans she was a genetic failure. Unnatural. Monsterous. Alone.
In the world of mutants she was a total outcast. Deadly. Cursed. Alone.
Her power was one of the greatest. To take your deepest memories. To snatch your power. To steal your life.
With
One
Touch.
An appearance that rebelled against her power. Entrancing emerald eyes. Long auburn waves that cascaded down her back, oddly even more striking with the twin white streaks that made her stand out in a sea of females. Soft milk skin, waiting to be touched. Plump reddened lips, begging to be kissed. Dangerous curves that turned heads everywhere she went. only to be ignored once they met her harsh, knife-like personality, or even worse, once they found out. Once they knew who, or rather what she was.
Feared by many, outcast to all. She was a complete opposite to all the women he had ever had or been attracted to. Maybe that was one of the reasons he couldn't get her out of his mind. Or maybe it was the simple fact that she could never wholly be his. The fact that just being with her was like dancing with death itself. A gamble that could cost his very life if it went out of hand. but then again, as his nick-name showed, he was never one to refuse to take a chance, however dangerous the consequences. Yet for once he was questioning himself on that. Was this too deep even for him? For once, what he was risking was his property, more precious to him than anything could be. Something that had been broken before and had been re-forged to make him harder.
She was meant to be his conquest, just a game as all the others had been. Well all the others except for that bitch. ~*Belladonna*~ His brow furrowed as his fine features twisted in disgust at the memory of her. Her name mirrored her nature. The poisonous night-shade that stung him deep with treachery and betrayal. Her love of him was a façade, that fell apart once he found out her in another mans arms. He knew then that the only thing that mattered to her was her guild, her power that she would have obtained had the two of them married, power over both assasins and thieves. He couldn't believe he was willing to place his family under the rule of such a cold calculating person. What was more unbelievable was that he himself had fallen into her charms.
They had been friends once. a long time ago, before greed had ever cast a shadow over their lives. Then as they grew up he had started to fall for her slowly, from afar ofcourse - as they both met other people - since he was afraid of losing their friendship. Once that he had found out that they were to be bethrothed he had had no qualms about it, finding it as an excuse to show her his true feelings. She had seemed to respond to it in kind though. until after the wedding. It had felt as if someone had dropped a brick wall between the two of them. Her previously warm demeoner had cooled down excessively, her attitude to him constantly changing abrubtly, usually for the worse. Yet even throughout this he had kept on at the relationship, bending over backwards to give her her way rather than break it off. Then he had found her. And him. Together. It was simple to say that it was the last straw. Or perhaps to beaccurate maybe it wasn't completely. No, the final straw would have to have been what she had said after. Her face had remained impassive, not a trace of regret or sorrow on her face, it seemed that for the first time Remy had seen her for what she was. As he had stormed out in silence she had called after him in a mocking voice;
"Chirst, stop with the pathetic mood Rems. You didn't really think that our marriage was anything more than a peace treaty for the guilds did you. I mean we're 17, as if love could exist in out lives! And anyway, its not like you didn't look around, after all it would be *so* you."
It would forever remain a mystery when this transformation from a lively girl to a unfeeling woman had taken place. Maybe it was recent, but as painful as it was to admit, he had a nagging feeling it had been going on for a long time now, and it had simply been that he had been too blinded by love to notice. After hearing those words he had felt as if his whole body had turned to glass and just shattered. He didn't even bother correcting her, telling her that to him this marriage had mattered, and that, he of all people, Remy the player, the charmer, 'le Diable Blanc', had not strayed, and even worse, had been fool enough to believe in love.
******************************************
'Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to it's delight,
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'
*******************************************
She was meant to be a conquest, but now he was scared she was becoming much more than that. How could something so deadly entrance him so? And why on earth could he not get her out of his mind? Twice. They had only met twice. Yet there was some strange feeling that nagged the back of his mind, telling him it had been much longer that that. For some reason that thought made him recall a recent phone call to his home. He had wanted to tell his father and brother that he was well, but instead Mercy, his sister-in-law, had picked up and as he waited for his father to finish a meeting that he was in, she had kept going on about some movie she had seen, recounting her favourite scenes to Remy's amusement, or rather, his horror once he found out it was a romance flick. One phrase stood out in his mind from her vague ramblings;
". et les hommes dans la photo dirent « Elle amoureuse. » Et il réplique « Je ne connais même pas. » Puis les hommes dirent « Bien sur toi as connaissent ! » Et quand-il demande les hommes « Depuis quand ? » Quel-ils répliquent c'est très adorable ! « Depuis toujours- » Et ma favorite moment, une d'entre eux dit, « -Dans te rêve. » C'est parfait, non ? Ah, je désir ton stupide frère aux dits quelque chose de même a moi !
{"...and the men in the photo said "She's in love. "
And he replies, " I don't even know her. "
Then the men said "Ofcourse you do ! "
And when he asks the men, "Since when?"
What they say back is sooo adorable; "Since forever...",
and my favourite moment; one of them adds, "....in your dreams".
Its perfect isnt it? Ah, i wish your stupid brother would say something like that to me!"}
Between Mercy's lengthy side comments he couldn't help but wonder whether the same thing could be explicable to his current state. After all he was a dreamer not unlike the guy in the film... but instead of collecting footprints and photos, he collected, to put it simply, women. Yet the women he usually 'collected' were usually the same type, beautiful, sensual and extremely pleasing in bed. But she was different. He would be the first to admit that it was never beauty that reigned him in. Sure she was stunning, but ofcoarse this could only probably be found under ten pounds of make-up and a further ten thousand layers of attitude. He was lucky to have 'mistakenly' run into Pietro's room and 'accidently' rifled through the speed demon's privy of junk; his sharp eyes catching an old brotherhood picture of her, caught by Pietro just as she came out of the bathroom after a shower. To put it simply, the only thing that Remy - probably the greatest connoisseur of women, in the world - could find to complain about the picture was that there was still a towel wrapped around her. The second time he had seen her without her mask was when he had broken into the mansion where she stayed and watched her as she slept. She had looked so peaceful, her chest rising softly, a soft curl framing her face, which was haloed softly by a stream of moonlight. A picture of innocence and of purity. An angel. At that moment he had just wanted to stay there forever, wanted to be near her, to worship and adore her forever. But the same thought had nagged his mind then as i did now.
Demons and angels cannot mix.
And he was the perfect picture of a demon. Even got the eyes to complete his stained soul, and his devilish good looks. He sighed and shook his head in frustration. Even if she did feel something more than lust towards him, was it fair on him to try and make anything out of whatever lay between them? Would she know exactly what she would be falling for? He didn't think he could take anymore of this unrequited love business. He was used at women falling to his feet, baring their hearts to him, never the other way around...
The sound of a window latch snapping open broke through his thoughts. And suddenly there she was. A breath caught into his throat. If it was possible she seemed to be even more beautiful than he remembered, hair streaming in the wind, face make-up free, illuminated by the moon. She tossed out some pieces of paper that fluttered down slowly to the ground. Remy made a point of where they had fallen then looked up again. Then he noticed. The soft stream of tears that fell slowly down her pale cheek. He wanted more than anything to wipe them away, to hold her and comfort her; then she did the job for him, much more roughly than he woud have he thought wryly. Her eyes closed as she took several deep breaths, then reopened to see... him. He met her warm emerald eyes with his own burning red for a split second, and then leapt away out of her sight, his heart pounding. He waited until he heard the snap of the window closing, then he swiftly made his way across the lawn, unseen, walking in shadows. His hands closed on the papers she had flung out, and realised what they were. Cards. His cards. He sighed as he recalled her tears.
He had decided.
It was obvious that he had hurt her. Even more obvious that had she harboured any feeling for him before, they were probably floating away with the wind, half-way across the world by now. He would still have to apologise though. As much of a heart-breaker as he was, he did pride himself on being a gentlemen about it. The women he usually played around with were either those who deserved it or those who were exactly like him, simply looking for a quickie. Guilt was not an emotion Remy liked much, or rather, not one he liked at all. And watching her cry had caused a pang of guilt to spear through him. He sighed again as he sped off into the night, his thoughts resolved. Yes he would apologise. Then he would have to get her out of his head. As the memory of the deep pools of her eyes meeting his emerged, he groaned. This would definitely be a challenge, that for once, he would not be looking forward too. So instead he let his mind travel back to that night. When they were dancing. When she was in his arms, warm and wanting. When he thought he still saw something in those eyes. Something that could be called.... love.
*******************************************
'Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives it ease,
And builds a heaven in hells despair.'
********************************************
AN:- HAPPY NEW YEARRR!!!!!! *grins madly* sour skittles for everyone!!! (special invisible chocolate chip cookies in the post for all reviewees!!) eckk.hope this chap isn't too bad, im writing this at 2 in the morning ^_^ *yawn* ~ This chap is for:- vagabond, evolutionary spider, ishadahalf, race baj, starlightz6, j.dax, catnip, sujakata, lyrit liltrick and ginger, thanx for reviewin! [Err catnip, soz mate, but this fic is basically pretty plotless unless u think that a little plotless rogue-remy fic has some sorta plot. heh, I actually encorporated song lyrics to the first two chaps but when u sed poetry I thought hell why not? Thus the little excerpts from William Blake's 'The clod and the pebble' .] btw, the french movie mentioned above was none other than 'Amelie'. well big smooches to all readers!! Pls review! I kno I still need to improve but reviews would help the improvement process! Again, hope u have a great new year! Luv linkin~
(ps BIG APOLOGY for the French. I know its probably all wrong but I am not French. The French above is the French of a 14 yr old non-french person. Its not perfect. I know. Massive apologies again!! Toodles!)