Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Romy (Remy/Rogue)
Challenge/Prompt: 1_million_words A to Z: R
Word Count: 505
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
He watches her flying high above the city and stands riveted, caught in the moment, unable to tear his eyes away from her. She's always been the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, but he never could have guessed the changes their lives would take. She warned him so many times that they would part. They couldn't last forever. He'd refused to listen, but in the end, she'd been right.
He rarely sees her these days, except in his dreams; every time he closes his red eyes, she's there, dancing, flying, smiling on the backs of his eyelids. But in reality, he sees her so rarely. Even when he does, it's usually on the news, or in moments passing by like now. They no longer share a life. They no longer share anything, except for their memories and pasts.
He closes his eyes when she disappears, so that she's still there, smiling at him in the recesses of his mind. With his eyes closed, the world can not see his tears, and although they do not fall down his face, he feels the track of every one of them. He misses her so much, but there's nothing he can do. Their lives are simply no longer together.
They're not even a part of the same team any more. Neither of them are still with the X-Men. She's with a different team now, and he . . . He's alone again as so often he has been. They have no family, no friends. They no longer have each other, and that hurts more than anything else.
Her name's poised on the tip of his tongue. He could call her. It would do no good now, but she might have heard him before. Even if she had, though, Remy knows it wouldn't have mattered. She doesn't want him. She doesn't love him. She's chosen the life she wants, and the path she's chosen no longer includes the X-Men or himself.
Rogue. Her chosen name whispers through his mind. She always was a Rogue, he realizes, a runaway. There were so many times he wanted to tell her to stop running away from life and to run to him instead. There were so many times he almost did. Perhaps he should have.
He opens his eyes, blows out a frustrated breath, and turns away from where he last saw her. That wouldn't have done any good, either. The girl runs. She runs from her family, both of them. She runs from her past. She runs from him, and no matter what he does or says, it's never going to matter. She's always going to run, and in the end, he's always going to walk alone. Head bowed, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his trench, Remy trudges back in the direction from whence he's just come, feeling the cold of the New York Winter that's setting in in his bones for the first time that season and saying a mental goodbye to his little runaway yet again.