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❛ rogue ... can't you forgive me ? I'll be better , I'll ... I'll show you that im worth every headache I cause . Please . ❜

Rogue's eyes are still sleep tinged when she meets him at the door, all slow blinks as his fuzzy form starts to focus. a blanket is wrapped tightly around her body, her mane of curls domesticated neatly into two plaits, and she stares with both pity and exhaustion. " thing is honey," and her voice is a warm rasp, " this ain't the first time ah've heard them words from that mouth of yers." nor the second. rogue never had any fantasies about the type of man wade was - yet there seemed to be a determination at this point to prove he could do nothing but push her breaking point.

"y'ain't bad sugah. you jus' think you are. and then you go on and do bad things cause it's easier to listen to that voice than believe someone could love the good in you." there is no judgement in her tone, for this battle is one she's fought too. a brotherhood mentality that stuck like glue well into her time with the x-men – this feeling that bad was all she was ever capable of. that bad was a bloodstain on white linen she just couldn't scrub off. but drowning in a tide of guilt & shame never did anyone good – and wade seemed too comfortable with his misery.

#yo wtf.#i actually hatet them.