We're not outta this yet (ota)

[marauding_miss]

For the most part, Rogue was not a social creature. By pure survival instinct, she closed herself off to a lot of things, and making friends was one of them. She had a few friends, just a few. A handful maybe. Of course, Spokane and then the illness, that shot all of that in the foot with a gallon of buck shot and a few sticks of TNT

Comments

[movetheearth]

"My Padre, he smoked a pipe. I can still smell it now, remember sitting in his lap when I was little and watching him as he signed paperwork and dealt with phone calls in his office. The smell of tobacco and pipes reminds me of him, cigars too, but those were for special occasions only." Ric sets down another newly rolled cigarette next to Rogue's and picks up another filter paper, resuming the task.

"Lorna was right, you were dealing with having me in your head and being sick... and I wasn't helping things by yelling." Ric spits a bit of errant tobacco out and takes a draw from his cigarette. Hearing it like this, that Rogue is worried about him makes Ric feel guilty. Scuffing his boot along the step, he watches the hazy swirl of smoke a it rises up from his cigarette and dissipate. "I know. I can't take back what I said either but Rogue I'm fine. Look, all that stuff you were dealing with from me, well you've not had the years to get over it. Accept that it's a part of you and get on with it. It's alright, I understand that now

[movetheearth]

He manages to resist the urge to comment about Rogue touching his stuff, it's stupid, irrational really but ever since their falling out Ric's felt a little off around Rogue. I mean it's understandable really but he can't help the feeling that bubbles up from the pit of his stomach. Turning his back so what he can't see won't annoy him, Ric grabs clothing, comics, magazines, books and playing cards up off of the floor

[marauding_miss]

She stops moving, turning to face him. Naturally, she's a little hurt, it doesn't take much to see it. She's been picking up after him since they met, and it was never an issue for either of them. She didn't care that he was messy, because it was simple to just clean up. They shared space, they shared a cot for months. So it was hardly a thought process to just help him.

"Y' know, Ah'm not really hungry f'r candy." Because he might be annoyed, but there's this ridiculous little voice in her head trying to goad her into a fight, and just hearing his voice might be enough to push that. "Y' should jus' keep it all for y'r boy."

How the hell they were supposed to get back to whatever when he wasn't going to talk she didn't know. But she wasn't prepared to just stand there and pretend it didn't hurt. "Ah'll see y' 'round, Julio." She left the pile of folded clothes where they were and just walked through the door heading for the stairs to her own room rather than outside.