Fic: Handholding (X-Men)
Jul. 3rd, 2008 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Handholding
Fandom: X-Men movieverse
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Bobby/Marie
Word Count: 213
Summary: Why Marie loves holding hands.
What Marie missed most was the warmth. She was never so cold as when she was bundled in layers of clothes. Untouched. When she was alone, she sought out ghosts, the warmth left by a person when they’d stood up from a chair or taken off a coat. Whenever Logan took off his jacket and ditched it, she pulled it around her like a blanket. If she was fast enough, it was almost like they could occupy the same space.
It was mortifying when Bobby caught her drowning in Logan’s jacket. He’d taken it well, like it was a harmless eccentricity, a cute bit of hero worship. But it felt to her like she was cheating on him. The next morning, she tried to explain things to him. She missed the blood running through capillaries, the sweat dotting pores, all the miniscule things that most people couldn’t even quantify. That was when he’d reached over and touched her wrist just above the glove.
She barely took enough energy to trip him up, but with it came memories. His mother scratching his back as she’d sung him a lullaby, roughhousing with his brother, kissing Rogue, a tidbit of a fantasy of them. It made her blush warmly.
And that’s why Marie loves holding hands.
Fandom: X-Men movieverse
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Bobby/Marie
Word Count: 213
Summary: Why Marie loves holding hands.
What Marie missed most was the warmth. She was never so cold as when she was bundled in layers of clothes. Untouched. When she was alone, she sought out ghosts, the warmth left by a person when they’d stood up from a chair or taken off a coat. Whenever Logan took off his jacket and ditched it, she pulled it around her like a blanket. If she was fast enough, it was almost like they could occupy the same space.
It was mortifying when Bobby caught her drowning in Logan’s jacket. He’d taken it well, like it was a harmless eccentricity, a cute bit of hero worship. But it felt to her like she was cheating on him. The next morning, she tried to explain things to him. She missed the blood running through capillaries, the sweat dotting pores, all the miniscule things that most people couldn’t even quantify. That was when he’d reached over and touched her wrist just above the glove.
She barely took enough energy to trip him up, but with it came memories. His mother scratching his back as she’d sung him a lullaby, roughhousing with his brother, kissing Rogue, a tidbit of a fantasy of them. It made her blush warmly.
And that’s why Marie loves holding hands.
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-03 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-07 11:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-11 08:33 am (UTC)Wow, that was good.
I have to reiterate 'roguecatwoman' when I say that you had me at the first paragraph.
Although I don't ship B/R, this was an insightful vignette into Rogue's behavioural habits.
Thank you for sharing! ♥
~Eva