kineticcajun | Appointments

[continued from here

It was, it was infuriating. But that wasn't hard. Everything about him was infuriating right now. So she just turned and tried the door again. Anything was better than just the silence - if she stayed in there much longer, she'd have ended up throwing the coats at him.

Unfortunately, this time when she opens the door she stumbles backwards (possibly into him, if he catches her?) and bright daylight streams in. The ocean is hundreds of feet below them.]

Edited 2012-08-08 00:38 (UTC)

[While Remy does catch her more or less out of reflex, he doesn't immediately let go once he spots that drop down into the ocean. Heights aren't a problem. And he knows Rogue has an excellent sense of balance most of the time. But that doesn't mean he doesn't trust the Hell Closet not to try to tip her out the doorway, either.

Although once he's sure that this won't be the case, he does let go. But there's an awkward moment in there in which he's pretty sure he's just digging his own grave even more.

In spite of that, though, he manages to brush past the surprise at the ocean being so far below and grumbles in a flat tone.]

Gettin' worse wit' time, ain't it.

[And then they're touching. And she can feel the heat of him through their clothes. His grip is firm, and she doesn't struggle, because her heart is caught in her throat and it's beating a thousand miles a minute, and it's not just because she's staring at long, long drop.

When he lets her go, she curses her body and how it wants to lean in to him, towards his touch. And she doesn't dare look back at him, because the scab's ripped off and she's angry, she's so, so angry that he dared show her something like happiness, something like acceptance, and for it all to be a lie.]

The damn thing swings open outwards.

[Which means the two of them are going to have to figure out a way to grab hold of it and close it unless they want a gaping hole on the "floor" of their closet.]

[Gaping hole is definitely not a good idea. Gambit eyes the open door thoughtfully, noting with no small amount of irritation that the wind keeps pushing it a little closer and then obnoxiously far out of reach. He has good balance, yes, but he's not all that confident he can balance on the very edge of the closet with one foot while stretching out for the doorknob.

But they can't just leave it open. Aside from the freaky view, he has an itching suspicion that they'll just stay hanging over the ocean forever if they don't shut the door.

As the breeze pushes the door as far open as it'll go again, he glances over at her. She might not go for this, but hey...]

I can prob'ly get it closed, but I'll need a hand.

[Literally. A steadying hand so he doesn't overbalance right off the edge and into the ocean.]

[Logically speaking, she's lighter than he is. So she should be the one out there risking getting dropped.

You know, if she trusted him not to let her fall.

Which she was no longer one hundred percent sure she did. Who knows? Maybe he'd find it hilarious. Maybe he'd think she'd lose her powers as part of her death penalty and be ready to hook up.

She slanted him a long, cool look.]

You sure 'bout this?

[You're sure you want to trust me not to let you fall?]

[While he has absolutely no intention of letting her fall, he doubts she'd trust him not to at this point. Besides, he's pretty sure he can manage this pretty well without having to put her out of her way too much.

Although, yes, it does mean trusting her not to let him go. After everything else lately, it would probably serve him right. But he also knows she's an X-Man, and not the sort who would let him fall to a watery grave. She's a better person than she gives herself credit for.

Maybe he does trust her more than he should. But he's willing to take that gamble.

A faint smile twitches at one corner of his mouth.]

'Course I am.

[She's also the X-Man who shoved her mother off a cliff.

So his trust speaks of something, but whether it's more than foolishness, Rogue doesn't feel like she's in any position to be an accurate judge at this time.

Instead, she just carefully works her way along the ledge to brace herself firmly against the corner between one of the walls and the open door.

She nods.]

Go on, then.

[Do what you've got to in order to get yourself situated.

...hopefully you weren't ALSO planning on using this corner because that could get. Close.]

Edited 2012-08-09 23:26 (UTC)

[Details, details.

Also, yes, he was planning on using that corner. Although he can improvise to improve on the... closeness factor. It might be a dumb move, but he's going to have to trust in his balance here and also trust that Rogue will support him in the end.

Yeah, delicate operation. Definitely. Especially when he's crowding her personal space a bit.

Ever-so-carefully, he gets up to the very edge of the closet at the open door, bracing one hand against the frame near Rogue for balance. It might be easier to wait for the breeze to blow the door a little closer, but he's trying to walk his fingers along the door first to pull the doorknob in closer.

Not the speediest method, especially when the breeze keeps pushing the door open wider. Which is rather unamusing.]

Merde.

[Sighing, Rogue reached over to where Gambit had placed his hand on the door frame for balance and snaked a gloved hand around his wrist.

She said nothing, but her grip was firm.

Go on.]

[He gives her a small nod and gets a little further out on the edge of the doorway. One foot is out over open air, but his balance is still good and she's more than enough counterbalance.

It doesn't take him long to grab a hold of the doorknob, although then there's some careful maneuvering to make sure he gets back into the closet without plummeting into the ocean.

All in all, it's a success, though. Door shut.]

Thanks.

[She meets his glowing eyes for a moment and then glances down and away. She releases his hand casually, maybe a little too casually, don't her best to project utter nonchalance at the contact.]

Don't mention it.

[The fact that she actually met his gaze for a moment makes him hesitate. And then she's trying to act nonchalant. And it's more difficult than it should be to get his mind back on track after having her eyes lock onto his, for however short a time it may be.

Not the best time for any of this.

With a small shake of his head - eyes closed, since he knows the glow would give the motion away - he starts to move away again.]

Bit late not to mention it, non?

[Not what she meant, he knows, but. Well. Two can act at casualness.]

[She rolled her eyes, staying with her back to the corner. She kept her head turned, her gaze seemingly fixed on one of the coats.

And she watched him, quietly and tensely aware, out of her periphery vision.]

An' there you go, doin' it again.

[That sideways look is vaguely concerning, but his tone sobers up a bit again at her words.]

Doin' what again?

[Her gaze flickers to his again, for the briefest moment there's a shadow of humor on her face.]

Mentioning it.

[And she doesn't quite look away.]

[Before he can stop himself, a slow smile spreads across his face. He can't seem to look away either.]

An' what happens if I keep mentionin' it?

[A blink, an instinctive response of warmth--

No. No. What is she, out of her mind?

Her mouth takes a sharp downward turn and she gave him a flat look.]

Ya start soundin' like a broken record.

[He can practically see that invisible wall coming back up between them. And even though the fact that it slipped for a moment is a little encouraging, it's also a little depressing how quickly it came back.

So close to making a step in the right direction.]

Guess not, huh.

[Half talking to himself, half to her.]

[Guess not, what?

...guess not everything's okay?

Pfah.]

No. Guess not.

[Of course everything isn't okay. But there was still some glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they'd at least get back to being able to talk.

It's probably stupid to hold out for it, but he doesn't want to give up, either.]

An' here I was t'inkin' broken record would be better'n jus' sittin' in the dark an' quiet.

Depends on the record.

[That's said sullenly.

Because he's right, really. It would be.]

Good point.

[And he can't resist the little dig. It's just too easy. His grin goes a little lopsided... not that it's probably all that visible in the dark, but he knows his eyes tend to literally brighten a bit as well.]

Not sure I could pull off Pink Floyd or anythin', but I'll take requests.

[A quiet huff. Ha, ha. She refuses to be amused. 8|]

Ya have an "off" switch?

[And the answer is out before he can even stop himself.]

Nope. Can only turn me on.

[....timing could be better, LeBeau.]

[Did he seriously just say that?]

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