Rogue (atouchthatkills) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-07-06 21:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | rogue, xander harris |
WHO: Xander and Rogue
WHAT: Ranting. And pizza. Can't forget the pizza.
WHEN: Same time as Cordelia and Logan's date.
WHERE: Rogue's room at the Hyperion
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress
This wasn't a date. It really wasn't. This was just two people who happened to be the same age, spending some time together, eating pizza. This was just her, offering to let someone who was clearly upset, vent about his troubles. It wasn't a date, in any way, shape, or form. Not anything like that at all, whatsoever.
Except, she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty about it. Non-date status or not, Rogue rather felt like she was betraying Bobby in some strange sort of way. And the longer she sat in her room, waiting for Xander to show up, the guiltier she began to feel.
"This is stupid," she muttered to herself, turning off her television and glancing around the room to make sure it was decent enough for visitors. She wasn't a messy person by nature, so the room was clutter free, but that still didn't stop her from smoothing down the bedspread and straighting the alarm clock on the nightstand. "I don't even know him, and it's not like I could actually cheat on Bobby anyway."
Yet even as she was saying it, Rogue caught herself glancing at her reflection in the mirror and tucking a few errant strands of white hair behind her ear. "Not a date. Just two people, eating pizza and chatting," she told her reflection sternly. Her reflection offered no type of rebuttal and she nodded once, somewhat satisfied.
Then nearly jumped a foot in the air when a knock sounded at her door.
Frowning at bit at her reaction, she quickly glanced in the mirror again, smoothed the invisible wrinkles from the front of her t-shirt, then proceeded to allow her visitor entrance. She pulled open the door with a small smile on her face for the man standing there, whom she'd only met over the message boards so far.
"Hey," she greeted him, pulling the door open and stepping aside so he had room. "Come on in."
Not a date, she reminded herself once more, fiercely. Not much of anything. Just a chat amongst people who might someday be friends. Closing the door, she turned to face him. "You can put the pizza down wherever," she offered, motioning around the room with one hand, covered as per usual in her trademark gloves.