Rogue also had a habit of flirting. It was practically a skill they demanded you have to be a female bartender these days. Though she'd been quiet and somewhat shy as a teenager it was an easy skill to pick up on. Sometimes it felt like acting, like she was pretending to be someone who had a whole hell of a lot more confidence in herself than she really did. When the flirting worked and she got attention returned, it felt pretty good. Remy being there felt pretty good too, and when she took a moment to assess herself, Rogue was slightly surprised to realize she wasn't acting.
"How about we head out on Sunday mornin'? That way you can still have Christmas with your family an' I can tie up all my loose ends." The last thing she wanted to do was leave New Orleans the way she'd left New York. With any luck she'd be back in a few weeks' time, all cured again and ready to get back to life as a normal person should. Plus, she didn't want to take Remy away from his family on such a big holiday. Unable to stop herself, she gave a little laugh. "This is crazy. I hope you don't think I do this kinda thing all the time."
She looked down at their hands together and briefly, inevitably, thought of Bobby. His was the last hand she held like this. Would he still be there? Would he be holding a grudge for the way she left or be the ever-forgiving person she'd known him to be? When Remy reached up and touched her hair she instinctively flinched back. Realizing what she'd done, she apologized quietly and tried to relax. "Maybe," she agreed softly. Trying to turn the conversation a little less serious, she tilted her head and looked at him. "I don't know what you said just now but I'm pretty sure if you keep talkin' that way I might melt."