Work Text:
Out from Inside
by Randa Beth
modern_audrey@yahoo.com
Website: http://modernaudrey.livejournal.com/
Justin Timberlake claimed to be 'bringing sexy back'. If 'bringing sexy back' was defined as driving Rogue completely out of her mind, he was certainly doing a bang-up job.
She sighed, leaning her head back against the wide oak tree behind her and turning the volume on her CD player up as loud as it would go. The headphones were really too cheap to provide any kind of sufficient competition against outside noise. They were better than nothing, though, and they were the best that she could do.
If she were to peer out from behind her tree, she knew that she would see a whole gathering of students scattered across the front lawn. Dancing, sunbathing, and talking...just generally having a good time on the first warm and sunny Saturday afternoon of the season.
She didn't turn around.
Beneath her, an old wrinkled blanket provided shelter against the dampness of the grass. Cheap dollar store quality shades shielded tightly closed chocolate eyes from the uncomfortable glow of the sun as it peered in through the leaves and branches surrounding her. This little thatch of quasi-wilderness had provided a respite for her on many similar occasions, when she couldn't think of a sufficient reason to stay inside and completely isolated from the rest of the students--but couldn't quite bring herself to join them, either. A slight smile curved bee-stung lips, and she stretched languidly--arching her back and enjoying the slight breeze as her off-the-shoulder burgundy blouse rode up a bit, exposing flawless ivory skin.
A whistle sounded above her, and Rogue sat up in a hurry--all traces of contentment instantly vanished from her expression. She scowled, straightening her shirt.
"You know, John," she drawled coldly. "It's not very polite to sneak up on people when they're trying to relax."
His eyes widened innocently as that characteristic self-satisfied smile played at the corners of his lips. "Not polite? Me?" Lean shoulders flexed as he shrugged casually. "Imagine that."
One naturally arched brow rose, dark eyes simply taking him in for a moment. When it became clear that he wasn't planning on taking off anytime soon, she sighed and removed her headphones. "Did you want something?"
"Yeah. I want you to get your ass up and onto the basketball court. Drake managed to get all the good players on his team. Again."
"And what exactly gives you the idea that I know how to play basketball?" Rogue inquired, attempting to maintain patience in face of his blatant...blatantness. That was one of the things she hated most about him; he confused her. Caught her off guard. Alternating between insulting her and ignoring her, flirting with her and mocking her... She never knew quite how to take him. Couldn't figure out exactly what he wanted from her. Or why she even cared to find out.
In general, John Allerdyce made her nervous as hell.
His voice brought her back to reality, and her gaze returned to his smirking face. "For all I care, you could suck just as badly as Lee over there," he gestured vaguely off to the side, eyes glinting intriguingly. "I just figure that if I'm going to have to lose, I should at least get to stare at your breasts while you're running around the court."
Her jaw dropped, color heating her cheeks.
John just grinned, settling beside her on the corner of her blanket. "What? I thought chicks like you were into honesty."
"'Chicks like me?'" She repeated, edging away from him. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"You know...the good girl shy types, with the mysterious dark undertones." He lowered his voice theatrically on the last three words, reaching across her body to steal her CD player. His hand came disturbingly close to her thighs, and Rogue shivered slightly before forcibly shaking off her discomfort. She made a grab for her player, but he held it out of reach as he examined it closely.
"This thing is cheap as hell, you know," he commented in a conversational tone. "Bet it doesn't play worth a damn. Not that it could be much worse than listening to the garbage that Pryde's been blaring all day. Whoever gave that kid stereo privileges needs to have his jaw busted."
Rogue ignored his ramblings, finally succeeding in reclaiming her CD player. She gathered the rest of her things together before moving to stand huffily. John's hand on hers stopped her, and, surprised, she stared at him. Not many people touched her of their own accord, even through gloves. She could feel the heat of him even through the thin cloth, and his thumb traced lazy circles on her upper palm.
Full lips curved upwards as he examined her face intently. "From the bitchy look you're giving me, I'm guessing an afternoon of sulking in your room and playing emo music is gonna win out over letting me feel you up on the court. What the hell did I do to piss you off this time?"
She scowled disbelievingly, tugging her hand away. "Oh, I don't know...Maybe I don't like being told about what 'type' I am by a smug, self-obsessed punk with too much gel in his hair. That ever occur to you?"
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he took a moment before finally shaking his head. "Nah. Not really."
Rogue turned, exasperated. Multi-toned tresses flew in every direction as she stalked away without a single glance backwards. She left the blanket, refusing to let it ruin her exit.
John's eyes drilled into her back as she moved, and she drew up her spine as he began to snicker. Before she got too far out of sight, he called after her retreating form.
"You know, if it helps, I had to make up a new type to put you in."
She didn't pause, hips swaying purposefully as she continued towards the mansion. But she had to fight back the rare grin blossoming across her face at his words.
It did help.
Prompt: Colorblind
Written for the 100songs challenge.