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Remy looked at Rogue across the candlelit table. The flame glinted in her emerald eyes, eyes that were locked on him, content and at ease. Her deep green dress sparkled almost as much as her eyes. Her white and auburn hair curled down her back like ocean waves.
Once again, he wondered how in the world he was worthy of this woman. What made him deserve this? He decided nothing. Nothing he had ever done, said, or been could have made him worthy, but that was just the kind of woman she was. The kind that would take in a feral dog, love it, and tame it into something worthy of love.
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Rogue sat at the table, eating her fancy dinner, cooked by Remy. The large bouquet of crimson roses was set aside, along with the fancy box of chocolates, sporting bands around them like those in A Walk In The Clouds. Soft music played in the background. Why? Why would he pursue her this way? What could he possibly get out of this that would be worth his while? She couldn’t touch him. Kiss him. Love him in that way a woman loves a man. What made her worthy of love?
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He hadn’t planned on it and hadn’t even thought about it. But she was there, sitting in front of him, looking at him as if he were her world. He was there, looking at her. She wasn’t like his world; she was his world. There was nothing else in this life that mattered more than her. What else was he to do?
He picked up the box of chocolates and opened it, searching for just the right one.
“What are you doing, sugah? We haven’t even finished dinner.” She asked sweetly.
“ I don’ know, cher.” He picked up a chocolate with a golden band encircling it. The emerald colored jewel in the middle shone in the candlelight. He slipped the ring off the chocolate. Slowly, hesitating only slightly, he looked up to her. “Cherie, lookin’ at you right now, I can’ imagine sitting here across from any other woman. You’re my sun and my stars, my breath, and my heartbeat. We have seen so much together, been through things that would break most people…”
“Remy?”
“Non, let me finish. ” A nervous smirk lit his face like a teenage boy asking his first crush to the prom. He slid his chair away from the table and knelt in front of Rogue, holding up the foil ring. Her hand flew to her mouth, a small gasp escaping, while a tear glistened in the corner of her eye. “ Rogue, I want you to be my ever after. It might not always be happy. Knowing you and me, the chances of that are, well, you know. But I don’ think I could take one more breath if you won't agree to be my wife. Will you help me to see tomorrow and be my wife?”
The silence only lasted for seconds, but to Remy it felt like a lifetime. Memories of their lives together flashed through his mind so quickly that it made him dizzy. Memories that both thrilled him and haunted him.
“Remy, Ah have experienced life without you, and it hurt so much Ah wanted to die so Ah could be with you. And now you're here again, and Ah don’t ever want to let you go. So whatever life may look like with you, yes. Yes, Ah will be your wife.”
The speed at which Remy jumped up, grabbed her, picked her up, and swirled her around defied all laws of physics. The laugh that sprang forth from her lips was the song of angels. The smile on her face more beautiful than the Mona Lisa.
“Sugah, sugah!” Her plea stopped him in his tracks,
“Mon cœur, qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?”
She loved it when he was excited; he always slipped into French.
“The ring?” Her hand held out innocently, and bright emerald eyes reminded him that he hadn’t yet placed the make-shift ring on her finger. He set her down, held her gloved hand, slipped the foil ring on her finger, and tightened it to fit over the leather glove. “Ah’ll treasure this forever, my love.”
“Happy Valentine's Day, mon amour.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, swamp rat.”