Title: Always the Same
Author: Allana
Spoilers: X3 Trailer
Pairing: Bobby/Kitty
Rating: PG
Universe: X-Men movieverse
Summary: Rogue’s reaction to betrayal
Word Count: 414

Fate is cruel, she thought.

What demon led her to the window at that exact moment when such hopes and dreams sank into betrayal and doubt? She might have loved Bobby—he was a sweet boy and had a smile so unlike the ice at his command. But in the end, she supposed, the only thing they had in common other than being mutants was the fact that they both wanted something neither could have.

Until now. Until he met with Kitty beneath the window where she was watching. In a way, it had been so easy wanting together. It was so easy to sneak those passionate kisses, when they could imagine that they could hold on just a few seconds longer before Bobby had to pull away, gasping for breath. They would giggle, speaking of “immunity” and wondering when they would be able to just hold each other and not fear their cheeks brushing together in the dark. But she knew. She knew that it was always the same and always would be.

It almost wasn’t even the kiss itself. It was light, almost chaste; a soft touch on the lips and inaudible words. Bobby searched the air above Kitty’s head, obviously conflicted. She wanted him to be the hero. Not the Iceman, but her Bobby, her own. But one glance of his back down to Kitty’s eyes and she knew she’d lost him. He didn’t kiss her again. Instead, he drew her to him, gently. Curving her arms gracefully around his neck, Kitty laid her head against Bobby’s chest, so oblivious and slowly, as in a fluid dream. The watcher wondered if she even knew this girl, standing placidly in her boyfriend’s arms.

She saw Kitty’s hands gently stroke Bobby’s hair, her forehead just tall enough to rest against his jaw. Touch. Comfort. She could barely get the thoughts out. Love. Acid crept into her heart and slammed, heavy, into the pit of her stomach. She ran a cool, silk glove over her face in an attempt to cool the tempest. She stripped off the glove violently and touched her own frigid fingers to her cheek. Ice. Turning away from the window, she hurled her back against the wall, forcing out a sob. Slowly, she sank to the floor, pulled off the other glove and held her head in her hands, hot and cold clashing but not resolving. Never resolving. Never.

She knew it was always the same and always would be.