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The rain had already decided to splatter itself against the windows when Rogue wakes up. She goes to adjust her stiff back -- and it's then she sees Kitty splayed out in the window seat, her head resting gently on the glass. Rogue herself had been ramrod straight in sleep; the poster child of chastity.1
Kitty's legs are resting over Rogue's and her breath fogs the windows, like a ghost or a shadow against the still-dark morning.
They're three hours into the coach journey to RFK Stadium for a field trip, and Rogue can already see most of the class dropping off into slumber. Tabitha Smith's legendary snores are about as loud as her explosions, and even though she's sitting at the back Rogue can still hear her in the front row.2 Grimacing, Rogue reaches for the bright yellow earplugs she bought for the trip and the battered, fire damaged copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet Of Fire Pyro had 'gifted' to (read: practically thrust upon) her after she'd told him rather offhandedly that she'd only seen half of the films.
(John had dropped the soda he had gotten out of the fridge onto the floor and had gasped rather loudly.
It was kind of embarrassing at the time, especially when Bobby walked into the room and found his boyfriend sweeping up glass and spilled drink off the floor, and his still-amicable ex-girlfriend loaded up with second-hand copies of what Pyro proclaimed was seriously required reading, oh my god Rogue.
Although she said she'd give them a chance, she'd only gotten halfway through Chamber of Secrets when she decided that she definitely preferred the box set of Percy Jackson books she'd received via the student-run 'Secret Santa' earlier that year. She can appreciate the sentiment, though.)
Before she can get them out, though, the bus hits a bump in the road and Rogue is pushed forward by the force, seat belt saving her from smacking her head on the seat in front (which is nice because the back of the seat is covered with gum). She can feel Kitty shifting in her sleep, the crinkling of her jacket against the gaudy blue-and-orange material of the bus seat like a dry leaf crushed underfoot.
A faint blush dusts Rogue's cheeks, and she decides to hide her face in her popped coat collar before it begins to look like a fire truck, or maybe Mystique's hair.
But her plans are interrupted. Kitty turns over and pushes against the wall of the window side with the pads of her feet, her head coming to lay on Rogue's green-clad shoulders and the rhinestones on the back of her jacket catch on the other mutant's coat -- bright, small sparkles against a dull, fern green wool. There's a lump in her throat that wasn't there before. Rogue takes a deep breath and is taken aback when she smells roses, of all things.3
1. She's slept like this since she was a kid -- a light sleeper, falling into slumber spread like a starfish across her childhood bed only to wake up with her legs extended straight and arms by her sides, face up. She can remember coming downstairs each morning for breakfast, stiff as a board, and her mother asking her to read the labels on the food packaging for her because those corporate idiots wouldn't know what Braille was if it bit them on the butt. It was relaxing, having something to do each morning, and with what she knows now about her mother's powers she thinks the 'mother's intuition' she originally chalked it up to had to have at least something to do with the precognitive abilities her mom had kept secret all these years. She doesn't mind, though. Pyro would probably say that it was foreshadowing of her powers, unconsciously shying away from human contact in her sleep before she had to consciously do it in real life. She'd probably scoff and aim a throw pillow at him.
2. Kitty and Rogue are sitting in the front row for a reason that Rogue has decided to never tell Kitty, if only because she feels self-conscious about it. Nothing insidious, of course -- it's just that Rogue suffers from carsickness. She once went on a road trip with Bobby back when they were dating, back when they thought they were straight, and spent the half the time looking as green as her coat. Sitting closer to the front makes her feel like the ride is taking a shorter time to complete, and in the back of her head she knows it's utter nonsense, but it doesn't stop the placebo effect at all.
3. When Rogue was younger, she used to sit by Irene as she tended to the garden. They used to sit together, Rogue deep in a book until her mother would inevitably call her to help with the flowers -- a use of the watering can about the petunias, or the picking of apples off the tree that Irene had planted when she adopted her, or to find and retrieve Irene's white cane from wherever she had left it (mostly found against the garden wall).
Rogue's favourite task, though, was picking and gathering rose petals from the fragrant bushes that were dotted around the garden, and using them to make some perfume or rose water with her mom pretending-not-to-notice-whilst-still-somehow-managing-to-hover in the background. She's always gravitated to rose-scented products since, like shampoos and body gels, and scented pens and highlighters.
Kitty must've used her bottle of shampoo during her quick shower this morning , Rogue realises, and tries to squash all notions that it wasn't completely by accident. Still, her heart feels like it's skipping a beat whenever she breathes in and smells the rose-scent of home clinging to Kitty's hair.
(What she doesn't realise is this: Kitty made a conscious decision to purposefully borrow her shampoo that morning. People do strange things when they have crushes, after all.
And so, when Rogue steps off the bus a couple of hours later, 4 chapters into Goblet of Fire and a very groggy Kitty close behind her, said groggy mutant tucks her hair behind her ear, smiles and blushes lightly when Rogue extends a glove-clad hand to help her off the last step, back onto solid ground.)