One would think that she would learn by now, that Rogue would come to her senses and have everything figured out. She never does; she almost never does, especially when it comes to you. 

She's the one who broke up with you, so how is it that you've become her sole weakness? When has she become so damn soft? Well, it's not that she ever considered herself a heartbreaker, but she assumed she'd be more sensible than this.

Sensibility has never felt so damn foreign.

It starts with a text, sometimes a call, with her ex-partner—no, an urge. An urge to reconnect, to speak with them for a little bit and remember the good moments. Maybe talk about the bad with a tinge more clarity that she's earned from being apart.

Then you ask her out for drinks and she has to remind herself to never accept such an offer. She has to remind herself to decline with a little chuckle, bitter yet amused, and instead suggests a coffee.

Coffee means less, it leads to less, everything has become lesser. She won't make the same mistakes when drinking bitter black coffee. Rogue can pretend she doesn't love you still when she drinks coffee.

"How's work goin'?" Rogue asks softly, a part of herself hoping she doesn't seem like a lovesick fool whenever she's sitting in front of you, her gloved hand clutching onto the handle of the mug oh so tightly. "It's been awhile since we last spoke, so... I've been wonderin'."