Remy couldn't concentrate.

He was half lying across the library table with his head resting on top of his arm, his hand tapping out a nondescript rhythm on the wood. Blue prints, which had since been neglected for something much more interesting, covered the surface of the desk almost entirely, half scribbled on and being currently used as a coffee mat.

Rogue, who was at the table next to him, had been ignoring his presence for the full 15 minutes that she'd been sitting there. He was surprised she hadn't cracked yet, because he'd thrown several pencils and an eraser at her head, one of which had managed to hit her right on the nose. After Remy had run out of things to chuck at her, he'd instead opted for simply enjoying her company. So he'd admired her from a short distance for a little while, and then realised he should probably be productive and finish his task. Only that hadn't really worked, because the moment he'd done that, he couldn't stop thinking about the way her hair was falling into her eyes and he wondered if she'd tuck it behind her ear or not.

So he looked at her again, just to check. She was leaning her elbow on the desk, cheek resting on her hand as she copied something out from a book. The sun streamed down from one of the tall library windows, haloing her silhouette in gold and bronze, brushing her skin with amber and illuminating both the very tips of her eyelashes and the light smattering of freckles across her face. Then she tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing her flushed lips and pale skin, and Remy forgot he was meant to be doing an important job entirely.

There were faint particles of dust floating by her, shimmering like glitter. Her cheeks, a light blushed pink, looked warm and soft, and even as she furrowed her brows, biting her lip gently, there wasn't a single part of her that looked harsh or cold. Something in him swooped both low and high, and he breathed in sharply in an attempt to stifle it; it didn't work. It was like watching a very nice, and very hazy dream. The sunlight highlighted the gentle curves and slopes of her face as if it was illuminating her from not just the window, but from every other angle too. The tip of her nose, the lift of her cheekbone, the rise of her cupid's bow: she glowed in every sense of the word.

Rogue's eyes glinted and glimmered an extraordinary shade of deep emerald green, accentuated by her dark lashes which fluttered against her brow bone. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised that her eyelashes didn't get tangled; they were so long. He pondered on this for a moment or two.

Then quite suddenly, Rogue's head shot up. She looked at him as though she'd just caught him doing something very bad, then she opened her mouth and said with a small scowl: "Would you quit it?"

Not that he cared in the slightest, but he hadn't been aware she'd even noticed he was staring; he'd been pretty certain she'd actually forgotten he was trying to get her attention. He admired the way her hair had now fallen back in her face, and she was making no move to push it back. A large part of him wanted to walk over and do it for her. Her eyes were bright, and although they narrowed at him, looked mellow and glossed.

"No it's-" Remy paused, propping his chin on the inside of his arm before continuing honestly, "You're very beautiful."

He looked at her so seriously, so sincerely, that Rogue immediately went extraordinarily red. Remy didn't comment on it, instead he smiled slightly, cheeks dimpling, and rested his head back on his arm, just looking at her.

Rogue, who was struggling to come up with ways to appropriately respond, turned an even darker shade of scarlet and tucked the strand of white hair back behind her ear. Then she was smiling too, bashfully and perhaps a little awkwardly. She shifted, looked at him for a few short, and very enjoyable moments, before she turned away again.

And then there was a very quiet, very mild, "shut up," and the room was still once more.

Remy's grin widened.