Rogue muttered something unintelligible, keeping her face turned away from her.
Rahne strained to listen. “What did ye say?” In spite of the odor of alcohol on Rogue’s breath, the smaller girl put her face next to the inebriated mutant’s face.
“I saw… them,” Rogue mumbled softly, not guarding the sour tone in her voice.
“Them? Who do Ye mean by that?” Concern filled Rahne’s eyes as she turned to look at the girl, stretched out like a broken doll on the bed before her.
“Scott… n’ Jean…” Rogue’s face pulled into a sorrowful frown. “…they wuz… neckin’ there… ina corner,” she slurred softly. There was a pang of hurt under her words that Rahne picked up on.
“Oh my…” Rahne said, not sure what more could be said. Deciding not to dwell on things, Rahne moved down to untie Rogue’s shoes. It wouldn’t do to let her sleep this stupor off while she was still dressed. Working gently so she wouldn’t disturb Rogue’s condition further, she got her boots and stockings off before reaching for her blouse and vest.