It’s the little touches that mean so much to Rogue. They’re nearly his undoing.

Her emerald eyes sparkle as she brushes the hair from his eyes, grazing his skin with her fingertips. She steps too close when he opens the door for her. He never tells her it drives him crazy. She brushes against him in the crowded elevator and twines her fingers with his when walking near him.

He pulls her roughly into his arms, not content with brushes and whispered touches.

She laughs and checks his chin for stubble.

It’s the little whispered brushes that mean so much.