Sometimes Rogue lapses into silence and it takes all the power of his being not to start something just to hear her yell. Instead, he crosses the distance between them slowly, touching her, smiling at her, whispering into her hair. Her breath hitches and she stiffens, but she doesn't push him away.

Each lapse grows shorter. Her tentative smiles and hands reaching are like the first time they fell in love. This is a new world where to go without touch, sweet stolen caresses, is all but impossible—no matter that touch can be fatal.

She's learning.

They both are.