Rogue didn't know what she believed about what happened to a person after they died. She'd been raised in a Southern Baptist household, but none of it had ever really set right with her, not after the life she'd led. Spiritual was how she would describe herself rather than religious, but she didn't fault anyone for their beliefs.

A quiet giggle followed his joke and she leaned in to kiss the curve of his jaw. It was good that he was a feminist and had been raised by a strong woman - this thing between them wouldn't possibly work if he didn't have the sense to let Rogue be her own person. She hadn't always been strong-willed and minded, but her years at the mansion had changed her deeply. She had grown into the type of person who would sooner kick ass than kiss it, and that was who she'd always wanted to be, in a way.

"I'm glad you have that to look back on," she told him with sincerity. "And I'm glad you had other people that you cared about, and who cared about you. I know it's hard to have to go on without them, but you'll always have those memories to take with you."

It hadn't been her intention for the tone of the conversation to change to something so... heavy. It was something she couldn't avoid though, not when she was remembering her own less than perfect assortment of family and friends.