It was a lot to take in and consider, and although Steve hated it, he knew he'd be thinking about it for a while, now. He'd be hyper-aware of every point of contact they had. He'd carefully go over her words, trying to put things together, to understand, at least a little, of what she'd gone through.

For right now, he didn't need to worry about any of that, though. They'd been touching and kissing all day, and nothing had happened. Rogue clearly wasn't afraid of touching him, which meant she had control of it now. She said in her world she couldn't control it, so she must have control of it here. But that still left fifteen years worth of emotional and mental scars. No wonder she was fine with being handsy - Steve had no real frame of reference how much physical contact a modern woman would initiate, or tolerate, but he began to really understand that in this case especially, Rogue was anything but ordinary.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, pulling her into a gentle hug, pressing his cheek against her hair. "That-- I won't pretend to understand what that must've been like for you. Tell me..." he floundered; he knew he couldn't fix anything - there was nothing to fix, but he wanted her to not hurt, and it frustrated him that he didn't know what to do, didn't have someone he could go punch and punish for any of it. "Is there anything I should do? Or not do? Touching is okay, right? I mean, you don't mind?" Maybe all of the touching was to force herself to get used to it, and that wasn't something he wanted at all. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable just because he wanted physical affection, if she wasn't interested in it, too. He could keep his hands to himself, if that's what she wanted.