Perfect for him, the same way he was perfect for her. Perfect in spite of or perhaps because of the heartache and traumatic pasts they carried with them. "Thank you," was the only thing she could manage in response to that.

If Steve had spoken any of those words aloud, Rogue would have been a crying mess in his arms in five seconds flat. She'd always felt like such a burden to everyone around her because of the restrictions her mutation put on her life and the effect it had on her mental state, and she'd always tried so very hard not to both anyone with her troubles. It was a holdover from her days as a foster child, always trying to please everyone so someone might finally want her. That instinct had waned during her teenage years once she'd been adopted by the D'Ancantos, but after just a few short years of living with her mutation it had come back full-force. Remy had made some progress in easing that deepset fear in her, but Steve would have his own turn with it before long.

Rogue opened her mouth to try to turn the conversation in a different direction, but what came out was a sudden, heavy yawn that she failed to hide behind her hand. Once it had passed, she looked sheepishly at Steve and explained, "It's not you, sugar, I swear. I had a pretty late night, is all."