As far as he was concerned, any other scars on her body, due to her captivity, were a direct result of the ugly branding on her wrist. It wasn't that he expected her to have terrible scars, but he wasn't going to be that surprised, either, especially from what little she'd told him and alluded to, and the way she reacted to some things. He already knew about her scars, both physical and mental; he just hadn't seen them yet.

Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders, cradling her against his chest, and reached out with his other hand to snag his jacket; he wadded it up and tucked it under his head, so he could turn and lay on his back, pulling Rogue over with him. Snuggled together, sun shining down, the smell of grass and an assortment of picnic foods mingling together, people murmuring and laughing all around them... This was what Steve had always imagined, wished, his life could be like.

"I love you too," he told her. He was never going to not tell her.