Waking up in a brand new era hadn't been nearly as easy as he made it sound, but that wasn't the point of the story, anyway. Neither of them had had an easy time of it, but they'd both made do with what they had, and pulled themselves up to where they were now. Steve would never think poorly of what Rogue had had to do to survive; sometimes, the right thing to do meant taking care of yourself.

Moving out of the bedroom, Steve headed over to the coffee table and began putting things back in order. He grabbed the cutting board, slung the shoulder strap of the cooler over his other arm, and headed into the kitchen. The remnants of food went into the fridge, then he grabbed some cling wrap and wrapped the last, uneaten sandwich before adding it as well. The cupcakes he debated leaving out, but ultimately put them in the fridge as well, unsure if some of the ingredients wouldn't spoil at room temperature sooner, rather than later. He bustled around the kitchen a little, putting things in the sink to be washed later, moved back to the living room and glanced around. The couch cushions had been knocked askew somewhat, so he pushed those back in place, then headed back to the bedroom. He was very much looking forward to seeing Rogue in his clothes.