Steve nodded, rubbing his hands over her palms, this time purely for comfort. "Okay. Come on."
Steve only let go of Rogue's hands once they were near the bed. He left her to get settled, while he moved toward the windows. He sidled up to the large windows almost as if he were approaching a wounded animal. He really didn't want to open the blinds, but the natural light would be good, and Rogue enjoyed the view. Steve could get over himself.
Overnight, the city had been covered in white powder, and the windows were coated in frost and ice along the edges. Steve made himself look at the frost and ice for a moment, letting memories of a frozen tundra rushing toward him swim through his brain, before deliberately turning back toward the bed, and Rogue. He wasn't going to get over his dislike of cold and snow and ice if he avoided it, and this way, maybe he'd start associating it with nicer things. At the very least, he had reminders that he wasn't frozen anymore, and the cold could touch him, but it couldn't consume him anymore.
Settling on the bed, Steve wasn't sure if he should hold Rogue, or if she'd want to hold herself apart while she told her story. Generally she liked the former, but he'd learned that during emotional talks, it was best to let Rogue lead. So he settled with his back against the headboard, and just tried to make himself look as comfy and inviting as possible.
no subject
Steve only let go of Rogue's hands once they were near the bed. He left her to get settled, while he moved toward the windows. He sidled up to the large windows almost as if he were approaching a wounded animal. He really didn't want to open the blinds, but the natural light would be good, and Rogue enjoyed the view. Steve could get over himself.
Overnight, the city had been covered in white powder, and the windows were coated in frost and ice along the edges. Steve made himself look at the frost and ice for a moment, letting memories of a frozen tundra rushing toward him swim through his brain, before deliberately turning back toward the bed, and Rogue. He wasn't going to get over his dislike of cold and snow and ice if he avoided it, and this way, maybe he'd start associating it with nicer things. At the very least, he had reminders that he wasn't frozen anymore, and the cold could touch him, but it couldn't consume him anymore.
Settling on the bed, Steve wasn't sure if he should hold Rogue, or if she'd want to hold herself apart while she told her story. Generally she liked the former, but he'd learned that during emotional talks, it was best to let Rogue lead. So he settled with his back against the headboard, and just tried to make himself look as comfy and inviting as possible.