She was alone in front of the mirror, trying to gather her thoughts but nothing came up. She detailed how her skin felt under the touch of her hand, the softness, the tenderness of the flesh; this unexplored land. She marveled at the soft glow it was diffusing as water was still making it all slippery. Her eyes wandered over the flawlessness and one word came finally: hate.
She whispered it to try to give it a reality, turning it into a sound.

“I hate…”

Rogue’s eyes couldn’t leave the reflection in front of her as tears were welling up silently.



“I hate you.”



One hand cupping a breast she pressed the flesh gently, making her nipple rise at the sensation. A warm tear fell on it and it got so hard that it almost hurt. Her vague gaze drove to the lower part of her body but she couldn’t stand the sight of the dark curls down there or the feeling that was progressively ravaging her heart. She closed her eyes letting her thoughts wander in a vain hope of sending him a mental call; a call full of love and need, of distress too. But he wouldn’t hear her anyway.



“I hate you.”



It was her border, the limit no one could cross: her skin. Her wonderfully soft and tender skin, left untouched.


She tried to touch him once, after he’d stabbed her in the chest. She remembered how much she wanted, needed to feel him, how much she didn’t want it to stop when her system registered the split second of pure softness and warmth of his skin on her finger tips. How much she wanted to feel all of it right now as she was starring at her body in her bath room’s mirror. That night back then wasn’t for her survival, it was for her be able to do that; touch him before she left his world, feel that it was possible to have some of him like that.


Logan.


His name slipped from her wet lips like the caress she craved, opening her eyes and fixing them on her face, her parted lips.



“I hate you, who make of my life a desert of sensation, you who make me a stranger to human kind. I hate you.”



Her tears kept on falling letting shiny tracks on her cheeks. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, pretending they were his. Her mind raced as flashes surfaced; images of him with dozens, hundreds of other women. She never wished she was someone else, not until then, when she felt her body react to the sensations her mind recreated form Logan’s memories. She felt the door of the bath room open, letting a cold breath of air cooling her heated skin. Her body blushed hard as she saw him starring at her reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t speaking. He was just standing there, leaning on the door frame, looking at her. His heavy gaze left goose bumps on every place it landed on. He didn’t have to touch her to make her react; she realized that, as suddenly as she felt her nipples getting even harder and a burning sensation radiating from her core.

Then she looked more carefully, noticing his leather clad hands resting along his body. He stepped closer, inch after inch and then just standing there, looking at her from behind. Her breath hitched as his left hand hovered over her shoulder. She didn’t want to close her eyes, but she couldn’t allow herself to do that, not just now. He turned her around, lifted up her chin forcing her to look at him anyway but she would keep her eyes closed, not believing his unspoken promise. Then he did it, for her to come back, for her to feel the love he waited to give her for so long. And he leaned down to her, aiming her swollen lips, conquering her space inch after inch. With hands on both side of her face, he held her there, registering the sight of her waiting, expecting what would come next, but still not believing. He ran the last inch that kept them away one from the other, kissing her hard and soft, lovingly, possessively, until the deadly pull began. But it wasn’t as fast and strong as usual; it didn’t hurt that much anymore. So he took more of her, of her skin, the one he’s been dreaming of for years. He pulled off the gloves, tore at his shirt, pressing his burning body on hers. She didn’t respond though, not yet, she couldn’t. He was doing it for her, saving her once again.



The jeans went along with his under wear, and he was now naked, facing her, showing her in all his strong vulnerability. That’s when she finally opened her eyes, now that there was no frontier, no barrier of any kind. That’s when she kissed him, allowed herself to believe in all the things he was promising, wrapping her arms around him, protecting him. And finally the pull stopped. Eyes filled with love, friendship and a million other feelings that could not be betrayed by language enveloped her.


“Love.”


Simple whisper in the white light, two bodies intertwined only witnessed by a crying mirror and scattered clothes on the floor. The softly spoken word echoed in his heart until it went faint, almost like it had never been pronounced. There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do. He saved her, and she knew it, from the last danger.