They spend their last night awake on the porch swing together, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. Skin against skin. Neither really knows how it will end, only that they won't.

"Do you regret it, Remy?" Rogue asks, her voice soft against the night.

His hand glides upward. Touch, not words. He bends and kisses her.

She breathes him in until she gasps to feels his love sliding under her skin to become a part of her. They hold on, tightly, determinedly, until they can barely pull apart to hear each other breathe.

"Non," he whispers.