Rogue's breath frosted on the pane of glass as chilled as her heart had now become. She had expected it, dreaded it, understood the motives behind what would drive it, but the sight of it still shook her. She had lost him – let him slip through fingers too dangerous to grip him with. He was hers now.

It had been warm out in the garden before. Warm when she had laughed and Bobby had only smiled. The warmth had crept into her cheeks, she knew, and she had felt a chill chase her when she ran off in embarrassment, the last to know when things were over.

She had taken advantage of this window to watch him. Look out for him. Make sure he had really meant it. She should have known. The garden was left untouched - he had sense not to take out his frustration on the flowers – but the pond and fountain were now glittering with his cold touch. Rogue had almost gone back.

Almost.

Kitty must have seen it, must have rushed to his aid. Rogue did not have ice skates but Kitty did. She used them, skated to him to reach him as he stood in the midst of his misery. She touched him with unclad fingertips, stroked him with soft bare palms, and spoke words of comfort - words to get his mind off things, words meant to amuse him.

He had laughed then.

Kissed her, too.

Rogue sighed and turned away, only to run into a warm solid body that encircled her with arms she had always longed to feel around her again, and Rogue breathed in the scent of him and began to cry. Not because Bobby had broken her heart, he hadn't, but because the man who now held her, had promised to take care of her, and had saved her life with his own, was not capable of thinking of her in any way other than as a kid.

And she felt her heart melt and shatter at the same time.