He moved with her, pushing himself up straighter against the wall. He didn't entertain the notion of looking away from her, didn't even want to stop looking. She hated all of this, he knew it--touching, looking, talking. But he needed to look at her now, some aching wave of affection laced into his concern. When did her ever really look at her, besides that one moment in the maze, right before he kissed her? And wasn't this what he had been avoiding all along? Not touching her so he couldn't keep wanting to, not only for her. Not looking so he could avoid seeing something he couldn't--didn't want to handle.

She was embarrassed; he saw that. Saw the pink in her cheeks, the unsure line of her lips. The way her fingers grabbed and pulled at each other. How she avoided him completely. He rested his cheek against the wall as he watched her for another moment, licked his dry lips.

"Rogue," he said quietly, struggling for the right words. "Whatever this is... you don't have to be alone."