He'd be back.
Lying reverently on her bed, Rogue caressed the pillow under her hand with auburn silk gloves. It's not that she was pretending it was him, she wasn't some silly schoolgirl with a crush. She couldn't allow herself to believe that, not after seeing what was inside of him, not after still having his dreams, his nightmares. It's just that she was just picturing what it would be like to touch skin. Real human contact, skin to skin. Some days were worse than others, and when she had seen Scott delicately trace the outline of Jean' jaw, tucking a loose strand of fiery red hair behind her ear, the jealousy had become an angry firestorm inside her, and Bobby hadn't understand why she has sped past him with tears in her eyes, and why she was refusing to open the door in spite of his desperate pleas from the other side of the sturdy piece of wood.
Bobby wasn't like him, he was just a kid. He had thought he could have her, could touch her. That his love for her would be so strong that he could teach her to control her power. Like it was some on-off switch. It wouldn't be, at least not for him.
Rogue had tried to control it, had tried to use meditation, had gone to Jean for help, on a mission of sorts, one in search of for human contact. Without the pull, without feeling someone else's life slowly and painfully seeping into her veins, another voice added to her head where there was already chaos. How ignorant they all were, that they did not fully appreciate how fortunate they were to be able to shake someone's hand, be able to embrace someone if they were silently crying out for human comfort.
A new-found silence interrupted Rogue's reverie, as she realized Bobby wasn't knocking on her door anymore, not making any emotional pleas to let him in, because he could help her. Like he could. Like anyone could, except for him. She was convinced of that. He had only been gone eight months, but her 'crush' as she had initially categorized it as herself, had developed into something deeper. She was beginning to understand him, after studying him for so long. She had run to Xavier in panic every time she felt he was in pain, that someone had hurt him. And she had found peace every time Xavier had told her to not worry, he was keeping track of him as well, and her mind had silently told her that he would survive, he always did. He would heal. She had held the dogtags in her naked hand, and known he would be alright. He had promised to protect her, and he would.
Suddenly another sound drew her attention, but not Bobby. Voices, in the hall. A voice she recognized even though she had not heard it, other that in her head, for a very long time.
Logan.