Iceman's POV

I walk slowly down the corridors to the holding cell where you're kept for safekeeping. You've been there for a few weeks now. Every day, I take your food and drink there, because, well, let's face it; we have a history of friendship together. No one else understands why you do what you do -- did what you did.

You left the plane that day, barely looked back. It was hard for me, but I let you go. The first time I didn't fight your strong will to leave whenever things got rough.

You always did want to leave when things got rough. That's why I always feared telling you about my feelings for you. It would have been awkward between us; you might never have talked to me again. But I had to have you in my life in order that I might go on. You were my something to live for -- you were my everything. Still are.

I remember when you came back to us. It was a cold night; but I guess that didn't matter to you, as it didn't matter to me. You had your fire, and I was practically made of ice. I was outside trying to make an igloo so I might get some sleep that night. You see, I got lonely when you left. There were nights where I just couldn't sleep without the rhythmic sound of your breathing. I couldn't bear to sleep in a comfortable bed without knowing you were all right, snuggled in the sheets on the bed opposite mine. The nights were difficult for me because I never saw you during the day. That night was especially difficult for me.

I knock and you answer the door with a smile. I love your smiles! I feel as if I'm literally melting inside.

That was what I most missed when you were gone -- the way you used to tell jokes and burst into laughter before you finished them, the way you used to enjoy getting reprimanded by the professors for playing with your lighter. Your smile could warm me up inside, and that wasn't a good thing.

You know I'm with Rogue. I couldn't hurt her by leaving and going to you. Remember when you told me: 'You might want to leave before you're the one who gets hurt.' You were always the rational one, the one who took everything at face value. I was always the one who cared too much. I knew Rogue needed someone the moment I saw her, like the moment I saw you.

I see you now, and it breaks my heart that we only have a few short minutes of time together. The times I bring you something to eat. Yet, here I am, still beside you, waiting until you finish. But I might stay a little longer so you have someone to talk to.

Your first apology was to me that night you came back. I was the first person you saw, and the first person to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be all right. No one else trusted you but me. I knew you better than they did. You always went after the thrill, but when the fun was over, it was back to seeking more. This time you knew as well as I did that joining the other side was risking too much. But it was too late. You were there and Magneto had you. Yet somehow you managed to escape. You came back to the school -- back to me. And I wanted you back -- with me. I wanted to know what it was like to hold you once more.

I remember that night when I caught you trying to run away from school. You had one foot on the ledge and you were grasping the sides of the window, trying to get enough leverage to propel yourself up. By the time I had crept slowly behind you, you were letting out a breath of determination. I could see your calf muscles tense as you prepared for the jump and drop. I don't know why but I knew that the only way to stop you was to touch you. My right arm snaked around your waist just before my left hand rested gently on your left shoulder. You froze -- though it wasn't me who froze you. Time was molasses at that point -- it passed along so slow I hardly knew if the world had stopped; the only evidence was the beat of our hearts and the rising and falling of our chests as we breathed in and out. We were so close to each other.

I loved holding you like that. Looking back, I knew that that night, our proximity was innocent. There were no designs, no plans; we were just close. Close for comfort, close for peace, just close. Can we ever be that close again?

When we finally moved, I backed away immediately, somehow knowing you weren't going to jump. And you didn't. You came back down and sat at the edge of your bed. I sat beside you on pure instinct. This time my left arm went around your back and pulled you close so you could lean on me and my right arm guided your head to rest in the crook of my neck. I silently stroked your hair. We had never been in this position before; I wasn't sure if I had done this correctly. I was hurt when you gruffly pushed me away. After knowing a lot that night, I guess I slipped up and comforted you too long. I went back to my bed and was relieved when I woke up to find you still asleep, the sun creeping its way toward my bed after it had visited yours. It was then I knew, you were the reason I was here.

Maybe I should finally tell you. She doesn't matter to me -- you do. It's always been you. I search for the elusive words, ones that will never truly express my feelings for you. There is no word able to encompass all the mixed emotions and history which have passed between you and me. I look over at you and you're staring back, but I notice something weird.

There was this look you had in school. It was a look I knew well, because I had always seen it on you when Rogue and I were together. I always thought you just didn't approve of her. But why are you looking at me that way now? She's not even here. And then I know.

I nod and move closer; you smile and do the same. And then we were kissing.