Rogue woke sometime between the hours of very late, and very early in breezy winter. Stretching a bit, she smiled at the sight before her. She knew how she was amongst a very select few to see such an astonishing sight. Lying flat on his back, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, Max Eisenhardt, Magneto, the Master of Magnetism, slept peacefully.

Just slept. Nothing animated him in the clean light of the moon, save his strong chest rising and falling with every breath. She grinned and she knew from the way the corners of her lips curled back, she was grinning like a fool. She couldn't help it. It felt like for the first time in a long while, she felt in control of herself. Wholly and completely.

How funny that the last time she had felt that way was in the Savage Land? Sure, if anyone said it aloud, she'd make a comment, put them in their place. Or give 'em a lickin' they wouldn't soon forget. Out there, perhaps she would, but here, she could remark on the phenomenon in the privacy of her own mind, point out the similarities and lack of to herself.

' This time though, we got together a lot faster. ' she reflected ruefully, running one hand along his chest before resting her hand over his heart. ' Not that it was a requirement then, or now… ' she yawned and hitched her shoulder under the pillow a bit better. Rogue was careful not to move too quickly. Sometimes he was a light sleeper, and she wanted to get a little closer before sleep took her again.

His profile was edged in soft silver light, she admired the clean lines of his forehead, nose…chin…' Lips… ' she thought to herself, her lips splitting into another smile. She took a moment to appreciate him, a man of hard lines, hard muscle, and harder convictions. A man made of the strongest will. All that strength and yet, he was so exceedingly, fiercely gentle with her.

Only the other night had he held her as she sobbed, having woken in the middle of the night, reliving the agonizing moments when she watched Kurt sacrifice himself for Hope. And for her. For Hope, for mutants, humans, the world, and for her. She woke in tears, whimpering her brothers' name like a mantra. Erik held her through the night, letting her weep her heart out.

When that ended, he didn't ask for any response, and even shushed her with a gentle pair of fingers on her lips when she tried to apologize. Instead, he rose from the bed long enough to bring back a washcloth soaked in warm water. He washed her face with soft and gentle strokes. He said nothing through it all; he knew all too well the pain of a broken heart.

So she told him about the friendship the found siblings had fostered even before they discovered their familial alliance. How she had flown to England often until they 'died' in Dallas to check in on the comatose Kurt. She'd hold his hand, and beg him silently to wake up for hours on end. When she first joined the team, he made a point to tend to her, and was one of the few that went out of his way to talk to her.

He even apologized to her for his part in her first day at the mansion. "I'm glad you're here, Gauner . I'm sorry I doubted you." It shocked her, and she almost fell out of the bed, demurring. Oddly yet, he refused to accept her apology until she forgave him. They went back and forth trading niceties until and they ended the moment with a bit of embarrassed laughter that became genuine.

A friend before she rightfully earned him. A brother before she knew she had one. She missed Kurt. But she'd hold out hope for a return. If anyone deserved it, it was her dearest brother. Stranger things had happened. She didn't feel particularly too much better by that…but it was a resolution in itself. And she knew he wouldn't want her to continuously mourn.

Yawning, she sent a little prayer skyward as she snuggled close to Erik, grateful for this moment. Her brother would be grateful, if confused at her choices in partners, but he'd have known better. She could've thrown his own romantic escapades at him in retort. Rachel Summers? Really ? They would've laughed and moved on.

It was because their relationship - hers and Kurts, hers and Erik's - was strong, and there was a distinct difference between strong and hard. Erik understood it, and lived it. He inspired her to find that balance. The other night he modeled it as she spoke about what she experienced; the desperation she felt as she tried to best Nimrod. The panic at falling, defeated before their enemy. The panic stoked higher at hearing Kurt's muttered prayer while he rose to his feet. As he…he…

He was a hero.

Erik let her tell everything she needed, giving her fallen brother the eulogy she wanted to give at his funeral, but was unable. And after, when she tried to thank him, he stopped her with a gentle kiss. As he pulled back, he told her how much he understood. They spent the rest of the night trading stories of their survival, how, even now, it should've been them. They had nothing to hide from each other, ever.

' Ever .' she thought to herself as she tucked herself against him and placed her head on his chest. She would be happy to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat every night. Despite his preference to wear a shirt - it was cold this far from the coast at all seasons, no less than in autumn - he abstained from the action. He knew how much she enjoyed snuggling against his skin. Keeping the window open made for a good excuse, one that she exploited shamelessly.

He didn't complain, not even in the snippet of him that she caught nightly when she snuck a lick of his powers in her nightly kiss. It told her the truth of his feelings about that action, at least. He was relieved that she was finally using her gifts without fear. And that she trusted him so. That they trusted one another. Grinning, knowing she was luxuriating in a trust few were lucky enough to find, she felt her body relaxing more swiftly than it ever had accomplished when sleeping alone. Rogue let one hand lay on his chest, watching it and her rise and fall to his breathing. It was a powerful soporific, and sleep was imminent. She swiftly fell to it with the soothing background of surf and his strong heart beating a rhythmic melody.