[Rogue thinks Remy might be forgetting who she's dating. No matter what he's done, she's pretty sure it doesn't rank up to attempting to explode an entire planet. The past matters. The present matters more. It has to, or what's the point?

She let him cup her hand, stood just beside him and didn't flinch away.] I can respect that - I ain't gonna ask ya ta tell me anythin' ya ain't ready ta do. [At least, she wasn't right now.] But I ain't gonna take my offer back either. Your past matters, Remy. But so does your present, so does your tryin'. I really believe that. I have to.

[Or else there was no redemption, no hope for something like her. And she didn't believe that, not anymore.

She let him move her hand, hold her hand, met his gaze without flinching even though her heart was breaking for him, for his bloodstained face and broken mask...

And she didn't protest when he led her to the chair, her resilience under this kind of fear and pressure and loneliness having sadly been tested time and time again -- and she held firm. She didn't like the look of the chair, of the room, these kinds of places always frightened her.

But he wanted to show her it, and she had given him her word that he didn't have to be alone. So she slid up on the chair without hesitation.]