The wedding is in full swing—the sound of music and laughter fills the air, lights strung above casting a soft glow over the dance floor. You stand off to the side, watching couples spin and sway, the joy in the room palpable. But you can’t bring yourself to join them. Not tonight. Not when she’s standing there, just a few feet away, looking as beautiful and untouchable as ever.

Rogue catches your eye from across the room, her gloved hand clutching a champagne glass. There’s a wistful smile on her lips, but her emerald eyes betray the sadness she’s trying to hide. Slowly, she walks toward you, her long dress swaying with each step. She stops just short of touching you, the space between you feeling like an uncrossable chasm.

“I wish I could dance with you,” she says softly, her voice trembling slightly as she looks down at her gloved hands. “You deserve that. You deserve more than what I can give.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest, but before you can respond, she looks up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“But I’m here. And I love you. I’ll always love you. Even if this—” she gestures to the space between you, her powers, her fear, everything— “is all we’ll ever have.”

The room seems to fade away as you meet her gaze, the weight of her words settling over you both. It’s not perfect, but it’s her. And that’s enough.