charles f. xavier }} professor x. (
helpmeguideit) wrote2011-08-04 02:59 am
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Continuing on.
continued from...
"Breakfast would be nice," Charles said. He enjoyed those times when he woke up early and got to spend some time alone with Erik. They didn't have these moments very often. Not with his own habit of falling asleep in his office and waking up in the middle of the night. He would join Erik for sleep (most nights) well into the night sometimes.
"I was going to get someone to make us something, but it seems I can't get up early enough for that."
"Breakfast would be nice," Charles said. He enjoyed those times when he woke up early and got to spend some time alone with Erik. They didn't have these moments very often. Not with his own habit of falling asleep in his office and waking up in the middle of the night. He would join Erik for sleep (most nights) well into the night sometimes.
"I was going to get someone to make us something, but it seems I can't get up early enough for that."
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"French toast," he asked over his coffee. "Or would you prefer something more English?"
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As he spoke, Erik rummaged through the kitchen. He retrieved eggs from the fridge, bread from the breadbox, and some cinnamon and sugar from the spice rack on the wall. "How many slices for you?"
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"Two's fine," Charles said, taking another sip of his coffee.
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He shot a look back to Charles before setting to work. These quiet moments meant so much to him, more than he could say. It was part of the reason he always made a point to be the first awake. It allowed him a chance to spend a few precious minutes with Charles before Anne woke even if they never made it out of their room.
"So greedy, Charles," Erik teased. "You have me to yourself all night, every night."
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Basking in the feelings and thoughts that Erik was projecting, basically. "I love you." It slipped, without him even realizing it.
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"What did you just say?"
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He should say something back. He tried, but nothing came. Erik finished cleaning the shattered egg from the floor and rose to his feet. It frustrated him that he wasn't able to articulate his own thoughts and feelings in turn. He turned away from Charles and leaned heavily on the counter. "I... feel the same way."
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"I truly do know." He had no expectations and only really wanted Erik there at his side.
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He'd come to realise that Charles had some difficulty dealing with others when he didn't read them. He realised asking Charles to stay out of his head completely was like asking him to close his eyes and find his way through the expanse of the house without running into anything or stumbling. It cut off a vital sense, a sense that Erik was once wary of, but now embraced for the intimacy it allowed them to share.
And it was intimate to him. The direct manner in which he could communicate his ideas and feelings to Charles when he couldn't put them to words. The untainted experience of Charles' emotions if and when he chose to share them. It was a connection Erik wasn't sure he could do without any more. It was completely and utterly evolved and brought them closer in the purest of ways.
"Thank you," he murmured, intensely grateful for Charles' understanding.
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He put down his coffee and moved near Erik, mostly so he didn't feel like he was sitting off to the side watching him, "You're welcome."
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And this particular moment, well, it felt like a milestone to Erik. For two decades, he had no place that was his home, no shelter for the raging storm of his own pain and anger. Charles had given him that: a home, respite, peace, family, and now love. All things Erik never expected to have in his life. Though his determined and violent strength was unneeded now, Erik knew that he would, if the time ever came, fight to the last to protect everything Charles had built, had given him.
A playful grin settled over his lips and he turned back to the stove. "Are you going to just sit there or help me?"
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