“You didn’t need to do this, I can manage on my own, you know-“
Charles slowly wheels himself into the bathroom, his amused smile weakening a fraction at the sight of Erik, shirtless and bold. His fingers close around the worn blanket around his lap, twisting into the fabric.
“I take it you’re not going to leave me to my own devices, then.” He murmurs wryly. “Afraid i’ll drown?”
Erik moves, leaning on the pristine tile of the bathroom walls. He looks at Charles, considers the chair.
“Consider it returning the favor,” he remarks offhandedly, reminding Charles with a brief flash of memory. The cold embrace of the ocean, his desperation to hold onto the fast-vanishing submarine.
He sits down on the edge of the tub. “Should I help you in?”
Erik plunges his hand, wrist deep, into the water. It’s hot, but not scalding. He watches his fingers move idly for a moment before straightening up and toweling off his hand. He shucks off the tattered old sweater (holes near the seams) before leaning out of the doorway.
“Bath’s ready, Charlie.”
which means i’ll actually use it. you can all follow it and listen to my delightful rambles here.
I’m getting this feeling that this rp is gonna happen again.
“For such an educated man, you’re an idiot, Charlie.”
He sees without seeing. He sees a daughter and a wife that make him ache in the midst of a lazy morning that is gold. It is warmth, it is home, it is a lifetime of this, because how could anything like this possibly end?
Memories that are not his. Loose, unfitting with the rest of his head. Charles pushes at the thoughts until they crumble into the dust that he’s buried in, body stiffening from the unfamiliar alarm clock. Acute feelings creep along the cobwebs of receding sleep. Ache in his backside, red stinging along his neck and collar bones, and an hesitant urge to feel satisfied when really, he should know better.
There’s something about the way Charles touches him that makes Erik’s skin crawl. He shouldn’t touch him like this, so lovingly, so forgiving. It makes him feel like some horrid creature, crawled from the muck, that some pearly and pure man found and took pity on. The pity, too, that stings, stings in different places like nettles being dragged over naked flesh. So he moves, moves out of Charles’ grasp and touches the telepath instead, touches the little flower-bud scar on his back where the stupid bullet got him.
“You’re not so bad at chess,” Erik mumbles. It wouldn’t make a difference, really, he knows Charles can tell what’s going on in his head. He’s hesitant to move his hand elsewhere. He’s uncomfortable. He’s mentally squirming.
“So. How did you sleep?” Erik clears his throat.
For a moment I thought you'd unfollowed me and I was sad and then I checked and you hadn't unfollowed me and I am now happy. I know I haven't talked to you in a while but
it wasn't over
it still isn't over
I gave you 365 magnets. I gave you magnets everyday for a year.
(( the day i unfollow you is the day i die ))