Notes
WE NEED EVERY FIX IT FOR THIS MOVIE
While it isn't that bad, but I still want my Cherik!
Charles sighs at his reflection in the mirror.
He isn't a vain person per se, but looking at himself without his usual wavy brown hair... it reminds him of the events in Egypt. Where En Sabah Nur tried to use his power to end the world.
And it reminds him of how much power he has, of how frightening the power he holds.
Charles is not naive—although Hank keeps saying how optimistic he is—but he needs to see the brightness of the world, or else he can crush it easily. By controlling, and killing every spark of mind.
Just like what En Sabah Nur tried to do.
And Erik...
He knows how much of a fool he is for Erik. Erik has hurt him, in so many ways. While he never blames Erik for his broken spine, but Erik still betrays him. Again and again.
Charles should be angry, to stop his hopeless heart for Erik.
But he keeps on believing that there's always hope for everyone. He knows the amount of rage rampaging inside Erik—with so much love and so much pain. While they have different opinions about what they should do for mutants, but if they can talk... Charles is willing to compromise.
As long as Erik is back in his life.
He is willing to forgive everything, as long as he can have Erik by his side.
Erik might help him, protecting him from En Sabah Nur. He built the school again, together with Jean.
But in the end he still leaves.
It makes him wonder, is Charles... never enough for Erik? To at least, stay with him for awhile? Does what he feel inside his heart, is just a hopeless desire—unrequited love for Erik?
That Erik can't even accept what Charles feels?
Charles grips his wheelchair tighter. Years of him, longing for someone who seems unattainable as time pass by.
How fleeting, Erik in his life is.
"Charles," Hank knocks the door. "It's time for you to teach."
"In a moment, Hank!" He replies.
Charles takes another look at his reflection. His lips quirk slightly, because it's time for him to meet the children and all to give them all his knowledge.
It doesn't matter what his heart feels like, because he promises himself to devote his life for the children.
Days gone by. Teaching has always been his passion, to be with such bright minds. It's tiring, but the sense of fulfillment he feels—enough to sooth his aching heart.
"Peter, stop running inside the mansion," he telepathically tells the boy—whom running with his dear life. "You too, Kurt," he says when Kurt—with curious pink hair—trying to catch Peter.
"Sorry Prof!" Kurt says, "But Peter changed my shampoo with this horrendous pink dye!"
Charles rolls his eyes. "Peter, stop pranking your fellow students."
"No can do, Professor!" The boy yells outside the mansion.
He grins, living in this mansion with these children is never dull.
Charles looks outside the window, the green grass and the trees where the students are playing. Their laughters on his ears. The smiles on their faces. And their minds, bright and strong—with sense of purity.
From this window, he couldn't see the satellite Erik moved with his power.
He remembers Erik's smile, his happiness, his sadness, and the memories.
Memories...
Charles groans, rubbing his temple in annoyance, sometimes he hates how much Erik fills his mind. Especially his jealousy of Erik's life with another. It's none of his business, he should at least be glad that Erik had great 10 years with his wife and daughter—even though it turned south in the end.
He should be happy that Erik decides to go away, looking for his happiness. Maybe with another person, he thinks gloomily.
After all, what is him to Erik? Just an old friend. Whom clashed most of the course of their lives.
But Charles awares he can be such an egoist, a petty person. He wants Erik, the one he can't have.
"Charles," a strong, impeccable mind calls him.
Startled, Charles put two fingers on the side of his temple, "Erik? You're coming to Westchester?" He asks, trying to keep his hope from clouding his mind.
"Yes, Charles," amusement can be feel from Erik, it seems Charles isn't as successful to keep his hope away.
"For what purpose is your arrival?" It's not that Charles is ungrateful—but he's curious. Erik rarely goes to Westchester except if he has definite purpose.
"Just come here, I'm on the side of the lake."
Curious, Charles wheels to the front door then out to the green grass. Students wave at him before they talk to one another, walking to the mansion or just sitting under the trees. However, the area around the lake is empty aside from one person.
Standing tall is Erik, eyes looking at his reflection on the lake. He's wearing a black turtleneck, grey slacks, and black polished shoes.
Looking at him... the trendils of desire inside Charles is almost overwhelming.
"Erik?" He stops beside him.
"Hello, old friend," Erik replies, but still doesn't look away from the lake.
"May I ask again of what's your purpose here?" He asks, eyes looking up. "Not that I mind, but I'm quite curious."
"Charles," Erik looks up at the sky. "What do you desire in this life, Charles?"
You, he thinks. "For mutants and humans to live peacefully?"
"Your personal desire, Charles."
Blue eyes drop to stare at his fingers. He doesn't know what to answer Erik's question. "That's quite my personal desire," he says. "What do you expect me to say?"
Erik grins. "Well, that sounds a lot like you."
He smiles at that. "What's yours, Erik?" For mutants to be strong enough to be on even ground with humans? To have a normal life with wife and kids? He knows how much Erik desires for a family.
But not with him.
"You."
Charles blinks in confusion. "Wait... what?"
"I said it's you that I desire."
Is he dreaming? Or is he hallucinating? Pretty sure En Sabah Nur didn't wreck his mind that much, but maybe Charles just didn't know before.
"I've been thinking the past few months, isn't it weird how our fates are so entwined? For years, since we were young until now. We used to be close, but then we part ways more often than not," he says. "I was in Cuba weeks ago, thinking of what happened. And I—I'm tired, Charles. I want to be away from you no more."
"Is it the guilt?" Charles asks. "Because you don't have to. I have never blamed you for what happened in Cuba."
"No it's—never about guilt." He shakes his head. "While I do feel guilt, and I'm aware I have hurt you so many times—I apologize," he says. "But mostly I just want to be by your side." He continues, "I'm willing to make up of what I've done for the rest of my life, if you let me to be back."
"But, of course you can go back, Erik." His brows furrow in confusion. "I've told you that you're always welcome to be here."
He laughs. "That's not what I really mean, Charles." Erik kneels before his wheelchair, hardened hands taking on of his in between. "What I'm saying is, I want to be with you." He kisses the back of Charles' hand. "For us to be together."
Blue eyes widen. His heart, thumping inside his ribs as his hope expanding.
"If... if you don't feel the same way..." Erik grips his hand tighter. "It'll be fine. I won't ask anything more than to be your friend," he says.
He brings his palm to his mouth, blue eyes burn from impending tears.
"We can try to compromise, to talk our differences. We can make it work." He gulps. "So, please Charles..."
"Erik," Charles interrupts and finally, Erik raises his head. Eyes looking at teary blue orbs. "Yes, I accept."
"Being friends or—"
Charles chuckles. "The latter, Erik."
Slowly, a smile begins to grace Erik's face. "Charles I—" He leans forward, hands on the back of Charles' neck as his forehead touch the other's. "Thank you, thank you for giving me another chance."
This close, he can see the stubble on Erik's jaw, the freckles on his nose, the sheen of tears on Erik's eyes, and the warmth of his mind enveloping his. Erik is beautiful, everything about him is beautiful.
And this person, someone Charles thought to be unattainable, desires him too.
It feels too good to be true.
But it's real. The warmth from the palms on his neck, the sweep of breaths on his face. Everything is real.
"Thank you, for choosing to be here." Charles strokes his cheeks, feeling the sharp cheekbones and the graze of stubble.
"I'm late for years, but it's better than never. Right?"
He laughs. "Of course, Erik."
For years Charles tried to bury his hope and love for the man before him. But now, here is Erik. In his arms, with his lips on his own. It's hard, full of desperation, and rage from separation. But it's also sweet, like the feeling of coming home, in serenity.
Notes
Too tired to edit though, so please comment. Thank you.
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