Was he bitter? Yes. And no. Things had already begun to change in ways he had not imagined. Yet he realized the loss of his legs was more of a blow to his ego than anything else. He ran his fingers gently across the cold metal of his wheelchair. This unfeeling device symbolized so much about him; he now felt restricted, helpless, and weaker than he'd ever felt in his life. His wheelchair was the embodiment of those feelings.
His handicap was ironic in a way. His mutation granted him abilities that were of an unfathomable magnitude to humans. Yet, he had lost one of the most basic bodily functions that all humans around him still possessed. He was dependant now. He sighed. Surely he'd get used to his inability to walk. Still, the desire and yearning to walk again would never leave, he could tell that.
MacTaggart was so kind to him. She talked as she pushed him through the grounds. Her voice was soothing. It kept his mind off of the unpleasantries it could be dwelling upon. She spoke of the future hopefully. She spoke of his future. And of hers. He could sense her desire- almost an expectation- for their two futures to be intertwined. Charles couldn't deny that he felt that same desire, but he knew he could not succumb to such a want. As long as she was with him, or even in contact with him, she was in danger. She'd almost become collateral damage because of him, mere days before. This was a risk she was willing to take, but one he would not allow. She'd already sacrificed so much for his sake. She'd believed in him and trusted him. It seemed as though he'd given her nothing in return, except for excruciating trouble. There was a way he could change that, and he vowed he would.
"I would never tell them where you are, you know that right?" she said, pulling him out of his thoughts. He smiled. Of course she was being sincere, but who was to say she could actually keep that information to herself? She could be placed in great danger if someone wanted access to that information. She knelt down to his eye level as she addressed him, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear. He sensed her desires and felt similar ones stirring in himself. He was going to fix things, so what would a moment of indulgence matter?
"Yes," he smiled. "I know that."
They leaned into each other, their lips gently brushing. He let his lips linger upon hers for a moment more, gathering up his resolve. He knew what he must do, and there was no better moment to do it.
"I love you," he whispered against her lips, regretting the fact that in the days and months to follow, she would not recall his confession. It was because of his love, he reminded himself, that he had to do this. She kissed him again, gently. With his lips pressed to hers, he slowly raised his fingertips to his temple, closed his eyes, and began to clean up the rather large mess he had made.
"I only remember pieces," she admitted. Her superiors were upset, as was expected. Still, try as she might, she couldn't remember most of the events that had occurred in the past few days. She knew why her memory was lacking, of course. She was lucky to remember what she did, though she wasn't sure if Charles had left those pieces of memory there intentionally.
"Sunny skies," she recalled. "Trees," She added. There were more unimportant flashes behind her eyes. Nothing she remembered was of any consequence. Save one. "A kiss…" she muttered, a girlish smile fluttering to her lips.