Written for a prompt and I decided to post it here too. I know it's not really usual for FFN, but I hope you like it anyways.
Put in any character in the space of 'y/n'. Hell, go for Charles if you want (although...no, okay, don't go for Charles. Sorry. Anyone but Charles).
Yeah. Enjoy.
You sit at the pond side, dangling your feet in the cool water. One hand creates a wave, and the other a dolphin out of the foam. It cackles, then explodes in the air and disappears.
On your right is the mansion, glimmering in the sunset. Charles' mansion. Your home. Well, it was. Doesn't feel like it too much any more.
Sighing, you slip into the murky water, creating an air bubble around your head. The weeds clear in front of you. Tears run down your cheeks as his face appears in your mind.
"Erik," you whisper to yourself, your voice clear in your own ears. "Why did you, Erik?"
'Why did you?' Such a little question, but oh so much meaning. You want to ask, 'Why did you abandon me? Why did you say you loved me? Why did you leave me with this growth – this reminder – in the pits of my stomach?' But you don't. You're too afraid of the answers.
When you resurface, your air bites your cheeks like his teeth on your skin and your hands rub your goose-pimpled arms. Just like he used to.
You peer up and sigh. Some lights are still on in the dorms. They're probably playing Truth or Dare again – a game that always ends badly with potentially dangerous, immature mutant children around.
Charles wouldn't be able to get out of bed and deal with it, so you guess you'll have to. Just as you think it, the professor smiles in your mind. "Thank you," he says, promptly falling asleep.
Rolling your eyes, you start up the steps. Something startles you and you turn, your hands automatically outstretched against the threat.
"Whoa," the man says. "Since when have you been hostile to me?" He smiles, green eyes piercing yours.
"Erik." You cough, lost for words. "You look...Well." His face is tanned; his hair washed and combed; his body toned.
Eyebrow raised, he replies, "Thank you, y/n. You do, too. Although..."
"Although?" you ask.
"Have you put on weight?"
Your mouth drops, your hands clench and behind Erik the pond roars. "What did I say?" he asks innocently.
"Put on weight? Put on weight? Of course I've put on weight, you... you..." Bad words pop into your mind, but none are bad enough for him.
He stares, confused. Testily, you sigh. "I'm pregnant," you whisper. His mouths drops. It would be comical, if you weren't so annoyed.
"Preg...nant?" He says it like he's never heard of the word before.
"Yes. There's a child inside me. Yours."
"Ah." You grit your teeth. He seems to sense your annoyance. "Look, y/n, I'm really sorry. I had to go."
"Oh, really?" you say. "Leave your best friend and fiancée? For six months?! What was so important you had to do that, Erik?!"
He sighs. Upstairs, the children hush and the lights turn off quickly. Perhaps you shouted a little too loudly. "You could have at least left a note." Annoyingly, tears prick your eyes. You brush them away. The love of your life coming back should probably be a pretty good day, but you feel nothing but anger.
"It was important," he says simply. "For your safety, y/n, I couldn't tell you."
"What about Charles? The most powerful mutant in the world? Why didn't you tell him? At least he could have put my mind at rest!"
Erik shifts uncomfortably under your ferocious gaze. He mumbles something. "What?" you ask.
"Charles knew," he says louder, avoiding your eyes.
"Uhuh." You nod slowly, calmly, although your stomach boils. "Okay." Then you turn and walk inside, slamming the door behind you. Erik knocks once, but you ignore him.
The...the...! You can't even think of a word for him. The baby kicks inside you. "Don't," you warn, "please don't. I just want to sleep." You can't be bothered to walk upstairs. The couch looks so inviting. One of the mutants, a small boy who doesn't sleep, sits on another of the sofas. "Do you mind if I...?" you ask. He shakes his head. Thankfully, he's not a talker.
You're asleep before your head hits the pillow – or so Charles tells you in the morning, after you've shouted at him for nearly an hour. Still, you don't know how you're covered in a blanket when you wake. Or why the smell of it makes your stomach fill with butterflies; even though the scent is one you have latched onto your memory.
To your right is an envelope with your name scrawled on it, in a handwriting you know too well. An explanation perhaps? An apology? Curiosity nibbles at your fingertips. You reach for it.
With only one way to find out, you sit up, open it and begin to read.
Sniffing, you rub your belly. "He's a bit of a twuzzoc, isn't he?" you say quietly to the lump. Erik's letter, tear-stained but legible, is clasped in your hand. The baby kicks, as if in response, and you laugh in spite of yourself. "I've missed him," you whisper.
Your throat catches when a deep voice behind you says, "Funny. I've missed you too." Slowly, you stand and turn, gently resting the letter on the table.
"Erik," you sigh. He holds and finger to his lips, and points to the letter with the other hand.
"I told you I had a reason." He raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Well, I know that now," you reply as he chuckles. He steps around the sofa until he's standing next to you.
"I'm sorry," he says, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Really. I'm sorry."
"I know."
"So, so sorry..." he whispers, leaning down and pressing his soft lips to yours.
To you, he smells like the night and the day at the same time. The darkness and the light in the world. Two sides of the same coin. You sense there's still things he's not telling you; things he's seen, things that have happened to him. But you know that, in time, as you wrap your arms around his neck and toy with his hair, he'll tell you.
Better late than never.