Title: Stolen Moments
Characters Involved: Kaeha Malik; Erik Lehnsherr
Stage in Storyline/Relationship: Unacknowledged feelings that Erik isn't quite ready to face.
Brief Summary: Erik will never know how she magically stumbles upon him each night. It's aggravating and annoying and yet painfully comforting.
Stilted images careen behind shut eyelids in bright, nauseating glory. His mother's kind face, lined with concern and pale with fear, swims through the endless haze of sheer horror. She whispers quiet comforts that twist into blistering accusations. You could have saved me! she screams, Schmidt's laughter bouncing off of warped walls and driving the metallokinetic insane.
He pleads for mercy in raspy breaths and begs the fictional version of his mother to believe him. In a cruel twist of irony, a gun materializes in her hand before she fires a bullet through Erik's temple. The realistic ripple of searing pain jolts Erik awake, bewildered irises snapping open and darting around an unfamiliar room. It takes a moment for his brain to function through the storm of pain-hurt-agony-I'm sorry.
Once clarity erases lingering traces of his nightmare, Erik remembers. He remembers flashing a smirk at Charles when the scholar presented his old yet well preserved room. He remembers jogging along cobblestone paths in a surreal daze. He remembers sharp hazel eyes staring over the top of a book at him in distrust. He remembers that he's safe in Xavier's Institute.
Finally, his throat loosens enough for air to rush into grateful lungs. Pushing himself up, he sits upon the vast bed splattered with cold sweat. Fingers press against temples throbbing a cruel staccato rhythm. Despite the dream slowly seeping away, Erik still feels bitterness stabbing into his stomach like a sharp, twisting knife. The metal bender knows what must be done.
Throwing on the jacket carelessly draped across a chair, Erik slips out of his room with practiced ease. Silent footsteps and dark clothing nearly meld into the shadows dancing across dark hallways. He pays no attention to the path, feet moving on autopilot as he keeps his mind carefully blank. Alerting Charles, especially a wary and hostile Charles, with trivial nightmares is an experience he refused to repeat.
Brass hinges barely creak as they swing open with a lazy wave from his wrist. Electrical switches magically flip on when he strides through the threshold, casting a bright warm light before quickly extinguishing. A sole table lamp glows like a beacon amidst the darkness in the library. Lithe limbs fold into the plush chair beside the light in one unceremonious mess.
He can't pinpoint the exact reason he runs into libraries after a distressing episode. Perhaps it's the scent of old books, the taste of quality liquor he smuggled and the darkness that envelops instead of stifles. Shaking his dark head, Erik dismisses the odd thought while levitating a crystalline bottle of whiskey and its matching glass towards the table. Attaching strips of metal into transparent bases was proving to be an excellent decision.
Amber liquid spills into delicately cut glass to the brim. He contemplates starting a fire before banishing the idea when the blissful numbness of alcohol surpasses warmth. Reclining into his chair, Erik is about to take his first sip when there's a loud thud followed by muffled French swears. Eyebrows knot until the door swings open and Kaeha stumbles through, hopping on one foot as bronzed fingers soothe injured toes.
"Classy." Erik comments in pure condescension.
He waits for her to throw a scathing glare. Predictability wins when she does lift her gaze to flash a burning look of hatred. What he doesn't predict is her irate expression morphing into a blank and almost hesitant stare after two slow blinks. It's a clear indication of the energy mutant sensing his unsettled state. Erik expects her to turn around in discomfort and leave. Of course, Kaeha marches to her own tune.
Sauntering into the library like she owns it, fingers emit sparks that fly into the fireplace and set waiting timber on fire. Flames roar into life, tempering into a tamed inferno that lights the hearth without completely chasing shadows away. Stiffened muscles relax when the half of his frame facing away from the fire remains laced in darkness.
"I used to enjoy football - soccer, if you prefer the term." She abruptly states.
His puzzled look turns into one of wariness, internally debating whether he should summon Charles to determine the sanity of her mind. Hazel irises roll as Kaeha settles herself atop a couch cushion. The flow of graceful motion is enthralling enough for his gaze to linger. Thankfully, she notices nothing. After a moment, Erik scoffs and sinks back into silence.
"Best moments of my childhood, really. I was a sickly child before my powers manifested but once they did, I spent all my days running in open fields with mud on my face. My mother had seizures each time I returned home." Kaeha elaborates without missing a beat.
Gentle warmth suffuses her typically neutral tone, softening each syllable and glazing every word. He would never openly admit it but this is the voice Erik secretly covets. Only fond memories whispered into the night renders Kaeha so vulnerable. Of course, she selects the ones easiest to give away as they bear no importance but it's still a gesture of trust.
One act of trust garners another which is why Erik slowly shuts off segments of his mind. Constant vigilance dims, sliding away from the forefront of his consciousness as coiled muscles completely unwind. Eyes shutter close and the metallokinetic is able to visualize endless spans of hills and the warm caress of sunshine on his face. The image unfurls and expands when Kaeha continues talking about mischievous pranks.
Rusty laughter spills out of pale lips at one ridiculous trick involving sheep, neon dye and tablecloths. The picture of a young Kaeha, one with full cheeks and eyes bright with innocence, as she endures running laps as punishment burns fiercely like the inferno she made. Light seeps into the dark corners of his mind, haunting dreams seared away and replaced with warm memories instead.
For the first time in an age, Erik is relaxed. It's a rare occurrence for his mind to be preoccupied with childish fantasies than murder or vengeance. Her voice mingles with the crackling of wood, weaving a lullaby that submerges him deeper into endless waves of peace. He's so far under her spell that it takes him long minutes to realize Kaeha stopped talking.
The epiphany propels Erik onto his feet, metal ornaments thrumming in response to leashed panic. Sharp winter irises flick across the room in a meticulous sweep for signs of foul play. What the metal bender finds instead is Kaeha fast asleep, arms curled around toned legs and cheek cushioned by denim-clad knees.
A long sigh drags out of his lips. Clenched fingers release the death grip they held around fragile glass, depositing it upon a table as he shuffles over to her side. Shoulders roll, leather sliding past his arms only to be delicately swathed around the dozing brunette. His fingers catch on strands falling free from her messy bun when he moves away.
Erik freezes in place. All thoughts dissipate from his mind in one sudden rush as fingers tangle further into Kaeha's hair on instinct. The sensation is akin to silk or satin gliding over his palm. It's so painfully soft that his restraint crumbles further, knuckles dragging up past a slender neck before grazing against her warm cheek. Each feather-light touch is only seconds long but it feels like eons to the transfixed man.
When Kaeha mumbles in her rare bout of sleep and burrows deeper into her makeshift pillow, Erik finally snaps out of it. His hand withdraws fast enough to give his wrist whiplash as he reels back in horror. Feet stumble and catch on soft carpeting in his clumsy scramble backwards. It's a miracle to reach his chair and thus a safe distance away from Kaeha.
"Was zur Hölle?" He gapes breathlessly, staring at his tingling palm like a foreign limb.
Silence in the form of trembling pale skin is the only reply he receives. Curses and swears that could rival a sailor's arsenal bubble in his throat only to extinguish when he hears quiet rattling. Teeth grind as the metal bender forces himself to calm down and cease unconsciously shaking metal gilded bookshelves.
Leave. Do it; leave now. His mind advices.
He smartly heeds the warning and quickly exits, a solitary backwards glance thrown over his shoulder before doors close shut. Erik doesn't think too deeply about why he snaps his fingers and slides the steel lock into place. He's certain it has nothing to do with how fragile and delicate Kaeha appears, drowning in his leather jacket and doused in warm fire light.
Of course not. Erik firmly chants like a desperate mantra.
The same string of words hound his mind up winding staircases, through dark hallways and finally into his own bed. It takes a surprisingly short amount of time for Erik to find the solace of sleep. When his head sinks into the firm pillow, eyelids droop down like lead curtains while his mind drifts into the heady haze of half-sleep.
After he drifts into unconsciousness, Erik dreams for the second time that night. This time there are no nightmares or stowed skeletons that creep out to wreak havoc. His mind is filled with wonderful things instead; blades of grass snapping beneath his feet, echoing laughter ringing in his ear, dark tresses burning copper against firelight and warm skin carving an imprint into his hand. By morning, Erik remembers nothing of his dreams. It should concern him but he doesn't care.
It was still the best sleep he's had in years.
Author Babbling Time:
Greetings readers both old and new but equally loved! :D First off, thank you very much if you've read 'Forging Middle Ground' and continued on to this little adventure. I appreciate every single one of you and your support means the world to me. C':
Next off, here's part one in a series of extras that I never got to squeeze into FMG. I do intend to make more that orient around the Kaeha/Erik dynamic as well as everyone else so look forward to that!
Real talk though: my free time is now extremely limited and updates will be fairly erratic. However, I promise to make some time and churn out more chapters so do stick around if you like what you've read so far! Thanks again for reading! *makes a heart sign*