Going on like nothing had changed, that was Erik's grand plan. Sure he may have just had a possibly life-changing realization, one that he was still unsure was totally accurate, and sure he was feeling a little shaken by said realization, but Erik was going to try his damnest not to let it show.
By that reasoning, and after a breakfast with Alex which consisted of a glass of water and half a burned piece of toast - which was really all that his abused stomach could handle at the moment, Erik headed to find Charles, as he had drunkenly promised he would in between acting like an idiot and making a complete fool of himself. And continuing with that strategy, when after attending to the horse that required his expertise, a black stallion with a cold, Charles invited him to join him for coffee in his private sitting room, Erik couldn't refuse. For the past two weeks they'd grown to be something close to friends and Erik, (in hindsight how blind he'd been) had looked for any excuse to spend time with him. If he suddenly started to give him the cold shoulder now it would be very suspicious.
It's hard at first sure, being alone in the small room with him Erik over-analyzed every one of his movements and over-thought every word out of both of their mouths, but after a while he began to calm down. The conversation flowed, Charles good-naturedly teased him about the night before, and passed on what rumors had spread about his drunken escapades. From there they simply talked, and occasionally lapsed into comfortable silence.
Charles' fingers were warm where they rested lightly against Erik's wrist. There was no pressure in the contact; Charles was still leery of touching him, despite Erik's attempts to put him at ease in his company. "Palm reading, really Charles?" Erik couldn't find it in himself to picture the down to earth young man catering to the delusional hordes of enthused believers that gathered without fail around their fortune telling booth during every show.
"Don't be condescending!" Charles said defensively, but Erik could hear the laughter bubbling at the surface of his voice, "It's really very interesting, if not entirely accurate. Just humor me at least."
Erik had already agreed to it. He'd been finding it harder and harder to say no to Charles as his stay with the group grew longer, and he couldn't deny to himself, no matter how much he wanted to, the warm glow of pleasure the proximity to the younger man kindled in his chest, especially now that he recognized it for what it was.
"Okay, look here, this one's your heart line. You've got a lovely heart line Erik, good and deep."
"I don't know if I should take that as a complement or not."
"Oh definitely! See at how it begins in the middle of your hand, and crosses this other one here? Seems you're a bit of a romantic hmm, falls in love quickly and passionately, but is also vulnerable to heartbreak."
"Is that what this stuff is all about then? Romance and such? That explains why all those simpletons like it so much." Erik said gruffly, wanting to steer the subject matter into safer waters.
"that's not all its about, although there's nothing wrong with wanting to hear about love. See this little gap indicates emotional trauma."
Erik flinched despite himself, and Charles turned his wide eyes upwards in sympathy. Erik hadn't told him the details of his parents' accident but he knew that he'd lost them recently. The fingers pressed tighter and the man attached to them began to gnaw at his lips anxiously searching for something to say, face full of apologies and dismay at having upset Erik. Uncomfortable with the fact that he'd made Charles unhappy, Erik tapped his knuckle against his, causing the other man to jump slightly, "Well, what else does it say?"
"Uh let's see, oh! All these little crosses represent decisions of considerable importance, and you've got quite a few my friend! There's a break in your life line that means a sudden drastic change in lifestyle which seems pretty accurate to me looking at how you came to be here. The really faint one right down the centre is your fate line, not everybody has one actually, it means that you make your own path in life. The overall shape of your hand says things too. You've nice long fingers, and a slim palm. Commonly found on the arms of moody introverts."
"Ha!"
"Again with the scepticism. Why, does this seem wrong to you? Have I made some completely outlandish suggestions or something?"
"For all I know you could be making this up, just pulling things out of your arse to take me for a ride."
"So are you admitting that it sounds true?" Charles' eyes lit up gleefully and at some point he'd leaned across the table so that his face was much closer to Erik's than it had been at the beginning. Erik took advantage of the situation to admire the light freckles that lay across the bridge of his nose.
Erik responded with a huff of annoyance but it was pathetically lacking in conviction. Charles appeared to chalk that as an affirmative and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.
Silence drifted between them for a while, comfortable, while Erik let Charles feel satisfied with himself. It was good to see him looking so unashamedly happy and Erik was entirely content to just watch him discreetly from the corner of his eye. But after a couple minutes the cheerful expression slid away and was replaced by a distant sadness that Erik definitely didn't like.
"I actually wanted to be a fortune teller for a little while, if you can believe it." He absently traced the rim of his empty glass. "Our former seer, Fiona Knoblach, she liked to be called the Darkmother, dramatic I know, taught me. She was Jean's grandmother and we were always running around together since we were the only children in the group at the time. We kept stirring up trouble and to keep us occupied Fiona started teaching us the tricks of the trade. I though it was amazing, being able to tell all that about a person just my looking at their hand. I felt like...it was like being connected to them, to their souls and hearts and minds even though we were complete strangers, to share with them such intimacy was thrilling."
Charles' eyes went misty as he reminisced, clearly lost in the past and Erik could picture it too; Charles as a child, red-cheeked and plump-limbed darting between tents with a toddler version of Jean Grey stumbling in his wake. Even in the present the red haired woman obviously adored the man, always softening when he swung by to talk to her in her tent.
"So what changed?" Erik prompted, sorry to drag Charles away from such obviously fond memories but honestly curious.
"Oh, well," Charles pinkened to the tips of his ears and tucked his hands into his lap self consciously, "Sebastian said that I should move to the big top, that I was wasted as a sideshow."
Of course it had been Shaw. He probably hadn't been able to stand seeing Charles thriving out of his care and decided to reroute him to an act that needed his direct guidance to have more control over him. Erik's fingers rolled into a fist against the cream-coloured tablecloth and Charles must have noticed because he rushed to reassure him.
"And he was right, of course, not that I think sideshows aren't marvelous too, but I love working with the animals and the customers enjoy the show so much. I'm happy to be able to do so much for the company really, it's flattering."
And loath he was to admit it Erik could see that it was the truth. Charles' interactions with the animals were a joy to behold and he seemed to have a supernatural bond with the horses that made their performances look completely natural, as if they hadn't been rehearsed a thousand times over. And Charles always looked radiantly happy flying on their backs and dancing around their feet. But the thought of Shaw ripping Charles away from something that he loved still filled Erik with the dark rage that he was beginning to associate with the man.
He stayed for about an hour with Charles, but Shaw would be finished rounds soon and there was an unspoken understanding between them that they mustn't let Shaw catch them alone together. The man was inclined to fits of paranoid jealousy, and men had been thrown from the train for infractions much less suspicious than tea with Charles.
Erik had thought that Shaw's fears were unfounded and far fetched, but he now understood, after the hour had flown by and left him desperate for another, that that was not the case.
It would have been easier by far if Erik was simply attracted to him, but it was clear to him now that he was very probably falling in love with Charles Xavier.