Disclaimer: The X-Men characters in this fiction were not my creation. This is merely a fan fiction.

A/N: I've always been James McAvoy's fan ever since "Inside I'm Dancing", really great movie. And I can't believe he's been achieving so much now! And yes, in this fiction, I'll write more of the emotional Charles Xavier, rather than the saint, calm Professor X.

- Chapter One -

Custom

He walked into the laboratory of Oxford University. One of his hand was holding a cup of coffee while the other was holding a stack of files. The scent of chemicals and test tubes filled his smelling senses, covering the hot coffee fumes. He walked towards a table with a microscope and multiple petri dishes containing specimens. He positioned the paper cup on the right of the table and left the files on the other side of the table. He grabbed onto one of the petri dish labelled "Specimen H #40" and placed under the microscope. He took a sip of the coffee before he started doing his work.

It was 4.00am in the morning. Only a few students left in the laboratory, which meant that no mind talks. Two of them had rested their heads on the table beside of the microscope. Peace, was the only word to mime. In the laboratory, there were no days or nights for the students. There were no windows for them to look at the sky to assume time. For several hours, he did not seem to have researched anything useful.

Time seemed to pass expeditiously. He heard the alarm on the table rang. He almost jumped at the instant but he tried to remain calm, on the other hand, the snoozing lab-mates literally bounced off their chairs. He gazed onto his watch to find the time was 8.45am. It was time for his Perception lecture. He made hasty steps to reach to the lecture hall. The lecture hall was enormous in size, which can accommodate for about 1,000 students at a time. The lecture hall was already almost filled up with students. He slowly walked onto the stage and headed to microphone stand. People talked in their minds. With a flick of his mind with a tiny bit of concentration, he could almost finish reading most of the students' minds present. He understood the intention of some of the students who were not supposed to be in this hall. More than 10% of the students attended the class had a crush on him; 30% of the students doubted his ability in teaching due to his young age, and others just came for the sake of the course they were taking.

"Students who are not taking up this subject, please leave the hall." He spoke to the microphone. A few left, while the other additional number of students refused to leave. He then planted the idea of leaving the hall into their mind. 30% of the students left the hall.

"Thank you," he pressed a smile on his face, proud of what he actually did. He took a chalk on the blackboard and started scribbling.

"Today, we're going to discuss about effect of perception." He drew in air through his nostrils before he continued. "When you are blindfolded, you can still recognise the smell and taste through the senses you have."

He asked for volunteers to conduct an experiment. He picked one of the students who raised their hands. He first blindfolded him, then he took out a few boxes, each containing a type of edible element in it, as he explained. He opened the first box, it was a piece of chocolate. He fed the young adult.

"Can you tell us what did you taste?" He asked the boy.

"Chocolate," he replied with a smirk.

"No, what did you taste before you know it was chocolate?"

"Sweetness, cocoa, milk," he tried to state the ingredients to produce chocolate.

"Yes, and how did you know it was chocolate?"

"Because it tastes like chocolate?" The class chuckled.

"Well, what I'm trying to deliver is that, due to experience, we are able to perceive. Just like our friend here, he had experienced eating chocolate before. Although he could not see what he was tasting, through his experience, he remembered the taste. Therefore, his mind comprehended and told him that he was eating chocolate."

He then resumed to selecting a few more candidates to complete the experiment. The other boxes contained artificial flavourings, flavoured condom (no tasting was necessary, he just asked his student to smell it), bougainvillea and fried centipede (according to the student, it tasted like fried chicken). Students had been enjoying the experiments. He explained to the students of how our brains and nerves were connected and how perception occurred.

Throughout the 2-hour class, the class had been communicative. He had asked students questions and perceptions towards emotions. Students were opened to discuss their own emotions towards everything they felt. Some students shared their experiences and a few teared. It sounded like a therapy class as he had to comfort and encourage the students. Overall, he would rate the class 8 out of 10. Students seemed to enjoy his lectures. He was pretty proud of himself.

After the class, female students approached him for having tutorial classes. Some made him lunches, some offered him more. He was very famous among females in Oxford University, due to his astounding intelligence and sophistication, and not to mention his charming looks. His curly dark hair was short and brushed to the back, leaving a few strands dangling in front of his forehead. His enticing sky blue eyes always shimmered under lights. His lips were shaped with temptation, alluring people for kisses. Many females had fallen for him at first sight. Yet, he was particular in choosing mates. It was known that he was still single because he had never committed into any relationship, yet.

As he finished replying each students' requests, he strolled back to the laboratory to continue his research. He had not been sleeping for 2 days in a row and his last meal was sandwiches from a day before. Caffeine was the only substance that he kept him sane.

"Xavier," he picked up his ringing phone.

"Hi, Charles," a woman's voice called with an amiable tone. She was overdoing it and it sent him goose bumps to grow on his skin.

"Raven," he recognised her voice. He stated with a fake-startling tone. "What a surprise."

"Very funny, Charles," she answered with irony. "I'm calling to remind you to eat."

Now that he recalled, he ate the last time because she called to remind. Guilt-ridden, he quickly changed the topic. "How is my dear mansion? Have you been-"

"When's your last meal?" she cut his lines, knowing his intention. She had known and lived with him for almost 20 years, a non-blood related brother to her; she knew everything about him. She continued to tease. "Hmm? Charles."

"Have you been watering the uh-"

"Charles," she lengthened the enunciation, forcing him to reply.

"I had sandwiches earlier," he replied monotonously.

"When you said 'earlier', can you be more precise?" She continued to push.

He sucked in clear air before replying. "Two days ago-"

"CHARLES!" She bellowed. He had to remove the phone from his ears. He swore under his breath. Everyone in the lab could hear her roar. "Aghhh! You can't live like this. I'm coming to babysit you."

"No, you won't!" He tried to lower his volume. He tried to grumble in a softer tone, which came out like the moan of a sick old dog. "Don't you dare come and screw my work. Do you remember the last time you went to Harvard and almost jeopardised my degree?"

"You mean your relationships with hookers," she insulted.

"Raven," he called with a warning tone. "They are not hookers. And you did almost murder my degree by hiding in my dorm."

"No one's going to murder your degree with your psychic ability, Charles. You brainwashed them, anyway."

"That doesn't mean it's right." He fought. "And I'm forbidding you to come over to Oxford."

"Whatever, Oxford is not my place anyway." He imagined she rolled her eyes. "Please just go eat something."

"I have sandwiches," he spoke, "I will eat once you're done yakking."

"Fine, then I'm done. I'll pester you again another time. Hmp." She left the conversation with a 'doot' on the line.

He slid back the phone to his pocket and reoccupied himself with his specimens. He continued to scribble notes in the papers in one of the files. The number of students entering the laboratory surged almost every few minutes. Voices kept rushing into his mind and he could not concentrate anymore. It was evening when he decided to return to his room to rest.