Charles Xavier (
lookingforhope) wrote2017-03-25 10:58 pm
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This has been the most perfect sleep I've had in years.. [for
alphaophiuchi]
... and I don't deserve it, do I?
Blue eyes flashed open and a body bolted into an upright position, breath shallow and rapid as fingers cinched into the blanket he'd been laying on before one hand lifted and pressed against his chest. Charles looked down and closed his eyes in relief. It wasn't real. It was all a dream..
Wasn't it?
As the minutes wore on, he wasn't so sure anymore and finally it occurred to him to look around; to see where he actually was. Not in Westchester. Or.. Mexico. But then he realised after turning his head to look out the window of the luxury suite, some thirty floors up. Charles moved to it and his brow wrinkled before pinching, as if it was all slowly coming back. First at the lights of the City of Sin below, and then at the reflection of himself in the window itself.
"I've come back," he whispered to himself. Of course you did, Charles came an answer, only it was several voices reciting the words collectively; his older self, Logan, Laura, Erik, Gabriel, Devi, and Draco. A mixture of past and present and future, across worlds and universes now.
Charles exhaled and backed up, turning to look for the device that was no doubt left for him and after grabbing it, he left Magnolia and quickly hurried to the Leisurebrook district after checking his phone to make sure his husband was still there.
When he arrived, Charles moved slowly up the path, remembering one memory after the other while past conversations and tender moments between him and his love echoed. By the time he reached the door, tears pricked the corners and lower lids of both eyes. A hand reached for the door and it was then he hesitated.
Would he still be there? It had been so long, hadn't it? Was there a chance Draco moved on?
Instead, Charles rang the doorbell and stepped back with his head down, now extremely nervous and worried that things would have changed too much and the man whom he declared was everything to him, would find that he was nothing to the other now.
Blue eyes flashed open and a body bolted into an upright position, breath shallow and rapid as fingers cinched into the blanket he'd been laying on before one hand lifted and pressed against his chest. Charles looked down and closed his eyes in relief. It wasn't real. It was all a dream..
Wasn't it?
As the minutes wore on, he wasn't so sure anymore and finally it occurred to him to look around; to see where he actually was. Not in Westchester. Or.. Mexico. But then he realised after turning his head to look out the window of the luxury suite, some thirty floors up. Charles moved to it and his brow wrinkled before pinching, as if it was all slowly coming back. First at the lights of the City of Sin below, and then at the reflection of himself in the window itself.
"I've come back," he whispered to himself. Of course you did, Charles came an answer, only it was several voices reciting the words collectively; his older self, Logan, Laura, Erik, Gabriel, Devi, and Draco. A mixture of past and present and future, across worlds and universes now.
Charles exhaled and backed up, turning to look for the device that was no doubt left for him and after grabbing it, he left Magnolia and quickly hurried to the Leisurebrook district after checking his phone to make sure his husband was still there.
When he arrived, Charles moved slowly up the path, remembering one memory after the other while past conversations and tender moments between him and his love echoed. By the time he reached the door, tears pricked the corners and lower lids of both eyes. A hand reached for the door and it was then he hesitated.
Would he still be there? It had been so long, hadn't it? Was there a chance Draco moved on?
Instead, Charles rang the doorbell and stepped back with his head down, now extremely nervous and worried that things would have changed too much and the man whom he declared was everything to him, would find that he was nothing to the other now.
no subject
It was proven in the fact that he was more likely to attend events alone, still dressed to the nines, looking slightly lonely; it was proven in the fact that he still lived in their shared home and still wore his wedding ring on his left hand. He wasn't necessarily hopeful that Charles would ever return to him, but he wouldn't forget him. It would be impossible to do so, after all they'd been through.
In fact, that very moment, Draco was in - as he most often was - and settled on the couch, slowly reading and sipping at a cup of tea. It was a very normal, quiet sort of time, though all the more quiet for Charles' absence. It was lonely.
The sound of the doorbell was almost too loud, cutting through Draco's peace like a knife, though he'd had his fair share of visitors since his husband's disappearance; people were eager to try and fuss over him, to feed him, to make sure he was doing all right. He appreciated it, of course, but it wasn't the same. At the sound of the bell, he wondered who of the usual suspects it was, and rose to his feet, tea and book both abandoned for the time being.
But when he opened the door, his heart nearly stopped. His mouth fell open, and he gaped - he couldn't help it. He had to be seeing things, surely. There was no way-
"Charles?"
no subject
Everything came back, as it was meant to. The smell of Draco hit that part of Charles' mind that acquainted him with coming home and it made him cling tighter in case something came along to try and tear them apart again. And somewhere in the moments of that embrace, he uttered the other man's name.
"I'm sorry,"
He was sorry for many things, none of them anything either of them could control, though Charles felt the need to say it as he pulls back to look at Draco right there on the step of the house they shared together.
"I'm sorry."
no subject
He was back, and it felt almost as though he'd never left, for the familiarity that rushed in. Tears pricked grey eyes as Draco clung right back, holding Charles tight, as though he could keep him from disappearing again with sheer force of will. And he'd certainly try, that was for damn sure.
Draco pressed his face against his husband's shoulder, burying his nose against his neck to inhale him deeply. Memories that never really left flooded his mind, and a tiny hopeful thought sprang up: we could make more now.
Only when Charles pulled back to look at him did his words really register, and Draco's mouth twisted as he tried harder not to cry. It probably wouldn't work, but he had to give it a proper go. Pride and all that. He shook his head; he swallowed thickly again; he gripped Charles' arms tightly, still refusing to let him go.
"You don't have to be sorry."