01. Silly
Title: Silly
Rating: G
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Genre: Romance/Angst
Word Count: 410
Summary: Post-Shaw; Wherein Charles can't sleep, so he thinks.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here.
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He twists and turns in bed, the expensive sheets below rustling as the wind howls outside, a branch tapping rhythmically against his window. It’s in quiet nights like these that thoughts and voices are the loudest, and for Charles, it would usually be the nights when he would sleep almost immediately, and oh so soundly.
But that night, as with the night before, and the night before and the many nights before, he wasn’t able to. Sighing, he sat up, arms supporting his weight as he stared down at his legs. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to being crippled, but he supposed that he would soon enough. It had been, after all, quite a while since he had lost them.
Since he had lost Erik.
Charles wondered when the man had become so important to him. Erik had only entered his life for a short period of time, one he knew he would soon forget, a period of time that would be relatively insignificant to the man in due time. But yet, it was quite the opposite.
Erik had left quite a big mark on Charles, and he didn’t really know why.
Another sigh escaped his lips as his hands left the warmth under the blanket to reach for his immobile legs, massaging his calves gently before ducking back under the covers, his body slowly relaxing as he shut his eyes for the fourth time that night.
He would have taken more sleeping pills, he would, but they did not seem to work, and he knew better than to take more than prescribed. He opened his blue eyes, staring at the clock on his bedside table, the numbers “4:07” taunting the man. Shutting them once more, he stretched his arms out across the bed, listening to the low rumble in the distance.
Sometimes, on nights like these, Charles wanted to call out to Erik, and sometimes, just sometimes, he thinks that he hears Erik call back, but it was silly of him, he knows. Erik has his own life and his own opinions as he has his own. It was silly of him want the man back, he knows.
Feeling himself slowly but surely drift off to slumber, Charles wonders if Erik was the reason for his insomnia, but it was silly of him. He knows. And so he slipped into unconsciousness, sounds of the small drizzle outside against his window aiding him, Erik’s scent lingering in his room.
--
Just wanted to do a X-men: First Class one. ;~; I love Erik and Charles sob.
Rating: G
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Genre: Romance/Angst
Word Count: 410
Summary: Post-Shaw; Wherein Charles can't sleep, so he thinks.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here.
--
He twists and turns in bed, the expensive sheets below rustling as the wind howls outside, a branch tapping rhythmically against his window. It’s in quiet nights like these that thoughts and voices are the loudest, and for Charles, it would usually be the nights when he would sleep almost immediately, and oh so soundly.
But that night, as with the night before, and the night before and the many nights before, he wasn’t able to. Sighing, he sat up, arms supporting his weight as he stared down at his legs. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to being crippled, but he supposed that he would soon enough. It had been, after all, quite a while since he had lost them.
Since he had lost Erik.
Charles wondered when the man had become so important to him. Erik had only entered his life for a short period of time, one he knew he would soon forget, a period of time that would be relatively insignificant to the man in due time. But yet, it was quite the opposite.
Erik had left quite a big mark on Charles, and he didn’t really know why.
Another sigh escaped his lips as his hands left the warmth under the blanket to reach for his immobile legs, massaging his calves gently before ducking back under the covers, his body slowly relaxing as he shut his eyes for the fourth time that night.
He would have taken more sleeping pills, he would, but they did not seem to work, and he knew better than to take more than prescribed. He opened his blue eyes, staring at the clock on his bedside table, the numbers “4:07” taunting the man. Shutting them once more, he stretched his arms out across the bed, listening to the low rumble in the distance.
Sometimes, on nights like these, Charles wanted to call out to Erik, and sometimes, just sometimes, he thinks that he hears Erik call back, but it was silly of him, he knows. Erik has his own life and his own opinions as he has his own. It was silly of him want the man back, he knows.
Feeling himself slowly but surely drift off to slumber, Charles wonders if Erik was the reason for his insomnia, but it was silly of him. He knows. And so he slipped into unconsciousness, sounds of the small drizzle outside against his window aiding him, Erik’s scent lingering in his room.
--
Just wanted to do a X-men: First Class one. ;~; I love Erik and Charles sob.