Prompt Post: ROUND SEVEN
ROUND SEVEN IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND SIX | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND EIGHT >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There is a delay on comments appearing when there is a URL in the message body. This is due to an LJ anti-spam ( Read more... )
Charles reached forward and unscrewed the cap on the bottle, tapping out a couple of little white pills into his hand. Erik reached across the table for the paper bag holding their dinner, fishing out the twin packages inside. He slid one over to Charles and began unwrapping his own, eager for the sandwich inside but careful to make as little noise as possible. He could feel Charles’s pain surge with every crinkle of the paper in his hands but schooled his features into stone. Charles didn’t need to know that he was projecting.
“I got you the turkey. You weren’t very clear about what you wanted when I left.” Talking might help keep the man out of his head. If his control was bad enough for him to be projecting, there was no way for Erik to know that Charles wasn’t inadvertently rifling through his thoughts.
“That’s fine,” Charles replied, reaching forward for his sandwich. “I’ve never been terribly picky.”
“Mmm,” Erik grumbled around the mouthful of food in his cheek. The deli hadn’t exactly been the most respectable establishment, but he had to admit that they could make a pretty damn good sandwich. Now, if only he could manage to get rid of this heat. He eyed the fan in the corner before turning his attention back to Charles. He swallowed and lowered the food in his hands. Charles was gingerly picking at his sandwich. He hadn’t even taken a bite. “Not hungry?”
He startled and looked up, wincing as he did. Moved too fast. “What?”
Erik nodded toward the sandwich resting on the table. “Not hungry? You’ve barely touched that.”
Charles sighed and pulled off a little bit of bread from the corner. “Not particularly, but you went through the trouble of getting this for us, and it won’t last long in this heat.”
Erik nodded and cast another glance at the fan. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, the medication has made this more manageable.”
Erik tilted his head toward the fan. “Then do you mind if I turn that on? You seem rather sensitive to sound at the moment, and I’d rather not experience your headache tonight while I sleep.”
Charles lowered his head into his hand again, rubbing his fingers along the temple. “Yes, I think I’ll be fine. The heat will probably aggravate things more than the noise anyway.”
Erik nodded once more and flicked his fingers toward the fan. The little metal switch at its base rose, and the machine’s buzzing filled the air. His eyes never left Charles, who was still picking at his sandwich like a moody child. He let out a heavy sigh. “You need to eat something, Charles. You’re no good to me if you can’t function. I can’t pick out this mutant on my own.”
Charles didn’t answer. He simply popped the bit of bread in his fingers into his mouth and slowly began to chew. Erik turned back to his own sandwich, trying desperately to ignore the subtle waves of pain and discomfort that were still leaking over from Charles to him, instead focusing on the beads of sweat that were resting uncomfortably in the curve of the small of his back and the feel of the bread and meat in his mouth.
It was going to be a long night.
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