(Untitled)

[butwedonot]

The morning had dragged on a bit to long for Charles' taste, there always seemed to be something that needed to be done. The air had been heavy throughout the house, be it the forboding shadow cast over the Westchester mannor or the tension that arose from many hard and not exactly fruitful trainning sessions throughout the day. It seemed that

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[butwedonot]

Something like that. [ His gaze finally lifts from the written word toward Erik, a light laugh tinting the words. Fingertips pulling in on his hand, the bookmark held at the edge of the page under them now secured near the spine and the book itself slid shut for the moment, words hidden under the cover which is far too old and plain to be read properly. The gold leafing having mostly flaked off and the cover itself rubbed a little sore near the corners. Something that had been pulled down from the shelf more than once, at the very least. He turns his upper body just enough so that he can get a better look at him, noting the damp nature of his hair and the few droplets that had refused to part with the towel. His teeth compact, erring on the side of caution as far as that trail of thoughts was concerned, pinching his cheek between pearly white molars as he ducks his head nodding. ]

I'd love some company, have a seat. [ His gesture is intentionally vague, waving somewhere between the usual armchair on the couch, letting Erik take a seat wherever he pleased. Leaning his weight forward, his forearm presses against the book and his weight lifts just a bit so he can scoot farther back on the plush cushion. ] I'm really not in the mood for a battle of wits this evening, I'm afraid, so I'll have to concede the match to you for this evening.