237. it gets inside and eats you up

[want_to_jog]

GUILT

guilt /gɪlt/
noun
1. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, especially against moral or penal law; culpability: He admitted his guilt

Comments

[ .11 and a bit of .4-- maybe .8 too ] and [ ♥ ]

[drlehnsherr]

[ The fight had been the worst of their several harsh disagreements at the mansion. The cutting words had been thoughtlessly flung back and forth, all stemming from that initial and fundamental argument-- Erik's absolute vehemence in his mission to destroy Schmidt, and that point that they had not yet discussed-- what came after. Separatism was the only logical means of proceeding-- humanity would hunt them, number them and try to pick them apart; mutants laid out over white tables, held by clamps and bindings-- their skins opened, adaptations dissected. And Shaw, looming over them. But not Shaw-- this time it would be human scientists, in search of that genetic strand, somewhere twined in the spider-web of double helixes; the bright, evolutionary arrangement of phosphates. He had left the house, hating that cloying sense of Charles that pervaded every crevice-- the cold pull of the wiring between the walls and the piping only had him feeling hemmed in, and caged behind its constancy. The other man had been hurt; wounded by the

[ ♥♥♥ /slow ]

[butwedonot]

[ It isn't that Charles can't hold his own in a fight; he could, he was nearly an expert at it, having to argue his beliefs-- or even having to argue with Raven when he had hit his teen years and the two thought bickering was the solution to everything. However, the arguments had never been on quite this personal of a level-- even with his Sister she had never dared to strike him so deeply, but she wasn't made of anger; not like Erik cared to be sometimes. Charles knew there was more to him-- more to humanity than that-- but the man refused it so often it made him ill. He did not want to be helped, not like that, he did not want to change his beliefs and Charles thought him as foolish as he was sure he thought Charles. He didn't like the fights, but he wasn't able to back down, not even when it had gone beyond the comfortable because if he could not be steadfast in his beliefs where Erik was concerned how would he do it with anyone else

♥♥♥

[drlehnsherr]

[ He enters wordlessly, closing the door in his wake with a muted click. Several paces and he’s crossing the room, a glance spared for the familiar form seated in the bed, every angle of the telepath seen as tender now with un-angered eyes. Sitting on the other’s side of the bed, on the small space between Charles and the edge of the mattress, he’s faster than he’s been to close the physical gap where he can; one divide quite enough for his tastes. ]

Charles-- [ He murmurs, downcast and guilty-- not atoning; never quite humble enough to be truly sorry, but he’s regretful of the harsh bitterness he’s evoked between them, their usually unhindered closeness seems tainted now, battered. Despite the warm room and the glow emitting from the fireplace grate, he’s still cold; soaked nearly to the skin, his hair lying wetly across his forehead. A hand extends to still the movement of the pen, closing around the telepath’s fingers with a chill press. The bed has dipped where he’d sat down, and he can feel Charles’ thigh, warming the back of

[butwedonot]

I can see that, [ Blue eyes lift from his captured hand, the heat drawn from it and into Erik's own cold grip. He traces over the finer details of his composure; the water slicked hair and dabbed clothing, the chill, the coat, even the way it's brought a bit of color to his skin as his body fights off the chill. He hates to think he had any part in causing such a desperation, but in that small arrogant way he can't help but believe Erik's brought it on himself-- just as he has done the same. He reaches over with his free hand, laying it over the one that's ensnared his pen and gives a soft squeeze. ]

Why don't you take a hot shower and change, get comfortable and we can talk about whatever's on your mind afterward. [ He saw no need to rush into it, it gave him a moment to prepare and to avoid the chilled man from getting their bed too wet. It was important, but they had time-- at least, this evening seemed to be promised to them and he would take it slowly as he did every other they were allowed. ]

[drlehnsherr]

[ Charles has a way with him that he's never been subject to with any other living creature; mutant or human-- the man can move him with nothing more than a touch and a look; the quiet patience that he always receives even after an argument as embittered as the one of several hours ago. He's already feeling penitential, the gnawing anger of earlier at the other man's sheer ability to be so damn naive having melted away, and he's glad for Charles' sense of hope-- it offsets something dour in him, lightens it. But he's afraid, terrified of losing the telepath in the same way that he's gradually been separated from everything he'd held in any esteem over the years since he'd left the camps. Leaning forward, and returning the press to the other's hand, he lands a quick kiss to Charles' temple-- disentangling his hand and pulling away. ] I'll be a minute.

[ He stands and crosses to the adjoining bathroom, shucking off his heavily dampened coat, draping it over the back of the desk chair and glancing back at Charles-- gaze still cautious.

[butwedonot]

Take your time, [ He murmurs with that gentle nature creeping into his tone-- he had been upset, even angry in his own right-- but one could not remain angry forever. Charles understood, in many ways, why Erik felt the way he did-- but it was simply not something he could agree with. For all his care for the man their ideologies would probably nary cross if things kept up the way they were. Still, it wasn't as if this was the first fight they had, and Charles was able to be mature about the entire thing-- the look that crossed Erik's face telling him more than the anxiously clipped words