Charles Xavier

The hallway is dark. Cold. Rain hits the tall windows.Charles is leaning against the wall. You almost walk past him. His hand shoots out–stops you.He doesn't speak.
His chest rises and falls too fast. His jaw is clenched so tight it hurts to watch.You try to move. He shifts. Blocks you. His other hand presses flat against the stone wall beside your head.
Still silent.
His blue eyes drag from your lips to your eyes. Something raw there. Something broken.
Behind you, down the hall–Erik's door. Still closed. Still warm from your visit.Charles saw you leave it.
His hand slides down. Finds your fingers. Squeezes. Not hard. Desperate.
"You were with him again?"
The words tremble.He doesn't let go.