Erik has never seen Charles happier.
Charles seems to shine, brighter and more beautifully than he did even before Erik. He looks so happy all the time, always smiling, always glowing.
Erik, in contrast, has never felt more horrible.
He’s jealous. Hideously, horribly, horrendously jealous. Just the littlest things make him tense and miserable; the way Charles sips his drink, the way he turns his head, the way he smiles. The way he looks when he’s forgotten his umbrella, rivulets of water running down his face and neck like they used to after a shower with Erik. The way he casually mentions nights out with friends and lovers like he used to after going out with Erik. The way---
Erik bites his tongue and fades into the background when Charles enters the room, averting his eyes, trying not to track him with his senses. He knows that chair intimately, he’s fixed it often enough; he doesn’t need to map it one more time with his sense of its magnetic fields.
He does anyway. He has to. And... it’s... coming closer?
“You do know you can’t avoid me forever, right?”
Erik looks up, surprised. Charles is glaring at him, like he usually does. Did. Like he usually did. Erik swallows tears and answers woodenly, “I wasn’t aware I was avoiding you.”
Charles snorts. “Pull the other one. You’ve been avoiding me since the split. Why?”
Erik kept his urge to say ‘I’ve been following your every movement, just not where you can see’ to himself. That would just be creepy. And untrue. So he wracks his brain for a different, more suitable answer, keeping a sullen look on his face so he doesn’t cry.
“I could just read your mind.”
Charles’ glare evaporates, replaced by surprise. Then discomfort. “But I could,” he repeats, a little petulantly.
Everyone around them is carefully not looking, though Erik can tell they’re listening as hard as they can. He does not glare at them. Instead he drops his eyes to the floor.
“Erik. Why have you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t,” he mumbles, misery and anger twisting and fighting in his chest. “You just haven’t been looking.”
Charles takes a breath to answer--then lets it out again. Then, very quietly, he asks, “Would you like to try again?”
Erik nods, because he doesn’t trust himself to speak.
“Okay.” Charles takes his hand and gives a little squeeze. “Okay.”
