While at Oxford, the numbers on his wrist didnât mean he couldnât act flirty with his classmatesââ only if the numbers werenât close to zero, which, fortunately, never were. He stopped paying attention to the numbers when he was at his senior year at Oxford, including his graduation day and the day he met Moira. He found her certainly attractive, though he knew she couldnât be his soulmate, so it didnât go farther than a few pick-up lines and compliments.
But everything was different that day. He could feel it, not by the numbers on his wrist but merely by instinct. That day Charles accompanied the CIA people to help them to find Shaw, until he was blocked by his telepath partner.
With nothing else but stare at the two ships, he tried to reach Shawâs mind again. The telepath was powerful, he had never witnessed something similar before. He could actually feel her inside his head. There was nothing else to do that night, he believed.
But not everything was lost. He could still feel someone in the water. The man was a mutant, someone who could control metal. And he was in great danger. âLet go! You have to let it go!â He screamed, but neither the CIA nor him were listening to him. So he took his cardigan off and jumped into the ocean.
At the moment he held the other man with both arms, he felt it. The unfamiliar but known instinct. Now it wasnât just saving someone elseâs life. He needed to protect him. âYou canât, youâll drown. You have to let it go.' The man projected inside the other mutant's mind. 'I know what this means to you but youâre going to die. Please, Erik. Calm your mind.' Charles still wasn't sure if what he felt was his numbers reaching to zero, meeting his soulmate. Perhaps it was just the cold water. He took a deep breath once reached the surface. Erik was safe at least.
Erik didn't have to look to simply know. He knew the moment they were pulled from the water, he would pull the wetsuit's sleeve up and the numbers would be at zero. Of all times to find his soulmate, of all timesâhe sputtered as he reached the surface, pushing himself free from the other man's grip as he gasped for breath, irritation rising as he stared at this man who has stopped him from pursuing Schmidt, who has spoken...
Who had spoken in his mind, so clear as if it were aloud. But that was impossible underwater.
"Who are you?" He demanded, and while he did truly try his best to be intimidating, the effect was lost as they were treading water. "You were in my head, how did you do that?!" Erik did not take his eyes off the other man, save for the brief glance over his shoulder. He could barely make out the men aboard scurrying about, probably to try and get the both of them out of the water. Just as quickly though, he was looking back at the other man.
He already knew the answer to his question, even before he had asked it. The other man was like him. Like him. It was a startling revelation, to know that he wasn't the only one who could do the impossible. It was enough that the man allowed himself to calm somewhat. "I thought I was alone."
From the time he was small to this moment in Miami, Erik had never before met someone special, someone gifted. It had been the thing Schmidt was after, the secret in Erik's genes that allowed him to move metal and shape it to his will. His eyes stung slightly, and he had to refrain from reaching up to rub at his eyes. Damn salt water.
