[ A part of Erik appreciates the knowledge that Charles can't slip into his mind. He never hated the other man's mutation, for all that he warned him to stay out of his head; it was simply because he knew his mind was a dark, desolate place to be, a broken, tangled mire of thoughts and nightmares that someone as innocent and gentle as Charles had no place wading through. He would be caught on a thorn of something from when Erik was still a child growing under the eyes of scientists and Shaw and never quite recover from the pictures that would be burned against the back of his eyelids (the way Erik still suffered, now).
But he knew that Charles was stronger than that -- it had simply taken him some time to realise it. That was why he was glad that Charles couldn't pick up on his thoughts because Erik imagines that the sheer weight of the love flickering through his mind, the way his internal voice was screaming it, a pulsing beat in the heart of his brain, would be enough to deafen even the most careful and clinical of telepaths. The last thing Erik had ever wanted was to hurt Charles - and he had so often failed at it that he wondered why he tried to avoid it anymore.
Still. Still. He squeezes the fingers against his own and nods his head, leaning back and letting his leg reach out to rub between Charles', enjoying the knowledge that this, at least, the other man would feel, would know and understand. They might not be able to speak too openly now, not with their cute little guard dog listening as if he cared, but he could still give signs, little nods. He could show Charles he meant what he said. ]
I'd like to think that, of anyone in the world, you would be the most capable, my friend.
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But he knew that Charles was stronger than that -- it had simply taken him some time to realise it. That was why he was glad that Charles couldn't pick up on his thoughts because Erik imagines that the sheer weight of the love flickering through his mind, the way his internal voice was screaming it, a pulsing beat in the heart of his brain, would be enough to deafen even the most careful and clinical of telepaths. The last thing Erik had ever wanted was to hurt Charles - and he had so often failed at it that he wondered why he tried to avoid it anymore.
Still. Still. He squeezes the fingers against his own and nods his head, leaning back and letting his leg reach out to rub between Charles', enjoying the knowledge that this, at least, the other man would feel, would know and understand. They might not be able to speak too openly now, not with their cute little guard dog listening as if he cared, but he could still give signs, little nods. He could show Charles he meant what he said. ]
I'd like to think that, of anyone in the world, you would be the most capable, my friend.