The minute he enters your room, Charles notices a definite change in the atmosphere. He can’t tell if it’s good or bad. “(y/n)?”
“In here,” your voice calls from the bathroom. Charles follows your voice to see you standing at the counter, brushing your hair. He smiles at you fondly and leans in the doorway.
That’s when he notices it. Notices what’s different.
You aren’t blocking him from your mind today. After a year of knowing each other, (y/n) finally trusts him enough to let him in.
“I can feel you in my mind, Charles,” you say softly but not accusingly, turning to face the man.
His face reddens slightly. “Sorry. I won’t if-”
“No,” you cut him off. “It’s okay. I want you to look. Well I don’t exactly want you to, but…you can.” You step forward and take his hand in yours. “I trust you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches up in a smile, and he brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Are you sure?” At your nod, he moves his hand up instead so his fingers are on your temple. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, and you close yours too.
He sees your childhood: You running from bullies in the school yard, and then a teenage you running away from an abusive foster home. He sees you being beat on the streets of Chicago, begging for food on the street sides and giving blankets to other homeless that you found.
You, alone, cold, and scared, trying to learn to harness your telekinesis in the dead of winter.
But then it’s like all of the negativity washes away.
The hues from the scenes shift from dark to light when Charles finds you on the street, comforting you and talking to you in a way that immediately makes you trust him. Flash through your rehabilitation to full health at the academy, scenes of you and Charles working and walking through the grounds together. So many scenes of you and him together.
When he opens his eyes, it’s to see your beautiful (e/c) ones staring back into his. “(y/n)-”
You cut him off by tilting your head up and pressing your lips to his. He freezes in shock, and after a second or two of him not kissing back, you pull away abruptly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”
Now it’s his turn to cut you off by taking your hand and pulling you back into him, kissing you passionately. You sink into his warm embrace as he strokes your hair, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He pulls away first for air, and you open your eyes to see him smiling at you.
“I’m glad you let me in today.”