Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Charles/Erik, Ororo
Challenge/Prompt: beattheblackdog 135: Angst
Word Count: 357
Date Written: 16 November 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
Ororo gazed at Charles and shook her head as he closed his book with tears in his compassionate, blue eyes. “I do not know why you insist on reading such angst, Charles,” she commented, a note of disapproval edging her lovely, African accent, “especially when you know how they are going to end and how much they are going to upset you.”
Charles caressed the worn spine of the book. “It’s still a journey worth taking, Ororo,” he answered, gliding from the room. If the air was a little colder, he pretended not to notice. It wouldn’t do to tell even her the truth however any more than it would to allow himself to wallow in the sorrow of his own reality. It was easier by far to read of other people’s sadness and to pretend that such love stories never happened in real life.
Yet, as he passed a window, he found himself pausing, his searching gaze going out it to the night sky beyond. Gazing at the vast expanse of blackness punctuated by shining stars, he had to wonder where Erik was on that same night and rather he was looking at the same part of the sky. Of course it was the same sky that stretched over them, the same earth that passed beneath their feet, the same special genes that throbbed inside of their bodies and dictated so much of their lives.
But it was their own decisions that truly dictated their lives, their own actions and judgements that made them play out the way they had. Erik could be here with him now, Charles thought, but they would never see eye to eye even enough to agree, let alone to live together again. They would never be able to give up their own dreams or schemes, as it were. They were as star crossed as the lovers in the tale he’d just finished, and their ending would be no happier. Charles sighed and moved on; yes, indeed, far too often it was easier to read about sorrow than to allow oneself to feel the truth of their lives and their own sadness.