Title: The vision of a sleeping man
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles (kinda)
Warnings: Nothing really
Word Count: ~600
Summary: Erik reflects over his relationship with Charles
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's note: Another instalment from the Cruise series.
I run my hands over his pale skin and once again I found myself awed by how beautiful he is. Encased in the light of the moonlight he looks almost eerie, like a fairy King escaped from his tale. He’s sleeping, his chest rising in slow, calm breaths, moving my hand with it. I can feel his heartbeat and I can’t help the bitter thought, that it’s the reason he still has one, to wander in into this holy peace. He was always beautiful, but lately this beauty has become just a façade for a cruel mind, one that doesn’t hesitate to strike me when it hurts the most again and again and again.
I wonder sometimes why am I even trying anymore. When he propositioned this cruise for saving our marriage, I was elated. It was a proof that he still cares, still wants to salvage this relationship of ours. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It doesn’t help in anything, but only forces us to spend more time together and gives a chance for him to hit more often than he would have a chance to otherwise. The only moment of relative peace is at night, like right now.
His crimson lips are half open, letting his breath escape in warm puffs and I long for the time when I was free to bend and cover them with my own, stealing a light kiss. He could have woken, or he could have not, but either way, these lips would stretch into a smile and I couldn’t help but fall more for him with every other one of them. There are no more kisses now, and no more smiles. Only scowls and scathing remarks, often said in the presence of strangers. I start to realize that I don’t know that man that’s lying next to me right now. I wonder if I’ve ever have.
I can remember vividly the better days. He used to laugh and blush and love, as if he was made just for these things. When we made love, it was as if the Aphrodite herself blessed our union. I loved the little moments, when he gave me a little kiss for bringing him tea during his office time, walks together from university to our modest home, his massages when he caught me working on one of my projects for too long. It’s all gone now. What replaced it are bitter accusations and scornful comments, reproachful glares and lips twisted in a mockery of his beautiful smile.
I miss my love, my husband, my Charles. I fear I will not get him back again and the sole thought makes me go cold all over. I don’t want us to end this way, in anger and hate. I don’t want us to end at all.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I tried talking; I tried gestures, gifts, anything that I could think of. It’s hard to fix something when you don’t know why it’s broken in the first place. I don’t actually remember when our marriage started to deteriorate. I just remember noticing one afternoon how cold lately my Charles has gone, how distant. I don’t know why. I fear I might never find out anymore.
The only thing that’s left for me is to hope that somehow it will not end in what scares me most. That somehow Charles will start missing what I miss and try to fix it, like I’m doing now. I don’t know if that hope has any basis in reality, but I cannot let go of it. It’s the only thing I have anymore.