Work Text:
Westchester is a graveyard for Charles.
There is so much Erik in dark corners, armed with a smile he’d only receive now from the other end of a gun, and the memory of his smell has never really left the sheets.
Tipping over the black king on the board, Charles’ mind drifts. He wants to know if Erik thinks he could ever run far enough from Charles that he would be out of his reach, when even across the continents, their minds curl together at night.
He wants to know why Erik runs, and whether he still runs from him.

southernmedicine Tue 28 Feb 2023 05:18AM UTC
Comment Actions
isxbella Tue 28 Feb 2023 08:14AM UTC
Comment Actions