Charles had been distant and distracted throughout the shopping trip, waking up into his usual charming, laughing self at intervals only to fall back into his funk moments later. Raven didn't know whether to be more angry or frightened. Something big was going on. Something he thought was too dangerous to tell her about.
But he can tell Erik about it, Erik who treated him like dirt and made fun of him to his pureblood friends, that's who Charles thinks he can trust. She watched Charles staring out the window as the coach rumbled up the drive toward Hogwarts. "Aren't you angry?" she burst out. "How can you not be angry at him?"
"What?"
"You play chess, you have dinner, you hang out, you keep secrets! It's like you've totally forgotten what he did to you! Charles, how can you forgive him so easily?"
"Who says I have?"
"Your actions say you have. If you two aren't bosom buddies, you're sure doing a great impression of it. Please tell me you're not sleeping with him again."
Charles's mouth dropped open. "Raven, that is really none of your business at all!"
"Oh, good, you're not. That's something anyway. But I don't understand how you can even talk to him!"
"Raven..." Charles rubbed his forehead, as if staving off a headache. "He was just a kid then, Raven."
"Oh, really? He's changed, then? He's different now?"
"Not as much as I'd like," Charles admitted.
Raven drew breath to continue, but the coach was stopping. She let the breath out as a growl of frustration, gathering up their shopping bags. Charles took the heavier ones and followed her in silence, through hallways and up staircases to her room.
She dropped her bags haphazardly on the floor and went to stoke the fire, still fuming. Behind her, she could hear Charles setting down his bags, arranging them all neatly in a corner, crossing the room to the cabinet where she kept a tumbled assortment of tea bags, coffee beans and cocoa tins. Then the movement-noises stopped, and after a moment she turned to see him standing with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, forehead pressed to the cabinet as if he could barely hold himself up.
"You're right, of course," he said, voice strained. "But you've never -- I don't mean to throw this in your face, Raven, but you've never been in love, not yet. You don't know what it's like, to be willing to give anything to be with someone, even if it's undignified, even if it's wrong..."
Raven swallowed, looked away. "You do still love him, then." Not that she hadn't known. Anyone could see it, could see the way his eyes sparkled all the time now, when Erik was around, even when he was angry -- like they had in school, like she had thought they never, ever would again. She thought Erik had killed that.
"Of course I do. I told you ten years ago that I always would."
Yes, but I hoped you were wrong. I hoped you would find someone else, someone better.
There was a long silence before Charles spoke again.
"I think what bothers me more than anything," he said distantly, "more than... things that should bother me more, is that he never wrote to apologize. Never. He's so angry at me for breaking off contact -- why did he never write? If he loved me so bloody much, why did he never even try to get me back?" His voice broke.
Raven bit her lip. "You said, at the time, that if he wrote you'd just burn it, you wouldn't even read it."
Charles tilted his head up and laughed, joylessly, water winking at the edge of one eye. "I said that, yes. And I waited and waited, didn't I, for a letter to burn. And it never came."
Raven's throat felt too tight to swallow, too tight to breathe. This was her brother, her kind, patient, beautiful brother, in tears, and she wanted to hate Erik for making him cry -- but it wasn't Erik's fault, this time, was it.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: The Better Men (18a/30ish)
Date: 2012-01-14 06:11 am (UTC)But he can tell Erik about it, Erik who treated him like dirt and made fun of him to his pureblood friends, that's who Charles thinks he can trust. She watched Charles staring out the window as the coach rumbled up the drive toward Hogwarts. "Aren't you angry?" she burst out. "How can you not be angry at him?"
"What?"
"You play chess, you have dinner, you hang out, you keep secrets! It's like you've totally forgotten what he did to you! Charles, how can you forgive him so easily?"
"Who says I have?"
"Your actions say you have. If you two aren't bosom buddies, you're sure doing a great impression of it. Please tell me you're not sleeping with him again."
Charles's mouth dropped open. "Raven, that is really none of your business at all!"
"Oh, good, you're not. That's something anyway. But I don't understand how you can even talk to him!"
"Raven..." Charles rubbed his forehead, as if staving off a headache. "He was just a kid then, Raven."
"Oh, really? He's changed, then? He's different now?"
"Not as much as I'd like," Charles admitted.
Raven drew breath to continue, but the coach was stopping. She let the breath out as a growl of frustration, gathering up their shopping bags. Charles took the heavier ones and followed her in silence, through hallways and up staircases to her room.
She dropped her bags haphazardly on the floor and went to stoke the fire, still fuming. Behind her, she could hear Charles setting down his bags, arranging them all neatly in a corner, crossing the room to the cabinet where she kept a tumbled assortment of tea bags, coffee beans and cocoa tins. Then the movement-noises stopped, and after a moment she turned to see him standing with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, forehead pressed to the cabinet as if he could barely hold himself up.
"You're right, of course," he said, voice strained. "But you've never -- I don't mean to throw this in your face, Raven, but you've never been in love, not yet. You don't know what it's like, to be willing to give anything to be with someone, even if it's undignified, even if it's wrong..."
Raven swallowed, looked away. "You do still love him, then." Not that she hadn't known. Anyone could see it, could see the way his eyes sparkled all the time now, when Erik was around, even when he was angry -- like they had in school, like she had thought they never, ever would again. She thought Erik had killed that.
"Of course I do. I told you ten years ago that I always would."
Yes, but I hoped you were wrong. I hoped you would find someone else, someone better.
There was a long silence before Charles spoke again.
"I think what bothers me more than anything," he said distantly, "more than... things that should bother me more, is that he never wrote to apologize. Never. He's so angry at me for breaking off contact -- why did he never write? If he loved me so bloody much, why did he never even try to get me back?" His voice broke.
Raven bit her lip. "You said, at the time, that if he wrote you'd just burn it, you wouldn't even read it."
Charles tilted his head up and laughed, joylessly, water winking at the edge of one eye. "I said that, yes. And I waited and waited, didn't I, for a letter to burn. And it never came."
Raven's throat felt too tight to swallow, too tight to breathe. This was her brother, her kind, patient, beautiful brother, in tears, and she wanted to hate Erik for making him cry -- but it wasn't Erik's fault, this time, was it.