A/N: Unoriginal title, I know... **le sigh** Anyhoo, hope you like the, I will be updating my other story in a few days, cause I was so into writing this one I forgot about the other. My bad. Sorry. Um... no not mine, I don't really own much... **le sigh again**

Coffee Shop:
Charles has potential. Charles is smart. And Charles is living.

i.
Charles' mother questions him. "You have so much money, so much intelligence, why do you want to invest in such an inane thing as a coffee shop?" She's sitting in the living room, in her pretty little red dress.

Charles begins walking away from his mother, towards the oak doors, towards freedom. "One more step Charles Francis Xavier and I'll take it all away from you." She's standing up now, hands on her hips.

Charles sighs, his hands hovering above the golden doorknob. "Mom… I…"

"If word gets out that my son owns a coffee shop, I will not be damned when I disown you, Charles." Charles turns around. He's tired and feels like surrendering, but Charles has his own mind and morals that he will not dismiss.

"Will you not let me do something I love?" He stares straight into his mother's eyes, defiance is written on his face, but torment is etched in his heart.

"I do," her eyes flicker with anger. "I gave you piano lessons, I gave you lessons of eloquence, I gave you an education."

"Mom…" It's all he could say. The connotation of that word is all he has left for him to stay. He has to remember the definition of that word. "Mom…" He says it again, to force himself to remember, to feel.

"I will, Charles. If you leave tonight and make that contract, everything will be given to Cain. I'll make it happen, Charles. I will."

Charles is hurting, he feels at loss from reality. He feels numb, feels like he can just walk out that door with no thoughts of looking back. "Do I remind you of father too much? Is this why you're so hostile to me?"

"Charles Francis Xavier! I have never been so appalled of you until this very moment." She's pointing at Charles, a disapproving look on her face. Her red lipstick makes her snarl so much more visible.

"I'm sorry, mother," and Charles is turning away from her, his hand, once again, hovering atop the doorknob. "I'll pick my things up tomorrow evening."

He's turning the doorknob, he's turning another page, and he's onto a new chapter… finally. "Goodbye… Sharon."

ii.
He doesn't look back when he's out the door. He doesn't remember opening it either. He's walking away, with quick steps, he's not regretting it, but he's not satisfied with his decision either.

Charles' steps become strides and soon, Charles begins to run. He's running in the midst of the night, the gravel under his feet makes a crunching sound. He's looking into the distance, it's dark and ambiguous but Charles can see something; something brilliant and worthy.

Tears start to fall down his face, and soon, Charles begins to hiccup; he's gulping down the fresh air of Westchester. Charles' hands are cold, and his face is cold too but he feels so hot in his chest and legs.

He keeps running. He isn't running from anything generally, just running to distance himself further away from a painful past. Or maybe he just simply doesn't want to be able to turn back.

He's far enough from the mansion, and the 'something' he saw from the far distance turns out to just be a bench that Charles has never seen in his 19 years of life at the Westchester Mansion.

Charles starts to dither, he has doubts in his mind but he can't turn back now. He slows into a walk; he's far away from his past now, heading into town. Charles figures he'll just take a plane to London and go to Oxford earlier than he should. He'll stay on campus, thanking God he had already paid for his tuition. With the money inside his bank account (which is a rather large sum), he'll invest into the coffee shop he had an eye on near Oxford. He'll show Sharon.

Charles begins wiping his tears away.

This time, torment is written on his face but defiance is etched in his heart.

iii.
5 Years Later
"Raven! You're late!" Charles is yelling from his spot behind the counter. He's holding a frosting bag and it's quite cliché but he has dough plastered on his right cheek.

Raven can't help but giggle, "Sorry, Charles." She starts to make her way to the counter, weaving her way through the populated coffee shop.

Raven quickly puts on her apron.

"We're so busy," says Charles, looking away from his cake. Raven notes that Charles' eyes are exceptionally blue today, blue and tired. "Can you please give that to table 5?"

"Sir, yes, Sir." Raven is off and Charles feels a large amount of weight lift off his shoulders. He smiles.

"Hank, make sure Raven doesn't do anything stupid whilst I'm in the back. My last cake batch is almost finished so I can help you out here. Ok?"

Hank nods and smiles, "No problemo, boss."

iv.
It's 3 o'clock when everything starts to settle and Charles is falling asleep in the back.

Raven is walking back towards Hank with a tray of empty coffee cups and cake plates that are warm and comforting.

"Hank," Raven begins, "could you help me with my thesis on the distinguished effects of to humans and rats?"

Hank turns around from the coffee machine, cocks an eyebrow and turns back, pouring the content of milk into the warming cup. "Sure," he adds, "Could you give this to table 1?"

"Sure," Raven says, a little bit too sharp and harsh. She just wants to spend more time with him.

The coffee shop door opens with a familiar ding!

"Hello," Hank pushes his glasses further up his nose, "What would you like today?" He lifts his head up to look at the customer.

Hank doesn't feel right about this customer; he's a little intimidating with his tall, muscular physique and his arms are crossed over his chest as he looks at the menu and his face is void of emotions.

"Just a large long black to have here," the customer says.

Hank sweats just a little when he asks the customer for $3.75 cents. His hands start to shake as he collects the money. Hank tentatively looks up and sees Erik staring at him, his aura demeaning. "Just... Just take a seat and we'll bring it right over."

The customer leaves without another word, just a short nod of the head and sits quietly at the only available table near the back entrance.

Hank is making the coffee when Raven sneaks up on him.

"Who's that hunk over there, never seen him before. He's really good looking, and about my age too." Raven squeals.

"You… think so?"

"Oh yes, give me that coffee. I wanna bring it out to him."

And what little could poor Hank do but give the coffee to Raven. Hank sighs as he puts on a fake smile for his next customer, who will sadly have nowhere to sit.

"Here you go, one large long black." Raven puts the coffee cup down. "I've never seen you around. Are you on vacation here?"

"No."

The answer was short but the message was clear enough; the customer did not want small talk, but Raven wasn't Raven if she wasn't insistent.

"Really? So why are you here?"

"Raven," Charles is walking towards her, his eyes a darker shade of blue from how she remembers. He's giving her 'the face'. The face that says she's mingling for too long and ought to get back to work.

She quickly walks away, her head down and a blush flushing on her cheeks. "Darn you…" She mumbles.

"Sorry about that," Charles stops next to the customer's table. "It'll never happen again."

v.
It's three long and hard days later when Charles is able to get back into the coffee shop. It's difficult balancing school and work, Charles barely pulls through. He's only had four hours of uneasy sleep and around twenty cups of strong coffee.

"Charles!" Hank's behind the counter, looking up at the clock. "You're early."

"Yes… well, let's just say, that I am outstandingly late." Charles surveys his surroundings, it's late and there are only a few customers. "Sorry about that, Hank."

"Did you finish whatever you had to get completed?" Hank starts to walk away from the counter, it's nearing 9 o'clock, and closing time is in another half hour. Hank's getting a broom from the closet.

"Yes, thank God." Charles starts to turn around, "Where is Raven?"

"She… she's over there," Hank starts to point to where Raven sat with a customer Charles has met before, "with that Erik Lensherr guy." Charles doesn't miss the way Hank drags Erik's last name; Sherrrrr.

Charles watches Raven as she tries oh so hard to keep the conversation going, at least she's getting a few words from him. He doesn't want to interrupt Raven because the feeling of guilt is slithering its ugly way in.
Charles feels bad, for Hank, for Raven and for his other employees that work overtime for him. He knows they think he is exculpable, but Charles is Charles, and Charles feels guilty.

He's working hard, and now that the first semester is over, Charles can make up for the lack of appearance at his own shop.

It's been a tough half year, school requires more time and effort, and so does his shop. He's thinking, when school is finally over (this is his last year), that he will take the position offered to him as an Oxford professor, whilst still running the coffee shop alone, it's quite possible.

He'll send Hank and Raven off on vacation in Fiji to find their unknown love for each other and he'll work his ass off trying to make money.

Does he regret leaving the Westchester Mansion? Sometimes, when all is tough and doesn't seem to be advancing anywhere. It's like swimming against a strong current, cold, tiring and difficult. Charles of course pulls through, with Raven and Hank by his side. He's the type of person who picks themselves up and tries again, to swim against the strong current, but that is after he locks himself in his bedroom, biting on his arm to stop himself from crying out too loud so his Oxford roommates can't hear him.

Three customers later and Charles is staring at Raven with an amused face.
"Don't say a word," Raven warns him, she's pouting.

Charles chuckles. "Wasn't going to say anything, actually."

"Yeah, yeah," Raven is flicking her wrist, "Hank, let's get going now. You still have to help me on my thesis."

"Coming," came a voice from the back, most probably Hank's.

"Bye, Raven." Charles waves.

"Bye Charles, I'll see you tomorrow."

Before Hank could get a proper goodbye, Raven has already pulled him out the door, Charles barely gets his goodbye through to Hank.

vi.
It's past closing time and Charles makes himself another cup of vanilla latte with his dissertations spread out on a table. There's that customer that Raven fancies still sitting in the corner, and Charles doesn't have the heart to tell him to leave, Charles was going to stay back later anyway.

It's 11 o'clock when Charles gets startled by a sudden voice, "Shouldn't you be telling me to leave?"

"What time is it?" Charles stifles a yawn.

"11:04." The man takes a sip of his cold coffee.

"So late, you could've just left yourself. Sorry." Charles takes a second to look up at the man and then down again, packing away his papers, which are empty of life.

"Yes, well, somebody has to keep you company. You look like you're going to drop dead any second."

Charles looks up at the man, seeing him for the first time. His vision starts to become really clear.

"The coffee keeps me alive." Charles stands up from his chair and places his cup in the sink. He then walks out the counter and picks up his papers.

The man starts to nod, "I was joking when I said that somebody should keep you company. I kind of lost track of time whilst sitting in this coffee shop."

"That's the beauty of it, isn't it?" Charles is surprised that this Erik guy Raven has been trying to get more than a few words from is actually talking to him.

"I guess so," Erik walks towards the door. "Thank you," he says. Erik walks across the street before turning back. He sees the lights of the coffee shop turn off and gets into a car that is already occupied.

As always, reviews are loved. This is inspired by a prompt at 1stclass_kink.