Charles collapses to the floor, his chuckles dying away. "Well, you had a nice show," he comments to a door opened just a crack a little further down.

Erik opens it fully and leans in the doorframe. "I could hardly help that. Whether it was entertaining or not, is another matter," he remarks dryly.

"I can't face you." Charles turns away.

"Really. Am I that intimidating?"

"No, literally." Charles squints at Erik's backlit shadowed form. "Could you turn the lights down, please?"

"That depends. Are you planning on coming in?"

Charles arches a brow and wobbles to his feet. "Only if that's an indecent proposal."

Erik shrugs lightly and steps back. "Consider it indecent, then." As Charles accepts the invitation and toddles into the room, Erik obligingly turns the lowers the lights to an ambient glow.

Charles slouches into a stuffed armchair and stretches as he looks around. "I must say, I'm charmed by what you've done with the place." Aside from the suitcase tucked into the closet, nothing has changed since the room was empty of occupants.

"I believe in mobility," Erik says honestly to Charles. "I never know when I'll have to leave."

The other man nods, understanding softening his sensitive features, but he quips, "Is that what you tell all the girls?"

"It's what I told Raven," Erik informs him, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "In the improbable case you didn't know."

Charles sighs in exasperation. "Why does everyone assume I pry into their business? I'm not a busybody. " He pauses and then adds slyly, "And you told her quite a lot of things you've neglected to mention."

"I told her what she should hear from everyone—her mutation is a beautiful, essential part of her. That about covers everything that happened."

"You kissed," Charles points out.

"Some kissing may also have occurred," Erik acknowledges. "To prove my sincerity."

Charles ponders this. "I wish I could prove my sincerity by kissing girls. For some reason, to them that usually shows that I just want a quick tumble."

"Are you treating my thoughts like files in a folder and simply flipping through them?" Erik demands without rancor.

"Well, you really do label and organize your thoughts so very neatly," Charles apologizes. "Raven's mind is rather careless and disorderly."

"I thought—"

"—I know you did—"

"—I'm going to ignore you for a minute, and go on to say that you "promised never to read her mind," Erik accuses, casually.

Charles nods again. "True. For some time now I've sensed, not read, that something is severely disturbing her, and in fact I must make a conscious effort not to overhear thoughts broadcast on national radio." He looks pensive and a little upset. "And whenever I try to talk to Raven about what's bothering her, she becomes very huffy and flounces off, saying that I should already know."