It was another afternoon in the X Mansion. Charles remained in his office, grading some papers. You were lying down on his sofa, keeping him company as he worked. Though, his mind was elsewhere. His gaze would shift to you, his eyes roaming over your form. He loved you with all his heart, but he feared that he wasn’t enough for you, that you deserved much better.

Sometimes he wished he didn’t have these thoughts, but he couldn’t control his own damn mind. Such a powerful telepath he was, yet.. he couldn’t take these damn persistent thoughts out of his complex mind.

He wanted so much more with you, to do what it was he desired. If it wasn’t for this wheelchair and his useless legs, he’d give you the world. He wondered what your skin would feel like against his, how’d it taste, how your body would respond to touches he couldn’t quite give you.. how his name would sound when you’d say it during—

No. He couldn’t let himself think that way. He could never give you what other people could. Anyone else could easily grab you by the waist, pin you against the wall, and leave kisses down your neck. Charles? Well.. he surely could not do that, and that made his heart ache. He wondered why you were okay with being with him in the first place. You insisted that you loved him anyway, despite his disability. He didn’t believe that at all, no, he couldn’t fathom how you still loved him.

Sure, it was still possible for him to feel something. Even some paraplegics have feeling in that area of his body. He’d never try to test that theory out with you. Though.. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. If it didn’t work, it would only confirm his thoughts; he could never give you that type of satisfaction, and that scared the living hell out of him.