fade away.

sixteen.

. chapter sixteen

After witnessing August being whisked away, Charles and Erik were brought back to reality and the preparations of war.

Everyone had been training nicely -much to Charles's relief- and he believed that they were somewhat ready. However, he couldn't get his mind off of August.

He sat in the lounge after watching President Kennedy give his speech, sitting alone in a room with his thoughts.

If he could contact her using Cerebro, would she answer? Would she even get his message? Charles wasn't sure contacting her would be the smartest or safest thing he's ever done. Considering she would be in another time period it would be difficult to reach her, maybe even damaging to either one of them. Charles wouldn't risk it because he had to get her back.

To some extent, he was relieved that August had gone. It meant that he didn't have to worry about losing her during battle – that she wouldn't have to die at the hands of Shaw. Maybe because she went with her father, she'll have a larger probability of coming home alive.

"Charles," Moira said while entering the room, startling Charles out of his thoughts. "Have you been in here since the speech?"

Charles averted his gaze towards the television, which took up a small part of the room. It was turned off now, nothing but blackness blanketing the thick screen.

Moira traipsed into the room, sitting next to Charles, but not saying a word.

Charles had to admit, he felt a little nervous when around Moira. It was only because he knew how she felt towards him. He was guilty for reading her mind, but it comes so naturally and he couldn't stop himself. Moira liked him more than a friend, and it scared him to be around her, because he didn't feel the same. Of course, Charles liked her, but not in the same way he liked August. Moira was a friend and nothing more. August was a potential lover – one that he couldn't get enough of.

"Can I ask you something, Charles?" Moira whispered.

"Of course, Moira," he said, not taking his eyes away from the television.

It took her a moment before she finally built up the courage to ask, "do you love her?"

Upon the question being asked, Charles immediately assumed that Moira knew about him and August, and that Charles knew about her feelings. It was that, or Moira was jealous of the attention August was receiving, and was willing to show that to Charles. He wasn't sure which one was the situation he was currently in, but he'll have to assume something, or go the vague route.

Acting surprised, Charles turned to Moira with raised eyebrows and slightly widened eyes. "Where'd that question come from?"

Moira rolled her eyes. "Don't act shocked, Charles. You know exactly what's going on."

"Listen, Moira," he sighed, wishing that this would have come at a later date, "I didn't mean to discover your feelings for me. I promise I didn't. And I apologize for keeping it a secret from you, that I knew, but I don't think now is a great time to discuss this."

Moira nodded, pursing her lips. "If you don't like me, Charles, all you have to do is say it."

"August is gone, Moira," Charles snapped, getting upset over the fact that she won't get over it. "She won't be back for a long while, and I'd appreciate it if you would drop the subject and leave me be."

Moira stood up, nodding. "Fine." She stomped over to the door, grabbing hold of the handle before turning back to look at Charles.

"Could you just answer my question?" she whispered, almost desperate for the answer. "Do you love August?"

Charles was silent for a moment, wondering if what he felt towards August would be classified as love. She was wonderful, he enjoyed every minute spent with her. He missed her terribly, even if she only left an hour ago.

"To be honest with you, Moira," he started, pushing his knuckles together, "I don't know if I love her."

Moira sighed, putting her head down. "Then that only means that you will, sooner or later."

Not if I already do, Charles thought to himself as Moira left the room. He felt terrible for putting her down, but he wouldn't lead her on. That would hurt too many people.

Charles let out a deep breath, rising to his feet and walking over to the double doors to his left. He opened them in a grand gesture, as if he were showing off the back lawn.

He was supposed to be on a picnic as of now, but there was a sudden change of plan, and August was gone.

When will you come home, my love?