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If any of his friends were to ask Erik why he kept coming back to the little café on the corner of 11th Avenue, he would tell the truth – that he just really liked the coffee.
The coffee. That is the ultimate truth.
That was also the reason that Erik would sit down for 10 minutes and continuously look towards the door waiting for the small bell to chime.
The coffee.
It had been two weeks since he had first visited, and he wasn’t ashamed to say he had become severely attached to the café. He looked at his watch, seeing the time to be about 8:15am. He sighed, picking up his to-go cup, and then slowly rose from his – vaguely uncomfortable and tough - chair.
If someone were to ask the right question, use the right word, Erik would laugh, tell them the coffee was fairly good and then – and then Erik would keep the answer to himself, the answer to the better question; Who is the reason you keep going back?
Today he tried to ignore the true reason for his consistent number of visits – the true reason that didn’t turn up – and walked over to the bin next to the door before pushing it open--
The same door that smashed into the face of another person within the motion.
“Fuck!”
Whoever the door hit fell backwards, making little to no effort to stop his own fall, arms tumbling around awkwardly when he hit the floor.
Erik pushed the door open – careful not to hit him again – and rushed outside both angry and apologetic. “I’m really sorry, but dude, you do not just stand in front of a fucking door. Couldn’t you see me coming through?”
He hadn’t meant to sound like an asshole, but he was angry his who hadn’t shown up, and his coffee was cold and at this point he was probably late for his meeting because he had waited for his who to show up.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
The voice that replied to him wasn’t coming from the guy on the floor, but the woman in front of him. She was gorgeous, with her electric blue skin and bright red hair, and Erik probably would have gone for it once upon a time, when he wasn’t attached to someone he had never spoken to, in the current situation with the guy still on the floor – it was taking him a while to get up? – and she wasn’t furious with him.
“Look, lady, I’m sorry but your boyfriend was in the way.”
She rolls her eyes and eventually the guy stands up to his full height, wobbly on his legs, reaching out for the woman's arm and hooking them together.
And that’s when he realises the guy and his who are one in the same.
He gapes.
“He’s not my boyfriend asshole, he’s my brother.”
The man – not a random guy, not a random guy – rolls his eyes, and takes his glasses off the woman, except they aren’t normal glasses. They’re almost sunglasses – Erik takes a second to look at the cloudy sky before shaking his head and moving on. If his man has to wear glasses in cloudy weather, Erik can make that sacrifice for love.
“Raven, please.”
“No Charles! You shouldn’t deal with shit like this.”
His man, apparently named Charles, rolls his eyes again. “You know very well I can fight my own battles, now please aim me at my attacker.” He says the final word with a small smirk just behind Erik and he fights the urge to turn around to see if someone is behind him.
“I didn’t give you concussion, did I?”
Charles didn’t seem to look him in the eye, and while this would suggest he was ashamed of his actions – Erik had avoided the eye of his mother quite a lot in his youth – realistically, despite Erik saying otherwise, he had no reason to be.
“No. Blindness isn’t caused by concussion, but I appreciate the concern.”
Oh.
The girl – Raven – had helped Charles up onto his feet and he had continued to hook his arm around hers in a way that he assumed was just something that came with siblings. The glasses. The clumsy steps.
Oh. Shit.
“I- I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t even realise. “
Raven laughed, somewhat bitterly, interrupting him. “Of course you care now that you know he is bli-“
Charles lightly nudges her with his elbow, enough to take Raven’s attention from Erik’s own ashamed face, before looking in his own general direction: “It’s fine honestly. You’re not the first, and definitely won’t be the last.”
Erik frowns, “That doesn’t mean you should deal with it,” he pauses before continuing, “maybe you should let your sister defend you on that front.”
Charles rolls his eyes, elbowing his sister again, “She knows I can defend myself when it is necessary. Especially with the ol’,” he taps his own temple. Erik’s confusion must show on his face as Raven explains:
“Telepathy. He’s telepathic; he could probably figure out a person’s intentions before they even stepped within 10 miles of where he was.”
“And your intentions were pure, my friend.” Charles says, smiling.
Erik laughs lightly, if a slight bit uncomfortable. Telepathy? Does that mean he had been in his head the entire time?
Charles’ smile turns into a frown. “I only read surface thoughts, usually if they’re particularly loud. I don’t- do anything else unless given permission.”
“No- no that’s not-“ Erik pauses, trying to figure out how to explain it without blushing, “I was just- the last time you were in the café I was, um, checking you out? Last Thursday I believe, and Friday. And yesterday.”
Charles recoils, not in fear but in pure surprise. “Oh. “
Raven looked at her brother and silently rolled her eyes, before smiling in Erik’s direction. “Well then, I guess we know that you weren’t being a prick, mostly, so it’s time for us,” she refers to her and Charles, “to go.”
Erik nods slowly before the realisation floods upon him. “Fuck, I’m late for a meeting.”
He runs off, quickly making his way down the path, waving behind him, smiling when he hears Charles mumble “He checked me out?”
Hopefully he sees them again.
He does.