ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

𝘚𝘪𝘹

"Alright," Charles said, standing beside Erik with a clipboard in hand. "Use your powers on these poles in the ground. The goal is control, not destruction."

You nodded, exhaling slowly as you stepped forward. In front of you stood a line of metal poles embedded in the ground—each one a test of your focus.

You closed your eyes for a second, centered yourself, and raised your hands. That familiar hum returned—that blue energy danced to life around your fingers like electricity made of light. You reached out with your mind, trying to lift the poles.

The first few shuddered.

Then SNAP—one of them cracked in half and slammed to the dirt.

You winced.

"Focus, Y/n!" Charles called from behind you.

You gritted your teeth and narrowed your gaze. This time, the remaining poles began to rise—shaking at first, then slowly pulling free from the earth, dragging thick wires with them.

You didn't notice it at first, but your feet had begun to leave the ground. You were floating. Actually floating.

"You're making yourself float," Charles said, half in awe, half analytical.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh my god—"

The moment your concentration broke, gravity remembered you existed.

"Shi—"

"Don't worry. I got you."

Before you even had time to panic, strong arms caught you mid-fall. You blinked up—Erik. His face was close to yours, that small smirk playing at his lips.

Your heart stuttered.

"Uh... thanks, Erik," you mumbled, your face suddenly warm.

"No problem," he said, still holding you a beat longer than necessary before gently setting you on your feet.

Your hands lingered on his arms a moment too long. His didn't move either.

You cleared your throat and looked away, but you couldn't hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. Your stomach fluttered—light and unexplainable.

You didn't quite know what this feeling was... but whatever it was, you really liked it.

And from the look in Erik's eyes... maybe he felt it too.

——

We all stood silently around the television, the flickering screen casting long shadows across the room. The President's voice was firm, unwavering.

"It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile crossing the embargo line that surrounds Cuba as an attack by the Soviet Union on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response..."

Everyone tensed. The words were heavy, final.

"That's where we're going to find Shaw," Erik said, eyes fixed on the screen.

"How do you know?" you asked, glancing over at him.

"Two superpowers, on the brink of war..." Charles began, "...and Shaw wants to start that war. He won't leave anything to chance."

The room went still.

"So much for diplomacy," Erik muttered. "I suggest you all get a good night's sleep."

With that, he turned and walked out.

⸻

You found yourself walking down the hallway later, feet carrying you on instinct. That's when you saw Raven stepping out of a room—Erik's room.

"Everything okay, Raven?" you asked, slowing your steps.

She froze for a beat. "I'm fine. Thanks, though," she said quickly, and hurried past you.

You frowned slightly, but moved forward and knocked on the door.

There was a shuffle, and then Erik's voice:
"Raven, I said not until you're—"
He stopped short as he opened the door and saw it was you.

"Oh. Come in," he said, voice softer now.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just..." you hesitated, suddenly nervous under his gaze, "...wanted to say thank you. For catching me earlier."

"You don't need to thank me," Erik said, stepping a little closer. His eyes didn't leave yours.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he studied you—really looked at you, like he was noticing things he hadn't let himself see before.

"I never realized just how beautiful you are," he said quietly, lifting a hand to your cheek.

Your breath hitched. "Uh... thanks."

"You don't need to be nervous around me," he murmured, his voice low, soothing.

His face was inches from yours now. Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours—soft at first, then more insistent. His hands moved to your waist, guiding you gently back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

You didn't resist.

The world outside—the war, the fear, the future—faded, and for now, it was just the two of you, locked in a moment that neither of you had expected, but neither wanted to stop.

Erik's lips were warm, slow at first, like he was giving you time to pull away—only you didn't. Instead, you leaned into him, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss. His hands were confident but gentle, one on the curve of your waist, the other sliding up to cup your face.

The hum of your powers stirred under your skin, blue energy crackling faintly at your fingertips in response to the rush of adrenaline and... something else. Something you didn't fully understand but didn't want to stop feeling.

He broke the kiss, just for a breath, resting his forehead against yours. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me."

Your heart thudded in your chest. "I might have a clue."

He chuckled softly, but there was a gravity to his gaze—like he wasn't just looking at you, he was seeing you.

Then he kissed you again—this time with more fire, more hunger, like something inside him had finally snapped free. The tension between you, all the glances, the quiet understanding, the shared grief and strength—it all rushed to the surface.

You barely noticed when the backs of your knees hit the bed, and Erik eased you down onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours. The weight of his body pressed against yours, grounding you in a way nothing else ever had.

Your powers flared again, flickering blue along your skin, and Erik paused, eyes widening slightly.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" you asked quickly.

"No," he said, smiling like you'd just shown him the stars. "You're... magnificent."

His words melted the last bit of nervousness from your chest.

You reached up, running your fingers through his hair as he lowered himself again, slower this time, more deliberate. His touch was everywhere—fingertips mapping your skin, learning every place that made you shiver, every quiet gasp you gave.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't about control or power. It was connection. A moment where everything else—the war, Shaw, the world—was forgotten.

Just the two of you, tangled in silence, hearts racing in sync.