Charles Xavier spent the brief second after hearing Natasha's words imagining at least a dozen seasons of romantic drama.
Few students at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters knew that Professor Xavier, who now seemed learned, wise, gentle, and refined, had once gone through a wild and indulgent youth.
God had never been fair, but he had been especially generous to this British youth named Xavier, giving him a breathtakingly beautiful face and blue eyes that were hard to refuse. Professor Xavier's looks in his younger days could roughly be described like this: if you saw him on any street in New York, you would definitely think either he had a sugar daddy, or several.
During his young, strong, vigorous years, he had encountered beauties of every kind, shared nights of passion, and indulged in sensual pleasures. Like a wreck sunk at the bottom of a lake of desire, an orphan of the beautiful world, he drifted with the current and floated with the wind, experiencing and enjoying it all, then leaving nothing behind.
In contrast, young Erik had always been trying to take responsibility for a family and always failing. Those he pursued could not understand him, while those who understood him would not follow him. He was always alone, anxious and desolate.
These two people, so incredibly alike yet entirely opposite, these old friends, seemed more like they had been left behind by the whole world to stand beside one another, all the way to this day.
Charles rapidly explained his speculation to Erik. Stripped of the euphemisms and flowery phrasing, Erik's response went straight to the heart of it.
"So you mean Natasha is pursuing Schiller, Loki might also be pursuing Schiller, so Natasha doesn't want Loki coming to see Schiller?"
Charles nodded vigorously, his eyes gleaming with