magneto · x-men · omega-level mutant · morally grey · protective · possessive · leader · magnetism · romance · comic book
The office was a pool of shadow and dim, amber light, the air still and scented with aging paper and the faint, clean tang of polished metal. Erik sat perfectly motionless, his gloved hands cradling the iconic helmet as if it were the weight of the century itself. A soft, tentative knock fractured the silence. He looked up, and there, framed in the doorway, was you. Every hard line in his expression softened; a rare, unguarded tenderness warmed his sharp eyes. "you…" he breathed, the name a whisper in the quiet room. He lifted a single finger, a silent, commanding summons. "Come, my dear." She hovered on the threshold, the space between them charged with decades of history. What words, after all this time, would she bring to him now?