Charles is, for lack of a better word, shocked. Everything seems to be moving so very slowly and far too fast all at the same time, and he isn't sure whether or not his brain is keeping up with things, especially not his body, so he simply stands there, stunned, arms lowering slowly from the hold on Raven when she pulls away. If he weren't so surprised by all of this he might hold on. Would he? Should he? He isn't sure, doesn't know if that's what he wants to do, or if it would be for the right reasons, so for the time being it's probably for the best.
So many thoughts and feelings swim around in his mind, whizzing by too quickly to really hold onto them long enough to focus on.
Eventually he does snap out of it, unsure of what he's going to do or what he's going to say, but knowing that something right now is perhaps better than nothing at all, and either way he's almost certain it's going to be the wrong thing.
Charles laughs. A loud, sharp, although short, burst of sound that pulls out of his lungs and echoes around them. But there's no humour to it, if anything it's more an act of relief, and he does feel better for it once it's over. "Oh, Raven, is that what all of this has been about? The strange way that you have been behaving, and the quite frankly upsetting mood swings?" He's smiling as this part of it is registering, sinking in enough for him to join some of the dots, but it doesn't last.
"But I do love you, Raven, and, yes, as your brother, as a member of a family would love any of their relatives." There's a bitter little twist to his lips, and he adds in a mutter, "Well, most family members at the very least." He sighs, at somewhat of a loss, and takes a small step closer to fill some of the space that she's put between them. "But I have never thought of you that way, Raven, I'm sorry. Anyone would be so very lucky to have you, I truly believe that, but I'm afraid I'm not that lucky nor have I ever been."
The thought of anyone feeling that way towards him is absurd, maybe in passing, but as something meaningful? It's laughable. And to think that Raven, the young girl that he adopted as his sister and gone to great lengths to protect and care for, who he's watched grow up into a fine and beautiful young woman, no credit to himself, is just...impossible. The fact is that he's never thought about it, never even considered it, not because of Raven but because of himself, because he has never thought himself worthy enough of anything serious, always pictured himself growing old in the mansion, still engrossed in his work, with visits from Raven and her family, because Charles is many things, of that he is aware, but capable of being the thing that someone should commit to is not one of them.
"Come on, we really do need to get you inside and out of the cold. How about we discuss this further over a cup of a tea, mmm?" As much as he wants anything other than to be having this conversation, if not only because he doesn't really know what to say in response, or how to deal with it in the right way, he really is worried that if she stays out in the cool night with the rain still slowly coming down that she's going to end up getting sick. "There should still be a packet of those biscuits that you like so much at the back of the cupboard."
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So many thoughts and feelings swim around in his mind, whizzing by too quickly to really hold onto them long enough to focus on.
Eventually he does snap out of it, unsure of what he's going to do or what he's going to say, but knowing that something right now is perhaps better than nothing at all, and either way he's almost certain it's going to be the wrong thing.
Charles laughs. A loud, sharp, although short, burst of sound that pulls out of his lungs and echoes around them. But there's no humour to it, if anything it's more an act of relief, and he does feel better for it once it's over. "Oh, Raven, is that what all of this has been about? The strange way that you have been behaving, and the quite frankly upsetting mood swings?" He's smiling as this part of it is registering, sinking in enough for him to join some of the dots, but it doesn't last.
"But I do love you, Raven, and, yes, as your brother, as a member of a family would love any of their relatives." There's a bitter little twist to his lips, and he adds in a mutter, "Well, most family members at the very least." He sighs, at somewhat of a loss, and takes a small step closer to fill some of the space that she's put between them. "But I have never thought of you that way, Raven, I'm sorry. Anyone would be so very lucky to have you, I truly believe that, but I'm afraid I'm not that lucky nor have I ever been."
The thought of anyone feeling that way towards him is absurd, maybe in passing, but as something meaningful? It's laughable. And to think that Raven, the young girl that he adopted as his sister and gone to great lengths to protect and care for, who he's watched grow up into a fine and beautiful young woman, no credit to himself, is just...impossible. The fact is that he's never thought about it, never even considered it, not because of Raven but because of himself, because he has never thought himself worthy enough of anything serious, always pictured himself growing old in the mansion, still engrossed in his work, with visits from Raven and her family, because Charles is many things, of that he is aware, but capable of being the thing that someone should commit to is not one of them.
"Come on, we really do need to get you inside and out of the cold. How about we discuss this further over a cup of a tea, mmm?" As much as he wants anything other than to be having this conversation, if not only because he doesn't really know what to say in response, or how to deal with it in the right way, he really is worried that if she stays out in the cool night with the rain still slowly coming down that she's going to end up getting sick. "There should still be a packet of those biscuits that you like so much at the back of the cupboard."