Content warning: smoking and suggestive dialogue/interactions

It wasn't often that Suraya left her tattoos uncovered. As much as she loved the intricate vines, leaves and petals that decorated her skin, Suraya learned quickly enough that the people around her weren't as fond of them. There were only so many distasteful looks she could handle, even as she tried to remind herself that they were the problem, not her.

That was one of the reasons why Suraya loved working at the bar. People were friendly, for the most part, but what mattered was that no one cared who was serving their drinks or what they looked like — only that the drinks were strong enough to get drunk.

"I would have paid good money to see James be put in his place." Robyn, Suraya's coworker, announced after Suraya told her about her week. Even though it was Saturday night, the bar hadn't been too busy yet and the two were having casual conversation to pass the time.

"All money is good money when you're broke," Suraya pointed out, reaching across the counter to pick up glasses, and the tip, from the customers who just left. She held up the cash for Robyn to see before dropping it in the tip jar. "And it's definitely not worth wasting on James."

Suraya couldn't stop thinking about yesterday. Specifically, someone she had met, with those blue eyes and that accent, how could she? She was pleading to the universe that somehow he would show up at the bar, maybe end up at his place or hers afterwards.

"Yeah, yeah." Robyn waved her hand as she left to go check on some customers. Suraya started wiping down the counter until Robyn came back. "Another martini."

"Got it."

Robyn leaned back against the counter as Suraya prepared the drink. "So, speaking of money, have you thought about my offer?"

Suraya had finished pouring all the ingredients into the shaker and started mixing them together, ice clashing against the metal the only sound between them.

"I take that as a no," Robyn decided.

As she poured the drink into the martini glass, Suraya sighed. "Sorry, Rob."

"It's fine." Robyn left again to serve the customer, but this time Suraya noticed how she didn't rush back.

Robyn was another reason why Suraya loved working at the bar. She was easy to be around, always the perfect mix of laidback and energetic, there to talk about school or gossip about their latest hookups or complain about work, even while at work. Robyn was one of the reasons Suraya felt she had a normal life. Out of everyone in Suraya's life, Robyn knew the most about her, though that wasn't saying much. After all this time knowing each other, Suraya wondered if Robyn was frustrated with how much Suraya kept from her, even as Robyn tried to get closer to her.

Recently, Robyn had asked Suraya to move in with her after her other roommate moved out. Suraya asked for a few days to think about it.

Yes, Robyn was the closest thing Suraya had to a friend. Yes, sharing rent would be cheaper. Yes, Suraya did sometimes get lonely in her one bedroom apartment. But, Suraya needed that space to be alone because that was when it was safer being herself.

So, yeah, Suraya's answer was always no.

Robyn came back a few minutes later, without the usual cheerful smile on her face.

"Rob —"

"I've gotta take inventory before David bites my head off." With that, Robyn walked away.

Well, Suraya tried. They were getting too close, anyways.

After serving some more customers, pouring some more drinks, and cleaning some empty glasses, Suraya settled back behind the counter. The night went on and the crowd started growing. Suraya greeted and made conversation with some bar regulars along with some newer customers, but one pair in particular caught her eye.

Suraya tried not to be disappointed when London Boy walked in with another girl — the one she'd seen him with on campus a few times. Maybe they were dating, even though Suraya figured he was kind of like her, less of the relationship type.

This definitely was not the night Suraya hoped she would have.

"Hello again," London Boy smiled. "I thought I'd find you here."

"Hey," Suraya greeted, fake smile and all.

"It's lovely to see you again, darling. My night is better already."

Suraya internally cringed at the fact that London Boy said that in front of his date, so she changed the subject, clearing her throat. She looked between London Boy and his date. "What can I get for you?"

"I'll have a brandy," the girl said.

"No," London Boy interrupted. "She'll have a cola."

"No," the girl mimicked. "I'll have a brandy."

"Raven, I am not going to argue about this again —"

"If she's above 21, and I'm usually pretty good at judging this," Suraya interrupted. "I'll get your .... uh, friend whatever drink she wants." The girl — Raven — pulled out her I.D. just to confirm what Suraya already knew. Then, she poured Raven a glass of brandy and slid it to her across the counter.

"Thank you," Raven smiled. She picked up the drink and took a sip."Bartenders usually just ignore what I want and do whatever my brother tells them to do, even though I'm way more fun to listen to."

Brother; that made more sense, Suraya thought. It made the night less hopeless, too.

London Boy rolled his eyes. "For someone over 21, you're being awfully immature."

"Lighten up, it's Saturday night!" Raven took another sip of her drink. "Well, I'm gonna flirt with that cute girl while you flirt with this cute girl." She turned to Suraya and placed a few bills on the counter. "Thanks again for the drink. I'll see you around."

Suraya gave a small wave as London Boy turned his attention towards her.

"Guess it's just you and me."

"And a room full of paying customers," Suraya pointed out with a cheeky smile.

"All just noise," he winked. "You have to let me get you a drink."

Suraya laughed. "I'm not sure how bars work in England, but in New York it's usually the person behind the counter who gets the drinks."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll have a gin and tonic."

Suraya nodded and quickly got his order ready. "Here you are, London Boy."

He accepted the drink gratefully, bringing the glass to his lips. "London Boy?"

"What, you've never had a nickname before?" Suraya teased.

"No, actually I haven't," he chuckled. London Boy set down his beer and extended his hand. "Charles Xavier."

Suraya reached out to shake his hand. "Suraya Rao," she stated. "My friends call me Raya."

His gaze lingered, and so did his hand on hers. "Glad to hear we're already friends."

"Suraya!" David, her manager, suddenly called from his office. He must have heard the noise from his desk, and that's when Suraya realized how busy the bar had gotten in such a short time. "Who's taking these people's orders?"

"I don't know," Suraya yelled back. "Where's Rob?"

"On break," he explained. "Jonny called in sick and I've gotta go through expense reports so hold down the fort until Robyn gets back. You can go on break and flirt with whoever you want then, just not on my time."

Suraya looked to Charles and rolled her eyes at her boss's outburst. "How generous," she muttered so only he could hear. Charles smirked and took a sip of his beer.

"I don't need any sass from you, young lady! These reports are already giving me a headache." How David had such good hearing was beyond her; but, at the end of the day, he gave Suraya a decent job and was a decent manager, too, so she listened to him and got back to work.

As Suraya went to take people's orders and settled back behind the counter to start making them, she noticed that Charles was no longer sitting at the bar. She spotted Raven in the corner, giggling with the girl she had mentioned earlier, with Charles nowhere to be found. When she turned to grab the bottle of vodka behind her, that's when she saw him again across the room. He was talking to a pretty redhead, casually leaning against the wall as she laughed at something he said.

Suraya understood; people needed to keep their options open, and she certainly wasn't one to be tied down to one person. Still—it stung a bit.

"Hey, you can go on break now — oh, they're both cute," Robyn pointed out, following Suraya's gaze. From her cheery tone, Suraya hoped she had forgiven their earlier conversation. "Are you interested in the guy or the girl?"

Suraya shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She turned her attention back to the drinks she made. "These are for table 6, and these for the couple in the corner."

"Thanks. Oh, and can you take that cactus out to the trash?" Robyn pointed to the shriveled plant at the edge of the bar counter. "I found it in the back; apparently David wanted to spruce up the place. Maybe next time."

Suraya picked up the cactus and held it tightly in her hand.

"I'll be back in 15."

「࿔༻❀༺࿔」

Suraya really was trying to quit. She'd started smoking at a young age as a stupid act of rebellion with the other girls at the reformatory, or maybe just to have some semblance of control over their lives. After that, it became a habit — a bad one, she knew. Those are always the hardest to quit.

So, Suraya found herself sitting on the last step of the staircase leading to the alley between Dave's Bar and the neighboring restaurant, with a semi-dead cactus beside her, exhaling smoke into the soft evening twilight. Glancing at the plant beside her, Suraya waved her hand to give it some life back. It wasn't fair, how much nature's survival was sometimes so dependent on humans.

She took another drag of her cigarette, and hated herself for it. At least now, she was making her own cigarettes from herbs and flower petals.

"You shouldn't smoke," Charles pointed out, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "Even if it is just dried raspberry leaf and blue lotus."

Suraya brought the cigarette back to her lips as Charles settled on the stairs beside her. Based on his fancy British accent and seemingly endless supply of button-downs, Suraya wouldn't have thought he'd be okay sitting in an alley where the bar's trash cans and probably a family or two of rats lived, but she was glad he did.

"Okay," Suraya exhaled. There was no way Charles could have guessed what she had rolled in her cigarette, and it was strange that it was on her mind when he did. Come to think of it, he had done something similar when they first met. "How do you do that?"

"Be effortlessly charming?"

"No, but maybe we can circle back to that," Suraya chuckled. "But, I mean how do you know my thoughts without me saying anything? Like you did yesterday, with Frankenstein."

Out the corner of her eye, Suraya noticed how Charles vaguely gestured towards the markings on her skin. "Let's just say, you have your tricks and I have mine."

"Oh yeah?" Suraya finally turned to face Charles and raised her eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Charles smiled and, this time, pointed to the cactus that sat between them. "That plant is very lucky."

"You didn't answer my question," Suraya countered, trying to remain calm. Charles could have meant anything by that statement, but something about the way he looked at her, so intently and with such curiosity, made her uneasy. She turned away, took a long drag of her cigarette, and breathed more smoke into the cold air.

"I know who you are, Suraya," Charles replied. "I know what you can do."

Suraya paused, her heart suddenly racing, and not in the good way it had been around Charles. She was very much aware of the irony in her reaction: Suraya didn't want to hide who she was, but she was terrified at the possibility of a stranger knowing. How could he have known, though? She had been so careful to hide herself.

Only one person knew about Suraya's abilities, about what she was.

Suraya stood up. She let her cigarette drop to the ground and crushed it with the back of her heel.

"Okay." Suraya let out a sharp breath. "Who are you? She sent you, didn't she? Because I want nothing to do with her, so tell her to fuck off. And you can do the same." Without another word, Suraya started walking up the stairs, a rare occasion where she was happy to get back to work, get back to the facade of her normal life.

"Wait, you don't understand," Charles rushed. "I'm like you."

Suraya paused in the middle of the staircase and turned around. "What?"

Charles got to his feet. He picked up the cactus and was holding it gently. He stood there, in the dim alley light, with one hand in his pocket, and the other clutching a small plant. Suraya would have thought it was cute if not for the circumstances. "Mutation took us from single celled organisms to the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet. And, in the advent of the nuclear age, mutation has accelerated and so individuals with extraordinary abilities already live among us."

God, Suraya hated that anything Charles said sounded kind of sexy, even if it was incredibly boring in theory. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, one of the things my mutation allows me to do is that I can read your mind. Meaning that I know all the wonderful things your mutation allows you to do."

Suraya paused. "Fine. Say I believe you..."

"And you should, because I am telling the truth." Charles walked up to the step where Suraya was standing, the two standing face to face.

"Prove it," she whispered, briefly glancing at his lips before meeting his gaze.

"Alright," Charles agreed, a slight smile on his face. He handed her the cactus and brought two fingers to his temple. He closed his eyes, cleared his throat. "Frankenstein is one of your favorite books."

"Easy guess," Suraya decided. "Based on the conversations we've had so far."

Charles furrowed his brow, as though trying to concentrate more, but that stupid smirk gave him away. He was good at playing games; Suraya will give him that.

"You're left handed."

"Something you could have noticed when I was getting your drink." Suraya would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed. Part of her hoped Charles was telling the truth instead of being sent by someone to ask for something, maybe forgiveness or a second chance.

It was too little, too late. If that was why he was looking for Suraya, Charles was out of luck.

She climbed the last few stairs to the top, pausing just in front of the bar entrance.

"Sorry, I'm not convinced. My previous statement holds up: you can fuck off. And tell my mother to do the same."

"Wait, wait." Charles grabbed her hand gently before Suraya could go inside. She stopped and let go of the doorknob, instead crossing her arms and giving Charles one last chance. "Apparently — and this is directly from you — I sound kind of sexy, even if what I'm saying is incredibly boring. In theory."

This time, Suraya was out of words. And Charles had literally taken those words out of her mind. Maybe it was just a weird coincidence.

Or, maybe I was telling the truth. Like I said, I'm like you.

Wait. Was that Charles' voice in Suraya's head?

Yes, love, it was. In front of her, Charles actually smirked. Sexy, isn't it?

It was then that Suraya noticed her hand was still holding Charles'. She pulled it away, walked down the stairs and passed Charles to once again sit on the last step, setting the semi-alive cactus next to her. She pulled out another cigarette and her lighter.

"Okay, fine I believe you." She put the cigarette between her lips and lit it as Charles sat back down next to her. She inhaled and let out a slow breath. "I should definitely be embarrassed that you heard that, but I don't really care because....you're saying I'm not the only one who...is different."

Charles nodded.

Suraya nodded and took another puff of her cigarette. "And, you know about me — about what I've done and what I can do."

"It doesn't scare me," Charles confirmed.

"That's..." Suraya couldn't help but smile. Here was someone beside her, an actual person, who actually saw Suraya for who she was. She didn't need to explain anything, justify her existence. Charles was like her. He understood. "Amazing."

"Amazing," Charles agreed.

"And my mother didn't send you to find me?"

"Not at all. From what I can tell, she isn't too fond of people like us—of mutants."

"Mutants," Suraya repeated. She let the word settle in her lungs, mixed with the flowery-sweet smoke from her cigarette. "How much....how much do you know about me?"

"Everything."

"Great," Suraya mumbled sarcastically. "And is that why you came to find me tonight? Because you know who — what — I am?"

"Not at all. I just thought in the spirit of full transparency, I would tell you the truth before we did anything." Charles reached out his hand for Suraya's cigarette, which she handed to him. Charles took a drag, but let out a cough as he exhaled.

Suraya chuckled. "Sexy," she teased, taking the cigarette back from him. "You know, you shouldn't smoke."

"Neither should you," Charles pointed out again, still with a slight cough. "I feel like I just inhaled a flower shop."

"You get used to it after a while." Suraya smoked the cigarette without hesitation. She hated how easy that was for her. She hated how she craved that burn in her lungs. She hated how much calmer it made her feel. "Why did you come find me, then?" She waited for him to answer, letting the cigarette sit between her lips.

Charles looked at her with his signature smile, equal parts playful and dazzling. He took the cigarette out of Suraya's mouth and let it drop to the ground. Then, he moved in closer.

"I wasn't finished with that," she said, noticing how his eyes shifted to her lips and then back to her eyes. Their knees were practically touching at this point.

"If our mutations were switched, you'd be able to see all the fun things I imagine us doing. That's why I found you tonight."

Suraya's heart was racing, and her throat suddenly felt dry. There was an intimacy between them she wasn't ready for, the way Charles already knew her, already understood. She wasn't the type to get attached. But, God, her body was pleading her to do otherwise.

Charles reached over and tucked a stray curl behind Suraya's ear. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Like he didn't already know the answer, she thought.

Charles leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing Suraya's. "I need you to say it," he whispered.

Suraya promised herself she wouldn't get too attached.

"Kiss me."

When they kissed, it wasn't soft or delicate. Charles tasted like the gin he'd had earlier and there was something intoxicating about the way it blended perfectly with the flowery residue on Suraya's lips. He hooked his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans to bring her even closer, and she tangled her hands in his hair. Suraya's head was spinning, and she hadn't even had a drink.

This was a risk Suraya was willing to take.

  「࿔༻❀༺࿔」

Author's note

I am finally publishing the second chapter of this fic! Considering how much time I spend thinking about it I was hoping to publish more so fingers crossed. Anyways, thank you for reading and as always, comments and votes are very much appreciate. 

Also, special thanks to sukibenders for being so talented and creating the amazing closing banner for this fic <3

Title inspiration: "Delicate" by Taylor Swift