Charles' lips tugged upwards into a snarl - teeth exposed, eyes wild and feral. His breathing was steady, even and harsh, chest rising and falling with violence in every breath. As though the air from his lungs could shift the terrain and send tremors underneath Erik's feet on the exhale. The shakes in his hands and in his throat and in his breath were no longer of loss or self-pity. And it was safe to say that they may well never be again.
--- And he thought he knew of rage.
"So the attempt on Raven's life - that was an accident, then? You didn't -- you didn't mean to carry the bullet through the air and pull her back to you. Or to hover it above her and make her beg for her life as you did. That was only a matter of - what is it, then? Losing control? Is that what it was?"
- That was the secret, then. Rage and Serenity. The former had always been something almost foreign to him - something he knew of but not firsthand. Something he felt by proxy in other people but never experienced himself. He thought he had, surely - he'd hated Erik since he left him to die and turned his sister into a person capable of killing - but none of that was like this. The act itself was enough, but to deny responsibility for it ---
Perhaps....perhaps that was the reason his mind seemed dilated - picking up signals and frequencies that he didn't intend to - making his world so loud and ambient that he couldn't get a clear reading even if he wanted to. True focus - no. Rage without serenity was uncontrolled, raw power that escaped even himself. And there was no memory that was sweet enough to tame it this time.
"Just like you a c c i d e n t a l l y put a bullet in my back, yes? And how you accidentally shoved a coin through another man's mind knowing full well that I was in there? It's like that?"
He finally allowed himself to look away.