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"Mum," Charles says hesitantly. When his mother is in her office, it's never sure whether she's okay being interrupted or not. "Do you have a moment?"
Luckily, it seems she's alright being disturbed right now. "Come on in, love," she says absently, intent on the screen of her laptop. Charles comes in and puts the two cups of tea he brought down on her desk before closing the door after himself. She doesn't react, and so he curls himself in the chair in front of her desk, sipping at his tea while he patiently waits. When she's finished, his mother pushes down the screen and takes her tea cup with a murmur of thanks, taking a sip and sighing.
"You're the best at making tea," she then tells Charles, as she always does; it's a sort of family joke. "Your years in Oxford were good for something, at least." Never mind that Charles never actually had to make tea there – though he did drink a fair amount. It's probably difficult for Raven and Cain to make proper tea when they don't even like it.
"What is it, then, love?", Sharon eventually prompts when Charles just nods and fills his mouth with tea. "Is it about the party?"
Charles bites his lip. "Erik, uh." He had told Raven everything and Cain some, but he doesn't exactly want to go into detail with his mother. She's kept rather close-lipped while still supportive throughout this whole crush thing, so Charles has no idea what she really thinks. "We're dating now."
He had asked Erik just to make sure before they had separated – just a couple of hours ago, come to think of it. The thought makes Charles giddy, but he suppresses the silly grin that tries to make its way onto his face.
"Oh," his mother says, looking at him, assessing. "How do you feel?"
"Very happy," Charles replies, a bit confused. What sort of question is that?
For a moment Sharon just keeps looking at him searchingly, but finally she relaxes and smiles. "Good," she says. Then her expression turns mischievous. "So what happened?"
Charles feels the silly grin he's been repressing spread out on his face again. "He kissed me!", he reveals gleefully. "And then he let me into his head and then we kissed some more and then we held hands until my curfew."
"Okay, okay, rewind, he let you into his head?", Sharon asks, astonished.
Right. Somewhat embarrassed, Charles ducks his head. "Uh, I might have been laboring under the wrong impression that he was there for Moira." In hindsight, it does make him look astonishingly oblivious; Moira had barely been a footnote in Erik's thoughts, even while she had been standing right in front of him. Charles feels rather bad for her now – her interest in Erik is obvious to anybody but Erik, and Erik doesn't even notice. Because he's too busy noticing Charles, hah.
"Charles," Sharon says in that careful way she adopts when she's about to chastise him. "You're not supposed to…"
"I know," Charles interrupts hastily. It's like a bucketful of cold water, his mother's reminder. "He wanted me to, and he can shield. It's part of his gift."
"Your control is tentative still," Sharon cautions. "There's a reason for these rules."
"I know," Charles says again. "But he could keep me out if he wanted, I made sure, and he wanted me to."
"Okay." Sharon takes a deep breath. "Okay. I trust you, but you have to be careful. I just worry."
"I know," Charles says for the third time. He does; the laws are very strict. One slip and he might end up with a court order to permanently wear a power-suppressing helmet; a horrific thought.
Sharon looks at him searchingly for a moment before she smiles and covers his hand with hers for a moment. "I'm happy for you, darling," she tells him.
Charles finds his smile again.