For once, Charles woke up when Erik did, and although they didn't leave the room together Charles met Erik in the kitchen shortly after Erik originally descended to it. From there he hovered gently over the process of producing breakfast, pitching in with small things that wouldn't get in the way or spoil any of the food. He could set the table, and be entertained by Erik briefly spinning cutlery for him. He even snuck a kiss and caress or two (or three, or four...) before anyone else came down, assuring Erik that yes, he was paying careful attention to anyone coming downstairs, they wouldn't be caught.
True to his word, by the time anyone else joined them Charles was at a companionable and comfortable distance from Erik, arranging--absurdly, perhaps, but it was a habit he'd picked up somewhere--a centerpiece of brightly painted wooden daisies.
"No one worry," he says, with brightness only slightly subdued by the nature of this meeting (at least for now), "I wasn't allowed to actually touch anything edible. You're safe from food poisoning, at least."
He glances at Erik over his shoulder, gauging how far along he was with the finishing touches of breakfast.