"I like it," For a moment there's a tug at the corners of his lips, but the expression doesn't quite stay-- it hardly ever does. For a moment he just stares past him, into the distance, at nothing-- because he's not sure what to make of Charles; this Charles-- it wasn't him. He could tell, too neatly pressed to be him. He doesn't believe he's real either; no, that would be silly-- he could belong to that part of his mind, the normal part, the one that let him know there was something wrong in his head. He wasn't oblivious to it, not with the way Raven had to care for him and help him out-- but he doesn't think on that for long either. Can't. Doesn't want to.

"It's not familiar to me either," Not really, his dreams rarely stayed the same; prone to drifting off in the ever changing world of dreams sometimes he wasn't even entirely sure they were his own. A twist of his wrist, the hem of his pajama top gripped between his fingers, curling reflexively and a bit unsure of himself around... himself. A pause as his head lifts up, curiosity written across his face,

"Are you me?"