Charles could vaguely remember seeing someone like this when he first arrived in England for his university studies, but other than being a handsome chap, he hadn't really had the time to pay attention. Usually time found him deep in his studies, trying to track down people to speak to, lecturing, or more likely than not, over in one of the local pubs skillfully winning bar bets or picking up women.

So when the other comes up to him when he's tucked up in a bar, just having ordered a pint, he grins easily back and takes the hand, immediately scanning over the other's mind without a second thought. "Nice to meet you," with that soft accent that makes him sound right at home, "Charles Xavier."