Chapter 13: Heart-Shaped Box
~"Deep in her stomach peered a half-empty wine bottle and beyond the pale glass, her gaze must be nearly half a mile away. 'The light must distort it, but the distortions are the world,' she returned to the wine bottle, 'we've grown up with it, distortions we don't notice.' He touched her chin, 'tell me how I am.' 'That's what artists are for,' she said."~ Victoria Elena M.
WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER
The months seemed to fly by, in an almost dreamlike sequence for Scarlett. With July in the air, she got to wear her ratty converses again instead of those awfully tight winter boots. And with a certain type of sadness, longing and dreadful homesickness, she realized that she would be officially a senior in highschool by now. The school year had already finished and all of her friends would be on summer break then. Her grief never lasted long though because usually her eyes would land on Charlie and they would both smile and practically run at each other and kiss passionately as if the world was ending around them and Scarlett would forget. Completely forget about it. Forget that she had an actual life before him, before this. It was almost like a sickness, how he completely numbed her from her melancholy and hope for escape. In a way, he was trapping her there, whether he knew it or not.
With the winter months over, the shows had started back up. Scarlett had long gotten used to the stage, with the ridiculous outfit they threw her in and the amount of makeup on her face, no one would recognize her; she was a different person and being a different person made it easy for her to be in front of hundreds. They finally added Scarlett's picture on the side of Irene and her's caravan also. Whoever painted it, however, did a horrendous job as the female on the side looked nothing like her, and perhaps it was done to protect her identity as the poor kidnapped girl. The most peculiar thing about becoming a different person for the show was that she became a fan favorite. Apparently, a lot of people enjoyed 'The Scarlett Bunny's' singing. Often after shows she would get little girls coming up to her with admiration in their eyes, always leaving Scarlett with a watery smile and flattered, blushed cheeks. Sometimes the occasional older man would try to smooth-talk her (Charlie would somehow magically appear and terrorize them) and that would be the only downside for her new singing 'career'.
Axel's broken arm eventually healed, to Scarlett's dismay, and Bruce's nails grew back; it was like everything died down and life there was peaceful again, as peaceful as it could be. Charlie and Scarlett even made it their own private joke to make a show out of calling each other brother and sister in front of Axel, just for the fun of it. The man still hadn't gotten the message that they were making fun of him. Scarlett was happy to know that they made his plan backfire.
For the fourth of July weekend, they were open almost twenty four seven. In the new town, tons of people flocked to the sideshow and the shows Scarlett had to be in were almost continuous throughout the day. Though on the actual day of the fourth of July, there was only one show, earlier in the day, and then a fireworks show at night sponsored by local dealers that sold cheap fireworks for them. It was a hard weekend with the amount of chaos around the freakshow, everyone busying around and getting things done. Scarlett often thought she lost her voice more than once to the amount of times they had to preform, but she didn't complain because then she would think about how Nina and Irene trapezed without safety ropes (she, herself, nearly died doing it), how Ebony breathed fire (not a pleasant experience at all to do), and how Charlie was in a pit with lions (already proven not safe.)
But it all paid off on the fourth of July. After the one show, they were finished. And with the dinner canceled for the firework show that night, Scarlett got to finally enjoy herself. More importantly, Charlie and her were planning to have a picnic as they watched the fireworks. It had been nearly seven months since they had started dating. Half a year, Scarlett realized. She had never known someone as deeply as she knew Charlie and had never had someone know her as deeply as he knew her.
So there she was. Standing in flats and a pale pink skirt, her golden blonde hair in a braid down her back, she waited. She nervously tapped her foot in the grass as she watched for the tall, attractive man. Charlie was supposed to be coming any second now with the picnic basket and blankets. It was kind of annoying to be standing for so long right then. The July heat was like a heavy blanket and the misquitos, especially since it was nighttime, kept coming to bite at her skin, causing her to dance almost to avoid them. In the long grass of the lawn, a whole sea of a people sat with their lawn chairs and towels, beers and drinks in their hands as they laughed and twittered loudly. All of them waiting for the fireworks show to start, just like her. Scarlett was surprised to see that they even hired a vendor to sell funnel cakes and hot dogs to the hungry public.
It made her feel better that she wasn't the only freak -she started to consider herself as a freak now, scarily enough, she was apart of their group but she wouldn't go as far to say family, thinking of Axel- from the show to be watching. She spotted Alex, Allie, Felicity, Nia, and Nina watching far away from all the people. Scarlett would normally go talk to them but she wanted Charlie and her to be in privacy this time. And looking to the right, a couple yards away she noticed Archer.
Being the tall man of the show, his legs were stretched out wide as he sat in his own lawn chair, a pair of binoculars in his lap. Scarlett didn't really understand why he brought binoculars, considering fireworks are easy to see in the sky, but she didn't question it. Frankly, he scared the girl.
And it didn't help when she saw him muttering to himself. A full-blown conversation. "You're a joke. You'll never be good enough. What are you doing taking insults from me. Put me to rest. Get rid of me!" Each sentence got louder and more aggressive, till the point his head rocked forward as he spit the words out. It was bizarre and Scarlett could only stare with large, round eyes. The fact that he had no stutter like usual made her question her sanity.
It made her sad at first, because no one in the right mental state would be talking to themselves like how he was doing and the sentences coming out of his aged mouth seemed very harmful. Then, the nerves set in and she was left more anxious for Charlie's arrival.
Eventually, he came with a basket of what she presumed was food and a blanket in his other arm. They found a place to set their blanket down and both got situated on the fabric, Scarlett sending a few cautious glances at Archer while doing so. She didn't know whether to say anything to Charlie about it, she decided to pass because it wasn't really her business in the first place.
"There's a lot of weeds here," Charlie noted as he handed her a sandwich from the wick basket. "Look at all of the dandelions." Scarlett looked around, seeing the overwhelming amount of white dandelions scattered in the tall grass. Pretty much the whole lawn was weeds. She had the sudden urge to go and blow on them and watch the gray seeds flutter away in the wind. It was childish just like her memories of them a long time ago.
"Dandelions aren't weeds," Scarlett said, taking the sandwich from him and unpealing the sticky, plastic wrap around it, "They're flowers that just don't know where they want to be yet."
"They're weeds, they never go away, and they're everywhere," he argued through a bite of an apple. "Pretty sure, that's a weed." Charlie's tone was completely lighthearted but Scarlett somehow felt attacked by his words. She had the strange need to defend the poor plants.
"Well then I like weeds. They're fighters," she said, "They never give up- they're sprayed, uprooted from where they grow, and they always come back. And sometimes they grow brigher than before. I wish I could be a dandelion." Plucking one from the grass and with one big breath, she blew at the dandelion and the two watched the seeds drift, carried wherever the wind took them. Yeah, she wanted to be a dandelion.
"You sound crazy but I like it."
They both sat there after, he couldn't argue with her anymore. All they did was watch the families around them, talk and laugh, carefree as they eat their dinner of apples and sandwiches.
And as she ate that sandwich he made for her (a ham, lettuce, tomato, and cheese one to be exact,) Charlie took out the black leather journal she had gotten him for Christmas and began to write in it. He had already started to fill up the pages with ink, taking the thing nearly everywhere he went; it straightened his scattered and messy thoughts and more importantly with words from his labyrinth of personalities, he graced the pages with spilled ink of her.
Glancing up every so often to admire her profile as she stared off into space, her mouth moving up and down in a chewing motion for the sandwich, Charlie scratched out words in his messy scrawl. But with one swift movement, the page was ripped from his hands. Scarlett held it in her own now, a sneaky smile on her face, and he would've laughed normally on how she had bread crumbs on her cheek, but she was holding an extremely embarrassing journal in her hands. "Scarlett, don't," he warned, snatching his hand out to take it. But she was already dodging and up on her feet.
Looking down at the already wrinkled and weathered journal pages, Scarlett thumbed through it, searching for one of his works. It was funny to watch him squirm as she did so. The page he had been writing on when she took it only had a couple words written, nothing complete, nothing of interest. She paused on one page where the black ink faded and became more scratchier as the writing got longer. "Don't," Charlie's voice was low and guarded; he was getting to his feet now too.
"Why not? I wanna see your writing, you see my artwork!" Clearing her throat, glancing up at him with a devious smile, she quickly read aloud the words before he could rip it away.
"She has a sprinking of faint freckles across her nose like cinnamon on rice pudding. There's a birthmark in the shape of an apple on her thigh. One of her teeth is slightly crooked due to her smashing it on the side of a table when she was little. There's symmetrical purple veins on her thin wrists that look like miniature trees. The list is extensive and my pen has run out of ink but the point here is, god, she is beautiful."
Blinking her eyes, Scarlett looked at him, her mouth gaped, lost for words. The writing was beautiful and she had never thought someone would even write, nonetheless, think that about her like that. She felt her eyes burn again with tears, her cheeks beginning to flush pink, suddenly ashamed. She had just tore it away from him in the rudest way, stripping him from his privacy when she had given it to him in the first place to store his thoughts. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it from you," she mumbled softly, her voice weak as she handed him the small book, "Thank you for that. No one has ever thought I was beautiful."
"Everyone does," Charlie said, slowly sitting back down, sounding defeated. He was really hoping that she wasn't scared of him now for writing such revealing things. But she didn't seem to be scared, instead flattered and mostly weepy over the fact that she had read it without permission. Typical Scarlett.
For that, he was extremely greatful because he knew she didn't love him. And he knew that the thought of that one word still scared her. She was still young and innocent; he could still see her purity sometimes when he said things and her eyes would get wide and her pale skin would become red with blush. She had changed from when she had first came to them, but she was also still the same.
For him though, the certainty that she was incapable of loving him, in which he didn't blame her because he was well....him, saddened him because he had quite the opposite predictament with her. He knew because his eyes couldn't see unless he was looking at her face. His lips wouldn't form words unless they were directed at her. His arms wouldn't hold anything unless they were holding her. His legs wouldn't walk unless they were walking to her. He wouldn't function unless the action benefitted her and somehow he was okay with that.
"It's starting Charlie," Scarlett elbowed him, drawing him out of his thoughts. Blinking rapidly, he looked up at the dome of blackness above and watched as it suddenly exploded with light.
Bright sparks of colors illuminated the dark sky. Along with the cheering and the gasps emanating from the crowd, the night was filled with loud shots and crackling fire. Fizzy streams of golden light swiggled drawings in the air, fading into gunshot smoke afterwards. Designs of purple, green, orange, pink, blue, almost any color imaginable bloomed like flowers with a pop into the sky. Some were large and grand and others were small and pretty; either way, it was fascinating to watch. For cheap fireworks bought off a couple scummy men, it was pretty amazing.
Scarlett watched Charlie as his brown eyes got wider at the scene, his jaw dropping a bit in awe. He had never seen fireworks before she could tell; the wonder and amazement in them was reminiscent of that of a little boy. She had never liked brown eyes that much until she met him, and seeing his eyes as happy as they did now, like buckets of beautiful dark gold, she could say that he was her favorite color. And as a result, she couldn't help the bubble of laughter she let out at the sight of him.
He turned, a large lopsided grin on his face, dimples protruding from his cheeks, and she laughed more. And then they were kissing and the world faded a bit.
She didn't remember the last time she had gone on an adventure. The last time she had felt the wind ruffle her hair and seep through her skin, the last time she smiled at the sights around her. But now, here she was, sitting in the summer grass and blowing at dandelions with her laughing without a care in the world as his wanderlust eyes revealed places she had never cared about before. She would sit atop a rock and watch the sunset in each new place with him. She looked at the sun stare back at her. Then she would lay on her back with him and her hand in his hand and saw the moon and the stars and a constellation in the blanket of night. She saw them, though simple enough, and she saw him. He turned those simple sights, she had long become used to, into something extraordinary, and turned the most mediocre things into something spectacular.
These fireworks were different to her, than all those ones she had watched growing up, ...probably because of him.
The firework show had to come to an end eventually. And when it did, the two remained on the blanket and watched the families and friends and couples head out, smiling and murmuring amoungst each other. It was nice to see normal families for Scarlett, to remember how a mother would always check on her children in a crowd and how friends would stay in tight circles as they walked. It would usually make her sad. For Charlie though, seeing these people act like they did towards each other, was strange like they were a completely other species. But he had become accustomed to it and only cared about the girl next to him.
"Scarlett, I-uh," he tried to speak, a sentence heavy on his mind. Since he knew she would react negatively, he became tongue-tied; he didn't want to mess this up.
"Huh?" Scarlett asked, a warm smile reaching her face as she fluttered her eyes to his. She was to busy searching his face, engraving every part of it for this memory, to see his nervousness.
"Nevermind," Charlie waved off, his hands clenching; he couldn't do it. "Everyone's almost gone." Scarlett followed his change of topic and looked towards the emptying lawn, nodding gently.
And when the lawn finally cleared out, they walked hand in hand towards the trailers, and Charlie glanced up towards the black tar pit sky and questioned himself as to why he was terrible with words. But when he saw her twirl away from him laughing, her hair flying in the gentle breeze and her pale pink skirt fluttering about, he realized why it was so difficult to utter the three words he longed to say. He wasn't the poet, she was, and he's been nothing but poetry all along.
***
They had gone to bed, waking up together to a wet, rainy day, a sharp contrast to the colorful, sunny day before. The hard rain from outside made a racket against the sides of the caravan. Irene was no where to be seen in their room. The woman had long became accustomed to him being around and had finally stopped making fun of them for it. It didn't mean that she enjoyed it though. She would often not be around when Charlie stayed over; she had always hated seeing romance.
The day went on even drearier when they were all assigned to clean up the shenanigans from the day before and pack everything to leave the town. It was a gray day, with stormy clouds covering the sky, giving everything a boring, plain look. What was worse was that they had to work outside in the pelting rain, that soaked everything and anything that walked in it. But wearing yellow rainboots that squeaked with every step and an equally bright yellow raincoat from Nia made it all worth it for Scarlett. Charlie said she looked like a highlighter but she didn't care, she just made fun of him and how he looked like he was attending a funeral with his black jacket and boots.
"I hate this type of weather; it's so depressing," Charlie stated as they sloshed through the mud to carry boxes of foods from the vendors and the prizes from the concession stands to their respective trucks.
"Really?" She asked. She looked up at the black clouds, her eyes shined as she stretched her tongue to catch the falling tears of the bleak day, "I actually like it."
"Why?" he questioned, laughing at how she cringed when a raindrop fell into her eye.
"Because it makes me feel cozy. Like I should be inside watching a movie or something. Reminds me of my home." Her voice didn't sound sad or nostalgic, but Charlie still felt like she didn't truly want to be there with him. He didn't blame her. It only worried him.
With a sort of horror to it, Charlie began to realize that she wouldn't really care if he wasn't there. His existence didn't really help nor hurt her, it didn't matter. Her existence though was practically everything to him. If she left back to where she came from, he didn't exist. She had so much incredible power over him, and he felt the overwhelming need to let her know that before she could destroy him, so she knew she could and so that she would spare him of feeling like that. He really didn't need that.
But he never really got the chance to do it properly, because the events that followed weren't really in his control.
"You don't look too cozy," Charlie pointed out, cutting his eyes to her shivering frame, contradicting her with how she said rain made her feel cozy. The cold rain was still pouring down and the raincoat didn't offer much protection to the girl. The rain hit in waves of icy pellets, sending a frosty chill over their bodies. For such a petite person like her, Scarlett was not handling it that smoothly as her hands shook while hauling the boxes of stuff. He was also a little jittery. "You should go inside, I'll finish this up."
"No I'm perfectly fine out here, with you."
"Scarlett, you're gonna get a cold, go inside," he sighed. Her nose and cheeks were beginning to redden and he couldn't help but think that it was adorable.
"You're just trying to get rid of me," Scarlett said jokingly. She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him.
"How did you know?" he asked flatly, his voice honeyed in sarcasm. They made it to the vendors' trucks and started to stack the boxes of food into them, their hands already numb.
"I wouldn't be a very good girlfriend if I left you here all alone, now would I?"
"I wouldn't be a good boyfriend if I let you, so leave."
Scarlett laughed, "I'll pass," and grabbed his hand, warming her small frigid fingers instantly, as they plodded back to the rest of the various things to pack away.
"Did you know it's been seven months since we started dating? I've known you for more than half a year!!" she exclaimed, swinging their hands back and forth. She didn't even seem disturbed by the fact that she had been away from her family, her home, for that long.
It only made Charlie more restless. Unspoken words. Thoughts. She had to know before...she awoke. Before she knew and realized and got tired of being there with him. Before she would leave and never look back. Before he would die.
"Yeah about that," he took a hesitant deep breath, tightening his fist in preparation. It was amusing how such a small and delicate person like her could scare him this much.
She stopped abruptly at the serious words, swiveling to look up at him. Her eyes were a sea of green worry. Charlie didn't quite like how they stopped walking as it made it all the more intimidating for him to tell her, but he felt that his confession needed it. "I've been thinking," he continued, rubbing the back of his head, not looking at her intense gaze, "and I don't know how to say it but-"
Her heart halted, seemingly frozen and suspended limply in her ribcage. She never knew her whole body could buzz and vibrate like how it was doing at that moment, or how her face could become so pale yet so warm and her fists become so clenched that she felt them cracking. Was he breaking up with her!? In all the movies and shows she had ever watched, that was always what they said when they were about you. Charlie couldn't, could he? Would he? Everything had been great, amazing even; did she do something wrong? She had never actually experienced a breakup nor did she know how to avoid one. And to think of them separating, where they couldn't be him and her, was something out of a nightmare. So, she did the first thing that her fleeting mind came up.
Scarlett broke him off with a sharp cry. "Those words about to leave your mouth scare the hell out of me." And she spun around and ran from his sight, her boots splashing in puddles. Scarlett couldn't help but be amused at how in order for her to avoid a breakup, she ran away from it; it was comically pathetic.
One second she was there and the next...not.
Charlie had not even had the chance to say the words. He could've at least gotten that far. But no, she somehow knew he was going to tell her he loved her, almost like she read his mind. She knew. Something spooked her and she was gone.
A broken heart was like a broken rib to him. He couldn't see it, but he felt it every time he breathed. She was breaking his heart and yet he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How could she not have seen? That he fell for her completely? Everyone knew it except her. How pitiful. He knew he was falling, and boy he fell hard. Even with the pain she inflicted on his heart, he loved her. She was his God.
So he kind of just continued to stand there. His boots continued to sink in the watery mud, the rain continued to chill him to his brittle bones, and his hands continued to clench and unclench into iron fists. He stood and waited. Almost like she would come back out and reciprocate his love or at least give him a chance to finish his sentence. But she didn't and he was left there alone, the world eerily void of any people passing by, not bothering to continue working with the boxes. Until eventually the cold became too strong, biting at his skin raw, and he was forced to go to his caravan. He wished he forced himself to stay out there for another hour, his only hope would be that he would eventually become stiff with the cold and die.
While he was left there, Scarlett was left reflecting back on what she did, biting her fingernails down to the pulp. Her eyes trailed every single surface of Irene and her's room while she paced up-and-down, up-and-down, her mind clustered with conflicting thoughts. She was embarrassed with how irrationally she had acted out in. She was being a little girl. She wasn't that anymore. She had grown into a woman, and perhaps that was what the freak show was good for, she would've never done it back at home. This was the real world. She shouldn't ruin her relationship over a couple measly uttered words. He probably wasn't even breaking up with her in the first place. She didn't let him finish; he could've been saying something completely different. She should give him a chance to finish instead. And if he did say to break up...well, she guessed home was where she belonged, not with some boy.
And the next thing she knew, she was standing outside his caravan's front door, knocking a firm sound against the wood. He opened it, his face showing a mix of confusion and happiness by the slight upturning of his dimpled cheeks. She was relieved to know that he didn't hate her yet.
She shot out her hand instinctively, her heart controlling all of her actions, and pulled his wrist so he was standing in the rain with her. She didn't think, she just did. Her lips then were against his and slowly her hands found their way into his dark hair. She could feel the uncertainty behind the kiss, but she didn't stop. She poured everything into it.
When she pulled back, she looked at him and said, surprised that she kept her voice still, "Your favorite way to be kissed is in the rain, you know the direction you're traveling in at all times, you whistle amazingly, you write with your left hand but do everything with your right. You hate the color yellow but love grey and veins disgust you. You're still on my mind and I don't think that's going to change for a long time."
Then with pleading and watchful eyes, she looked at him. "I really hope you weren't about to break up with me back there."
His mouth turned up even more, "Why would I ever?" His eyes answering her before his mouth was on hers again. To be relieved was an understatement for how he was feeling. Out of everything she could've thought when he was going to tell her, she thought he was going to be breakup with her. The irony made him laughed out loud even. He was thankful though for her oblivious and sometimes naïve perspective. It gave him another chance. This time he wasn't going to screw it up, and would wait to tell her when he knew for certainty she wouldn't be scared. Or wait at least until he couldn't handle the weight of the confession on his shoulders and it caused him agonizing pain to wait any longer.
As if noticing the rain pouring down on them suddenly, Charlie squinted up into the sky and grabbed her hand, dragging her into his caravan so they were sheltered. Wringing the water out of her hair, both of them rubbing their boots on the welcome mat, Scarlett turned towards him. She felt the need to explain herself. She must've looked like an obsessed child, running away from him like that when she thought he was going to end it.
"Don't get me wrong, I know I looked pretty stupid running away from what I thought was our breakup. I just don't want it to end, and please don't think I'm crazy," she said, "I'm not saying I'm totally dependent on you either, you know. I'm not saying that every breath I take in your presence makes me feel alive again. I'm not saying that."
Her smile faltering, "But when I'm with you, the world feels just a little bit warmer. That's all." And that was exactly what Charlie dreaded to hear. It was like an answer to his thoughts; of course she wasn't dependent on him. Not like how he was to her.
Scarlett came closer and stretched her hands out to peel away his leather jacket, discarding it next to the yellow raincoat she shrugged off. Grabbing the collar of his black shirt, she dragged him down into a deep kiss as if to prove a point that was already made. "I'm sorry I freaked out, I'm too emotional," she whispered breathlessly when they broke apart for air, her eyes dancing across his face. "Honestly, I don't know how you deal with me."
"I don't care about that," Charlie said, he brought her against him, bringing her mouth to his again.
"Do you even know?" he drew back for an instant, his eyebrows knitted together,
"Do you know what it's like around you? I can't-" he ran a hand through his hair and started again, "I can't breathe whenever you're around." It was the closest he could get to saying it. And she didn't seem to mind. With one white beam at him, Scarlett crashed her mouth against him, feeling as if it was their first kiss or their last kiss. Heat. Vibrant colors. Usually what happened under her eyelids when they kissed. Their mouths swallowing and devouring, intensity and fire. Their makeout sessions happened often, but this one was different. Somehow in someway. Intensity and passion was always there but this time there was something that hadn't been acknowledged. Tongues exploring each others mouths and heavy breathing, tentative but at the same time confident.
"I can't breathe whenever you are with me too," Scarlett admitted, biting his lip between her teeth. She took a deep breath that sounded like she was gasping, and Charlie kissed tenderly around her jaw, causing her to giggle, "Stop it." But she always liked when he did that, especially when he kissed her neck, she was ticklish there and when he would hit the right spot, she was like puddy in his hands.
Sucking hard on her neck, he felt her hands start to grasp around his shoulders and one threaded in his hair. His laugh vibrated in her neck, but he didn't stop. He only stopped, stiffening uncomfortably, when she said something that made him start to tick. "Charlie, I want to."
Drawing his head back, his brown eyes were wide, eyeing her up and down. No, not yet. He knew what she wanted. What she had asked months ago when she was horny as fuck and made it her job to make him stand the test of time and have to turn her down like that; he went to bed with blue balls. It wasn't like he didn't want to but for the first time he was kind of scared of having sex. In case he hurt her. Physically or emotionally, either one. Scarlett was such a fragile being. Nevertheless, Charlie asked her in the most clueless voice he could muster, "Want what?"
Scarlett gave him a flat look, but he saw her green eyes darkening, and it made him want to do some things like- "Really? You know what," she said in an equally flat voice, her voice low.
Raising an eyebrow, he scowled. "So you want this?" Abruptly tearing his large hand from her hip, he pressed it into her crotch, his fingers putting pressure into the one area she needed it most. Scarlett was surprised at the inhumane noise that came out of her mouth. She had moaned, losing her sense of innocence. She was even more surprised on how much she needed him to relieve the tension and the clenching in her lower region. Him. His hand, barely touching her, sent waves of need through her. She didn't even care. She wasn't that church girl Alex and Felicity thought she was; no, she was Scarlett.
"I won't regret it," she moaned, causing his jaw to clench and she knew she was going to get her wish this time because she saw the blackness in his eyes swallow the brown and felt him press against her, his will withering away slowly. "Please. Never regret anything because at one point, it was exactly what you wanted. I want you."
And he guessed hearing those words was what he needed for him to come to a resolve. He was probably going to hate himself later for it as usual, but he acted.
"Fine." Scarlett could care less that his voice was clipped when he said it. He was only frustruated with how he couldn't convince himself to walk away from her. It was empowering.
Moving his rough hands down the curves of her body, one slid into her jeans, finding her underwear. It was exactly what she wanted. She ached for it. She sent her mouth hard onto his, moaning into it as she felt him touch her through her panties. She should've been embarrassed with her arousal and how wet she probably was, but she didn't. He bit her earlobe, making her even louder. His touches were angry, rough, frustruated with her willingness to do this, but they eventually slowed down into a tender speed when she took off his shirt.
His hand kept moving despite his whole body freezing up at the cold air hitting his bare skin. She could tell he was ashamed of all the fight scars marring his skin and the dark marks on his back still evident from when Axel hit him with a belt at a young age. Her eyes were glued to his body, not in disgust, but in awe. Even with the mutilations to his skin, his body was beautiful. Hard planes of stone and muscle. Charlie must've thought her staring was for opposite reasons and he took his hand away from her pants and went to get the shirt off the floor, wordlessly.
"No, don't," she stopped him quickly. Bringing her fingers out to touch them and feel the skin rise from under her fingertips, Scarlett was transfixed on making him better. He watched with a strange confusion as she kissed all of them, she would never finish due to the sheer amount, but he felt overwhelmed by her. Overwhelmingly in love with her.
Charlie, with one gentle hand on her cheek, brought her head up and kissed her. Passion tasted like fire she found. And soon they fell on the bed in a tangled mess of wandering limbs, their lips never leaving each other. She felt significantly much more clothed than him and decided to start to shrug off her shirt, her breathing collected in her chest hesitantly. When her shirt fell away and her chest was exposed, covered by her bra but still the most unprotected she had ever been to anyone in her life, Scarlett instantly felt insecure and tried to cover it back up. "No don't you dare," he grabbed her hands, with gentleness despite the thirst in all his kisses. "You're beautiful." She didn't really believe his words but the way his eyes traveled every part of her silky skin, hungry, made her want to. She was probably doing the same to him.
Tentative, Scarlett lowered herself so she was laying on the bed and he was above her, staring at her in a daze. It wasn't a dream though. No going back now. She found she didn't want to go back anyways. Charlie brought his mouth down to her neck and collarbone again; Scarlett promptly relaxing with his touch and moaning, a pink flush covering her cheeks, when he bite her earlobe. This time he didn't need to persuade her to be comfortable with her body, she released her grip on his shoulders to reach behind her and unclasp her bra. Tearing it away from her, Scarlett flung it away and willfully kept her hands above her, as if she was giving him permission to explore her further. A pale gift of beauty.
Feeling his hands palm her breasts, like they did those months ago when she wanted to do this, made her feel like she actually was in a dream, or she was hallucinating. She felt feverish. For having been kept celibate for months, Charlie was handeling it pretty well but she knew he wanted more. He cupped her breasts harder, enclosing it within his palm, feeling the frisson of her hardened, pink nipples in the center of his hand. Her thoughts feld from focus, images driven to warmth and lust.
It was much, much better than that night. This time, he actually wanted to touch her, rubbing and pulling at her nipples. Scarlett made a loud sound again, ripped from the depths of her lungs, and her hand left his arm from where she dug her nails into and went right to his crotch. She acted on instinct; it was too much for her. Heat and sweat and energy, crackling. She stroked and grabbed at him through his jeans, feeling the immense size, but she was not scared. Charlie, on the other hand, thought the pressure and the rough material was a special kind of agony against him.
Scarlett pulled at his jeans but seemed unable to comprehend how to free him from them. Her motions became more frenzied and she made louder frustruated, breathy noises. Charlie's hands eventually stilled, causing her to whine, only to reach down and undo them for her, and he found that the air of the room felt too cold for the hot skin of his body and his cock.
She was in some sort of trance as he watched her eyelids fluttering at him and the way her lips parted to take a shaky breath of hot air, but then no, he realized she was only in lust, not in love. He didn't want to think of her as using him; he wanted this as much as she did. It was fine. All thoughts of it disappeared when he felt her small, smooth hands wrap around his member. She had never seen one or touched one, but yet here she was doing it like she did it all the time. Was he supposed to feel honored? Being her first though, he did.
Struggling out of her high-waisted shorts, Scarlett kicked them off her feet, bearing herself to him in only thin, pink underwear. His large hands touched the sides of them gingerly, twitching. He looked up at her to find her already staring at him. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice coarse, his whole expression leaking fear. She should be the scared one. But she wasn't. Her green eyes, his reflection gaping back at him in the ocean of jade, told him everything he needed to know. She nevertheless nodded and brought her hands up to rest at the nape of his neck, urging him on. She was ready, vulnerable, and completely comfortable with him; who else would she allow to do this to her?
Charlie swallowed down his desire and with calculated movements, guided the underwear down her hips and away from her. "Don't you need a..." Scarlett stopped him for a moment, grabbing his scarred hand. The action nearly made his heart stop, thinking she was backing out because this time he didn't know if he had it in him to repeat the night with an aching hard on. But he slowly grasped her words and with a sort of horror to it, realized he almost continued on without a condom.
Quickly reaching into the nightstand, shuffling around for a moment and retrieving the small packet, he tore it open with his teeth and rolled it on.
"Tell me if it hurts," was all he said as he took a hold of his cock. Scarlett only watched in fascination at the sheer beauty of him and his body as he guided himself into her. She knew to brace herself before, shutting her eyes tightly and clinging to his shoulders.
He pushed against her and she cried out at the touch, her nerves singing, rushing blood. And pain. Flashing red colors tinged the sides of her tunnel of vision, and blinding white light made it nearly impossible to see. That was inevitable at how much of a virgin she was and how large he was. Eventually the pain faded, and their was only an uncomfortable pressure. Was this what it was? Scarlett felt disappointed, what a large lead up to something this painful.
But when Charlie slid into her more, inching forward to allow her walls to stretch and accommodate his size, it seemed like the most pure sensation of her life. Her thoughts were silenced in a cresting wave of pleasure, rising like a tide and touching every nerve ending through her. She enveloped him, burying him in her fevered flesh, searing impossibly hot against him. Her nails dug deeper into his bare shoulders and her back arched as he pushed inside her, and soon she was moving her hips forward for more friction.
He opened his eyes and saw that she was watching him, her mouth open and her eyes half closed in bliss and lust. Her body in that light was beautiful beyond perfection. He let his gaze explore her, watching her hook her legs around him, how deep he was buried within her. He was going to ask if she was okay before he would continue but she spoke up.
"I didn't know," Scarlett tried to get out between her breaths, digging her heels into his bottom so he was forced to move forward in her, "that this actually felt this good."
"Well I haven't even started," he gritted out. With that, he sent his mouth crashing onto hers, fierce and full of anger for release. She felt him pull out, her pussy clenching on nothing, then he thrusted back in and she cried out. His mouth was everywhere, her neck, her collarbone, her own lips; he found that she especially liked when he went down on her needy breasts.
Out and in. A pattern had started, slow at first but with each beat the tempo got quicker and full of life. "This. Is. So. Good."
Charlie would've laughed if he wasn't bringing one of her nipples into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue. That moment of primal passion was all her mind knew; she didn't really know if she heard what he said right between his grunts and growling, which made her even wetter and tighten more around his cock. "If you ever leave me, I think I'll ache forever."
That in itself made her release a lengthy moan, knowing she had that much power to end a man such as him. She didn't feed off of it, but she liked it.
Charlie released her nipple with a pop, eyes snapping open. "Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit," he rasped.
His body covered hers, and he was thrusting, hard and fast, practically jackhammering her until her ass was imprinted in the sheets. He went so deep, so deep that she cried out, "Oh god, Charlie, oh god." He only gripped the back of her legs around him tighter. He could feel every second difference of pressure inside her, slick and muscular and heated with fire. It was the closest thing he could get to heaven, being inside her.
"Don't destroy me," his voice cracked, and his English bled into another tongue. She realized German. She didn't laugh at it this time. It made her writh against him. Her nails dug into his skin harder. Their movements increased even more. The bed began to jerk.
Then suddenly, her senses were blocked in a sizzling white noise. A purity of pleasure and nothingness. Throwing her head back, yelping from the back of her throat, she buried her face into his neck. Her hips came clamping down on him and he felt his own cry echoing hers involuntarily, coming down hard inside her.
Both collapsing down, slick in sweat, the heavy smell of sex in the air, Charlie placed a gentle, breathy kiss on her forehead and rolled off of Scarlett. She felt like whining when he withdrew from her, suddenly feeling so empty. He rolled off the used condom and got up to throw it out, returning to lay next to her exhausted position on the bed.
Wordlessly, Scarlett scooted closer to him so her head rested on his chest, with each breath she felt the muscles expand and contract. She closed her eyes when she heard the beating of his heart within the cave of his ribcage, like a lively blood drum. She felt his brown eyes on her but she didn't shy away. He saw every part of her now, the good and the bad; and she couldn't be more happy, especially with what he just delivered to her. "I'm afraid," he suddenly spoke up.
Scarlett brought her head up, her blonde hair stuck to her skin with sweat, "Why?"
"Because I'm so profoundly hapy. Happiness like this is frightening." Scarlett didn't know whether to be joyful or scared about Charlie actually saying he was happy. That was once in a blue moon.
"Why?" it seemed like that was all she could respond with.
"They only let you be this happy if they're preparing to take something from you." And Scarlett couldn't help but agree.
So there they were, laying on the bed, and Charlie realized he was essentially holding his entire world in his arms. There were city lights twinkling in her eyes, oceans in her bones, thunderstorms rumbling in her heart, wildflower fields in her blood, forests in her hair, and vast deserts on her skin. She was his world. She was his everything. Du bist mein ein und alles.
***
Scarlett wasn't prepared for the morning after part. Charlie had turned her into a needy sexual creature because the rest of the day was spent with round twos and fours; the couple couldn't be sated for long. He had afterall introduced her to this whole new world, whether it would be for the better. She had been missing out on it when most teenagers her age had already become sexually active. For gods sake, she hadn't even had her first kiss before him!
Eventually, she managed to tear herself away from the bed and put on clothes before Gertrude could walk through the door of his room. She couldn't, however, tear herself away from him as she stayed with him that night.
So the following morning was when the fun began. With love bites covering her thin, slender neck and scratches littering his arms, it was interesting to see how they could hide their indiscretions. Luckily, Irene's heavy-duty foundation managed to pull through and Charlie easily pulled on a long-sleeved shirt. To Scarlett, she actually kind of liked the hickies; she would touch it softly in the privacy of her bathroom and smile, it was like a display of possessiveness.
Scarlett was also never one for acting...or lying for that matter, always flustering under her pressure. But this time, she managed to play it off cool as if nothing at all happened, especially considering how Nia always watched like a hawk. Even during breakfast when the two entered hand-in-hand.
"Hey Scarlett, Charlie," Nia greeted them, smiling up from her cup of coffee. Nina waved at the two, nearly spilling her milk carton. Scarlett grinned and waved back, Charlie nodding to them in acknowledgement.
Sitting across from them, Scarlett waited for Minerva to bring out the breakfast and didn't even feel scared as Alex looked at them suspiciously. Alex was always teasing them, it was normal, and Scarlett didn't let it get to her.
"Scarlett you look especially glowing today. Must've had a great night yesterday."
"Thank you for noticing. I slept for ten hours, good nights sleep for me." Her smile at the woman grew even larger as she saw Charlie stare at her with wide eyes, surprised that she managed to pull it off convincingly.
Scarlett's glow didn't last long though. Because her eyes quickly became distracted by a particular face. Her focus honed in on the back of the milk carton Nina was holding up to her lips. The missing persons' picture they always have posted on the small cartons. This one was new though. A new face yet she knew it. Her brain tried to register the familiar person, recognizing them piece by piece. It took a while but...
The blonde hair. The hazel eyes. The stupid, boyish smirk. Noah.
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A/N: TO SEE CHAPTER 14 IT IS ON PRIVATE YOU MUST BE FOLLOWING ME (stupid wattpad changed it)
I'm not even going to say sorry for this chapter.
THIS IS WHEN THE REAL FUN BEGINS PEOPLE. and it becomes more and more explicit each chapter just saying and im not even talking sex wise im talking violence wise.
btw i saw star wars and it destroyed me. i love the series so much. han solo is my favorite character and always will be forever and ever, harrison ford call me up daddy i dont even care if we are 50 something years apart, you+me=forever baby
ok im done with that. dun dun dun. yes archer is schizophrenic, as we know more about our characters, you'll realize that each one of them has something wrong with them. i base all of them on disorders (dont ask me why). i researched schizophrenia a bit and im sorry if i dont know that much about it though, but i do know that they talk to themselves, basically delusional, hearing voices in their head. And the poem charlie wrote is actually another person's poem that i saw on instagram so I don't take credit for that it was just too cute not to include :)