This is just a character development playing on Thursday.
Charles had asked me to meet him at bar at Le Boisson for a drink. I hadn't seen him for a few days and avoided him on purpose because I didn't want to tell him about Louis. But I would have to talk to him one day and why not today?, I'd thought.
When I walked through the doors of the bar, I could easily spot Charles. He was propped on a bar stool, seemingly relaxed though his shoulders were slightly tensed. At the sound of my heels click-clacking on the floor, he turned around. The moment he saw me, a crooked smile started to linger on his lips.
"Bonsoir," I double kissed him on his cheeks.
"Pulling off the sexy secretary look?," he teased. "Are you even wearing anything under that trench?" His lips parted while he fumbled with the buttons to help me take the coat off. I couldn't help it, I just had to rest my hands on chest for a moment, playing with his collar. No matter what I'd done, he was still Charles in any way.
"I've got a surprise for you," he announced the second I sat down. He took something out of his jacket. It was a tiny boy with the signature Tiffany blue wrapped with a black bow.
"Aw, you shouldn't...," I started when he opened it. Inside, there was a delicate silver bracelet, the pendant a little key.
"I noticed that you were... unhappy and maybe this will help cheering you up," Charles said lightly, though his eyes were searching mine. He lifted the bracelet out of his box. "May I?"
I nodded and he grabbed my wrist to put his gift on it.
"It's so beautiful," I breathed close to tears. "I don't deserve it, not all." With a sigh, I finally added: "And I don't know what we have anymore."
His tension was plain visible now. He still held my wrist in his hands, his long fingers grasping around it. In a sudden movement, he squeezed it tightly which hurt more than I wanted to admit.
"What do you mean by that?," he inquired, his grip still hard.
"I mean that I love you, no matter how much it hurts," I answered looking down at his hands around my wrist. He noticed it and let go off it.
"I'm so scared," I sniffed, my voice cracking.
"Are you afraid of me?," Charles wanted to know. He'd turned a bit away from me and started to play with the glass standing in front of him.
"I... don't know it anymore. And that's what scares me most." I couldn't bare to look him, didn't want to see his anger, his rage spreading across his face.
"You're just as f-ucked up as I am," he responded, not able to see my nodding. "And that's why we belong to each other."
"Because to wrongs might make a right?," I laughed, not meaning it.
"Maybe. Look, I want to be a better person, especially around you. No matter what you say or think, you do deserve that. But I can feel that you're holding back something, something which would help me understand why you are the way you are. As long as you don't tell me, I'll always be on the border of hurting you."
"That sounds rather stranger," I admitted. "Though I get what you mean. You hurt me because you want me to be on the verge of telling you, of breaking apart and just wanting to get it out of my system."
He nodded. "I knew you'd get it."
"Just give me some time, okay? Don't make me unhappy anymore. Because if you do, I won't explode. I'll implode and that's not what you want, trust me." Charles took my hand and looked deep into my eyes. I know it sounds cheesy, but it felt like he could through them, right to the my soul.
"I'll be there."
Please type "scotch" if you read it all.
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