Chapter Seventeen: The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo, Part One

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Yep, just going to pick up from here like normal.  Totally didn't take a four-month hiatus or anything.

Anyway, here's when the Charlie x Reader part comes in.  Enjoy!

– Amelia

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You don't know how it got stuck in your head, but you have been humming a catchy Katrina & the Waves song since you woke up.  Not even the sharp whistle from the red tea kettle on the stove interrupts the soft, slightly off-key melody.

Instead, you tip the spout of the kettle into the plastic Star Wars-themed thermos, into which you drop a green tea bag and screw on the cover, sliding it across the counter where it rests near a brown paper bag before pouring yourself a mug of the steaming water.

Not even the shuffling of sock-covered feet on the wooden floor stops your humming or the drumming of your fingers on the counter to the imaginary beat.  If anything, the volume increases as the steps get closer and closer.

"Who-o-oah!" a beautiful, similarly off-key voice sings when you reach the respective verse of the song, biting your lip as the smile you hadn't realized had been playing on your lips widens.

Your back straightens when you feel hands sliding onto your hips and across your stomach.  "Mmm," you let out between your teeth releasing your bottom lip.  "'Morning."

"You're up early," she says.  "Thought you were off this morning."

Without warning, or much thought, you whip around to face her in what you hope will be a fluid, sexy movement, only to have the full length of your hair lash across her face.  You are the first to let out a snort in an attempt to cover up a hysterical, uncontrollable laugh as you gasp out an apology, eventually giving up and letting your forehead fall onto her shoulder, which also shakes with laughter.

"Well, that's what I get for trying to be intimate," she pants between giggles as they finally settle and you are left staring in admiration of the beauty of her smile, the sparkle of her green eyes, the tinkling sound of her laugh.

When you first met Charlie, you were living in the cheapest, crappiest motel in town and bussing tables in the bar down the street for minimum wage.  You could never feel completely clean, and the looks you got from your coworkers were so full of pity that it made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't bring yourself to let it deter you.  Anything was better than...

You hand her the paper bag and the thermos, earning you a quick "thank you" kiss on the cheek.

"Don't work too hard," you call, placing a tea bag into your own mug.

She slides her arms into the sleeves of her blue jacket and places her headphones over her ears.  "See ya."

You knew you loved her the moment you saw her.  She was a cute, quirky mystery, the love of your life, even before you got up the courage to talk to her.  You have never felt uneasy not knowing anything about her history, and she never asked about yours, much to your relief.  You could hide the nightmares – you don't toss or turn or cry out.  You just lay there, paralyzed with the fear that you never escaped, eyes closed as if that could keep it from being true.  But if you could feel her there, next to you, it would be okay.  It was enough.

As soon as you hear her yellow moped flying down the street, you take your tea cup to the coffee table, open up your laptop and your notebook, and begin working.

For weeks, you have been scouring the internet for updates on where the leviathans have been and everything they have been doing, trying to prove a theory that would link everything together – that Richard Roman is their leader.  If you can connect him to all of the drugged fast food consumers that seemed to be eaten and replaced by the shapeshifters, it would all make sense.  If you can figure out how he has been managing to take away the senses and reflexes of everyone in the country, you could figure out how to take him down.

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