Charlotte Peters hasn't always been uncomfortable and fearful of men, but after a harsh past, she can't help it! Being kicked out of her house and with no where to go, she walks around at night, trying to avoid every man she goes by and try to find...
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~Charlotte's P.O.V.~
It was the sunshine the next morning that woke me up. It came through the big windows that were next to the bed. I let out a small sigh as I slowly opened my eyes, looking over the bed at the floor. I needed to go to the bathroom. I tried to sit up and get out of the bed, but that was a bit difficult because then I realized that there was something restraining me by the waist.
I looked down, trying to see where the weight was coming from. It was a very tattooed, very muscular arm. The arm was locked across my waist, keeping me in place. I was still a bit asleep, so I didn't have the ability to comprehend who the arm belonged to.
My eyes followed the arm, only to see it attached to the rest of Archer, who was still sleeping. I froze up as I stared at the shirtless man. What am I going to do? What if I moved and he got mad? I didn't want him to get mad.
Slowly, I laid back down so that I wouldn't wake him up. I was not going to be the one to make him mad, so because of this, I had to just ignore my fear. It was going to be my only way for survival at the moment. Once I laid back down, I felt his hold become tighter as he brought me closer to his body. My back was pressed against his chest. Even though I was scared, I couldn't help but find myself feeling oddly comfortable and warm, like I was meant to be here.
"Mmmm, Charlotte . . ." He mumbled. He was still asleep, at least, I think he was because his eyes were still closed.
I turned my head slightly so that I could get a better look at him. My heart was beating very fast because I knew that if Archer caught me staring, then he would get angry. When I lived with my father, I was never allowed to look at him unless I was told to.
Archer looked handsome and peaceful as he slept. I cringed, wanting to hit myself for having these thoughts. He could do anything to me and here I was thinking about his good looks. Now that I think of it, why was he in the same bed as me?
I couldn't take it anymore. I was scared, but I really needed to go to the bathroom. So, even with the chance of having some kind of punishment, I struggled to get out of his grip. It was strong, but not to the point where it had hurt. Well, not yet at lease. My hands grabbed onto his tattooed arms, as I tried to detach them from my waist. It took me a coulde minutes, but I was finally able to get out of the bed without waking Archer.
I ran over to the bathroom. I had shut the door and locked it, more for a feeling of safety, just in case Archer was to wake up.
After I had done what I needed to and finished washing my hands, I'd let out a shaky breath as I stared at myself in the mirror. What am I going to do? I've technically been kidnapped by this attractive man (which I have't thought about a man in a very long time). In reality, the whole family kind of kidnapped me because that girl named Summer was Archer's cousin.
I was brought out of my thoughts when I started hearing yelling coming from the room.
"Charlotte! Where are you?" Archer growled. Growled? That just made this situation even scarier than it already was.
Tears started to stream down my face as I let out a small squeak. I figured that he heard me because the next thing I knew, the bathroom door was being broken down. I screamed a little and fell to the floor, backing away from him as much as I could until my back hit the bathtub.
There at the entryway, stood Archer who was breathing really heavy as he stared at me. His eyes were moving around hectically. He was about to come closer until he took a good look at me. He saw the tears that were falling down my cheeks and my rigid breathing. For some reason, the sight of me seems to make him calm down and appeared to have a pained expression on his face.
He tried to walk closer to me, but that only caused me to let out another shriek, which made him stop moving. Instead of coming closer to me, he walked over to a wall that was across from me. My eyes followed him, nervously. I was trying to make sure that he didn't try to make any sudden moves to come near me. He had put his back against the wall and slid down it so that he was now sitting.
Once he was seated on the floor, he leaned his back against the wall. He bent one of his legs up and rested one of his elbows on his knee.
"I'm sorry." He apologized in a soft vice.
I didn't say anything. I honestly didn't think I could, I was just too scared. What if I said something wrong and it made him mad? And if he got mad, that would mean that there was a chance that I could get a punishment.
He sighed, "I really didn't mwan to scare you. I had just woken up and you weren't there in bed, so I thought something bad happened."
Yeah, like being kidnapped. I thought darkly. I never would be able to use any sarcasm in whatever I actually said. I would get into trouble.
I didn't say anything again. Maybe he'd forget this whole ordeal and leave me alone. Archer and I both just sat there on the floor across from each other. I looked everywhere except for him.
I heard a small thud and turned my head to look at what the sound was, only to see that it was Archer who was slightly hitting the back of his head on the wall.
"Damn it . . ." He muttered.
I'm not quite sure why, but I questioned him quietly, "What?"
He looked at me with wide eyes and signed, "For a moment, I started to think that you were warming up to me. Not a lot, but just enough to the point where you didn't scream or cry when I came near you, but I guess I just fucked that up."
Did he really hope that I was warming up to him? Was he that mad at himself for making me scared? What kind of kidnapper was this guy?
I bit my lip and took a deep, shaky breath, "I . . . I'm s-sorry. I don't m-mean to be scared."
He looked at me and shook his head, "Charlotte, you have nothing to be sorry for. I get it, I guess. I'm this scary guy who took you to my house after you passed out in the middle of the woods and now I won't let you go home. I would be scared of me too, but I can promise that I will explain everything soon."
He'll explain everything to me? Maybe I can try to be a little less scared. That might give me a chance to figure out what's really going on and then maybe I could get over my fear of men.
