No Heroes, No Villains

Chapter 6

"Well?"

The words escape as a mere squeak. A smirk played coyly on his lips, while blood flushed to my cheeks. Grabbing the shower curtain quickly, I wrapped the fabric protectively around myself. He cleared his throat, moving his head up and to the right as if to give me some privacy. His clothing was the same as the last time I saw him. A small laugh fills the space between us as his hand rests on the back of his neck.

"I'm really sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay?" His answer came as more of a question. Groaning loudly, I close the curtain and hide. The hot water pounds rhythmically against my skin, scolding the bare area with each drop. The steam rising from the stream is calming, easily taking the edge away. Slinking slowly down the shower wall, I end up sitting crossed legged in the bottom of the tub. The shadowy figure had changed it's position, standing there now awkwardly with arms crossed. Slowly, I start banging my head against the wall, hoping if I do it enough it'll knock me out.

"Charlotte?"

"Huuuu- It's Charlie... I told you this. What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"I told you, I-"

"Wanted to make sure you were okay? Save it 'Bring it On'. Breaking and entering isn't the way to do it dude. Could've like, oh I don't know, knocked on the door like a sane person."

The remark was met with a door closing which gave me time to quickly finishing bathing. Well he's not here to hurt me, at least I don't think so. If he was here to hurt me, me being defenseless in the shower was his best opportunity. With a quick rinse of the foamy soap, I shut the tap off and brace myself for the cool air. Ripping the shower curtain open quickly, I reach for the nearest towel and wrap it securely about my form. Stepping slowly over the tub, a thousand different scenarios occur in my head. This could be it Charlie, this could be the day that we die. We lived a decent life, though you've been on a dry streak lately... Maybe he'll buy you dinner before he kills us.

Slipping quietly through the door, the patter of wet feet on the hardwood floor captures the masked vigilante's attention. Red was positioned casually against the far window, comfortably peering out the closed blinds. As soon as my foot fall began, his head snapped in my direction. Hanging my head low, my feet shuffle towards the door to the left. The door shuts quietly as I make my way to the closest pieces of clothing. Grabbing a black tank top and a pair of fleece bottoms, I force the fabric onto a still wet body. With my attire clinging in odd places, I wrap my hair up in the towel, grab the bat from earlier that day, and make my way back to the masked man.

"Okay Red, you see that I'm fine. What do you really want?"

My question finishes by the time I reach the opening. Red hasn't moved from his spot, though he had stopped looking out of the window. His body moves with ease while pushing himself from the slanted position. The scuffle of leather breaks the silence, and his attention is focused solely on me. My body feels hot and sweaty as he strides over with confidence, his left hand outstretched slightly. This is just like the fan-fiction we used to read in high school. His movements were slow and precise, using his right hand to remove one glove. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, until Daredevil was stood just mere inches away. He smelled of aged leather with just the smallest hint of cinnamon. Surprise struck my body as his left hand gently traced my cheek. The touch was cool and comforting, leaving a fiery trail in its place. His fingers did a ghostly dance along my cheekbone, sparking electricity with each movement. Without consent from my mind, my body had decided to lean in to the hand; grasping at the intimacy of the moment. Being so close to someone so dangerous made my skin crawl with temptation and fear. I was so engrossed in the moment when he moved his hand to my temple and I didn't notice, that is until a stinging pain followed.