Yours truly ; Charlie Weasley

Thirty-four

The next couple of days were weird — tense. Charlie and I hadn't talked much, and when we did, we'd bicker.

I was so tired. I just wanted to relax for once, take a nap without nightmares, seeing as they get stronger when I'm not well mentally. I wanted to be able to sleep peacefully, not wake up and crave alcohol every night.

We just came from an appointment with doctor Vixen and Charlie was going on and on about how much he doesn't like the sessions or doctor Vixen for that sake.

I wasn't really listening. I was tired, hadn't been sleeping well, hadn't eaten much because I didn't have an appetite due to the amount of nightmares I had experienced in the last couple of days, multiple times throughout the night.

I sat down on the sofa in the living room, leaned back with my eyes closed and my hands resting next to me, Charlie's voice ranting on in the background.

We had told doctor Vixen about our fighting. She told us we couldn't have anymore sex until we had figured this out — our relationship. And or course Charlie is mad about that even though he got mad at me for "using" him for sex.

"Ember!" Charlie snapped when he noticed I wasn't listening to him. I hummed in response. I felt so drained of energy. All I wanted to do was get some sleep but every time I had tried to go to bed for the night or take a nap after a long day of work, I'd just have a nightmare and it scared the living shit out of me. "Ember—"

"What?" I cut him off, looking at him. "Who's sending the mixed signals now? You were pissed at me for having sex with you but not trusting you when it was over... now you're pissed at doctor Vixen for saying no more sex."

"Well, it's not up to her!" He raised his voice, making me sigh as I looked into the fireplace. "Why should she get to tell us what we can or cannot do? It's sex for fuck sake."

I took a deep breath as I ran a hand over my face and into my hair.

"Yeah, and it's not like you'll survive not having sex until she clears us." I said, my voice full of sarcasm. "I'm gonna assume you didn't have sex for the six months where you lived in Romania."

I looked at him again. Charlie rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard where we usually stored alcohol, but he closed it when he realised there weren't any.

"Do you even want to move on?" He asked and looked at me. "Because you keep bringing it up. You know how terrible I feel about it."

"Can you please stop doing that?" I asked. "I have every right bringing it up."

I got up from the sofa and started walking into the kitchen. "Can't you see what's happening? This is starting to turn toxic."

Charlie scoffed as he found a glass and started filling it with water.

"I don't do toxic."

At the sound of my voice and the words that left my mouth, he turned around and leaned against the counter.

"So what? You're gonna give up, leave?"

Oh my god.

"Will you stop putting words in my mouth?" I asked. As I finished my sentence, I suddenly felt dizzy, and I quickly grabbed onto the table to lean against it. I closed my eyes and waited until the feeling was gone before I looked at Charlie again. "I want us to work out. I've known you for fifteen years and we've been together for eight of those. I love you with my entire heart and I will always be there to back you up so no— I am not going to just give up and leave. Plus, if anyone were to leave, it would be you, seeing as this is my loft that I paid for."