Chapter 13: Everything Else I Can Give You

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Chapter 13: Everything Else I Can Give You

"Hey, princess," Charlie said softly and settled beside me on the couch. "How are you feeling?" He had just gotten back from work, several hours after Cristian informed me that I was on probation. He smelled of smoke and his arms had a thin layer of soot brushed over the sinewy surface.

"I'm fine," I answered, just as quietly. As if volume could break the barrier holding back the wave of emotion and grief that was building.

"You want something to drink?" he asked, brushing his fingers along my cheek gently, his eyes flickering between mine.

I shook my head and leaned back on the couch.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly, retracting his hand and watching me closely.

I shook my head again. "I just want to forget about it," I said and looked at the floor.

Charlie nodded and stood up from the couch with the beginning of a verbal admission of retirement.

"No," I said quickly and grabbed his wrist. "Stay with me."

"Of course," he said and took his place on the couch, scooting close to me. I tucked my head into his chest and inhaled deeply, detecting his familiar scent through the smoke. I closed my eyes as he wrapped his arms around me securely.

"You already know what happened," I said, the statement sounding like a question.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"Word travels fast, I guess," I said and pulled away slightly.

"It's an awful thing to have to go through," he said. His sympathy proved to be too much for me, his words hitting me like a brick, breaking down the dam in my head and allowing the emotion to rush away, the pressure of it building behind my eyes. Before tears could build, I pressed my lips against his firmly. He attempted to say something, but his utterance died, suffocated by my lips.

I pushed his chest so that he was reclined against the back of the couch and straddled his thighs, my lips still pressed against his. His hands then closed around my upper arms, pushing me back.

"Not like this," he said simply. "Not when you're hurting."

"I need you," I said- all but whined. "Please, Charlie. I need this."

The conflict in his eyes was perceptible, the weighing of what was right and what was easy.

"You're not in any state-"

"I need this, Charlie," I said and curled my fingers around his biceps, torn between distraction and confrontation. "I need..."

"Rest," he supplied, "and comfort, and everything else I can give you. But not a distraction."

His honey-colored eyes held a seriousness that they rarely did, grounding me. I nodded slowly and slid off of his lap. Charlie stood and lifted me from the couch. I wrapped my arms around him tightly as he carried me to the bedroom, letting my eyes fall shut as my legs wrapped loosely around his hips. Complete trust in his hold, in his judgment, in him.

"I have to take a shower," he said as he lowered me to the bed. "I smell like smoke."

"Can I come with you?" I asked. "I won't do anything," I clarified quickly. "I just feel... stuffy."

"Sure," he said and ruffled my hair. "I'll pick out some clothes if you want to start the shower up."

I nodded and went to the bathroom, turning the shower on and adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature. Charlie came into the bathroom soon after with a pile of clothes, setting them on the edge of the sink. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper in the corner of the room.

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