"You, you what?" You asked Charles, shakingly raising a brow at him for the statement. Have you heard him wrong?
"Geezus, I already fuckin' said it, and I'm not gonna go repeating it willy-nilly, kapeech? Comprendre?" Charles Lee spat at you, posture reserved and cold as ever.
"You... think I'm beautiful?"
Charles' eyes drowned in your own and tore away.
"I- yeah I mean..."
He couldn't manage to look at you, and it pained him. In a way that felt weak and helpless, something he hated. Hated. Hated. But with you? Maybe it was easier. Just for you though, none of those other cheap fuckers.
"I just don't understand Charles Lee." You interrupted him, forcing him to pause from his trance. "You don't make any sense to me."
He wanted to laugh. You to him? Please, it was easily the reverse.
"I don't make sense to myself either, doll face." He grinned at you, showing off his teeth slightly, and you felt yourself growing to like how it made you feel.
"I don't feel real, Charles." You admitted, a heavy weight pulling a boulder above your shoulders. It teetered back and forth.
"Y'don't feel real? Nothing feels real?" He was moving closer to you now, ignoring his coat stained with snow. Charles pulled you both on your couch.
"It's really scary, Charlie. Very." You sighed, pulled a quick hand to cover your mouth. He would've hated the nickname you had suddenly developed a fondness over, but it was all fruitless really. If you wanted to call him Charlie, sure, he would be the best goddamn Charlie around. To anyone else though, he was Chuck. Nothing else like yours.
Goddamn stricken.
Charles Lee pulled you into a hug and you clung like your life depended on it. You feared slightly that it did. If you let go, you'd be lost, away, alone. You wanted to feel and experience things for yourself in the world. The kiss he gave your forehead brought you back.
"You don't need to worry about all of that shit, doll face."
"I didn't think I'd be getting advice from a serial killer today." You muttered into his scratchy red scarf.
His laugh rumbled in his chest and you felt it, marveling at it slightly. You wanted to be closer, but he wore a thick winter jacket and several other things you couldn't bother to remember."Didn't think I'd be givin' it. What about me huh?" He frowned, playfully pulling your chin up. You rolled your eyes at him, slowly playing into the trap you knew he had set. Was it a trap when you knew what it was?
"Hm, what about you, Charles Lee Ray?"
Something about you using his full name sparked foolishness and suddenly all he could think about was how nice you could taste on his lips.
He was lost in your eyes and you his own. It was nice to just focus on him calling you beautiful, when your ex would sneer and torment you. Felt so strangely wrong. Why was he the one to be better than your ex? Charles Lee, the Lakeshore Strangler?
You could feel a knot in your throat, and he suddenly frowned, looking at you.
You managed a smile. Charles only frowned at you, and scoffed slightly. And so you finally with frustration and fear leaned in and kissed him. In your Chicago apartment in the middle of nowhere, gentle snow littering the landscape.
Chuck's convertible was stubbornly parked in the renter's area, which was for your car and the other tenants. But he was over enough that eventually no one paid much mind to the convertible.
You wanted to laugh at how he had left the top down, obviously having struggled with the damned thing and given up. But you were too focused on pulling his lips into your mouth to really pay attention to his car. Charles Lee tasted like cinnamon and cloves, and you happily divulged yourself.
Neither of you paid attention to the falling snow that night.
