Another World

Chapter 11

Thranduil stared up at the ceiling of his room (though he could not think of it as such), sleep being stubbornly elusive as ever. His thoughts were on a continuous cycle of what had transpired earlier; from Eric and the threat he posed, to Charlotte and her very real fear of this despicable man. His fists involuntarily clenched at his side, causing Thranduil to frown. Why did it bother him in such a way? After all, Charlotte should mean nothing to him...But he knew that was not entirely true, either. In a short span of time he had come care for her. Though, in what manner he was not willing to admit to.

After an hour of shifting and wiggling, trying to find a comfortable spot, he let out a heavy and defeated sigh and decided to go drink the last of the rancid wine instead. He was really starting to miss the finer comforts of his home. He threw back the covers and pulled on the pajama pants and top he had worn his first night here. His eyes wandered to the vulgar elf pajamas folded neatly on his dresser and shook his head. If Charlotte thought he was ever going to wear that, she had another thing coming!

He made his way to the kitchen, a dark scowl painted on his perfect porcelain features. He was feeling agitated and a dark mood enveloped him. He half-heartedly wished Eric were here so that he could pummel the retched man. It wouldn't solve anything, but it certainly would make him feel better.

He flicked on the light and made his way to the fridge.

"Couldn't sleep, either?"

Thranduil whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise. It was not every day he was caught off guard, especially by a mere little human girl. Woman, he corrected himself.

Charlotte was seated at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and staring at him pointedly.

"No, and it would seem that you could not either."

Charlotte shook her head, her rumpled hair swaying with the motion. "Nope. Too much on my mind for sleep."

Thranduil nodded and turned to retrieve the bottle of wine. Charlotte watched with hypnotic fascination as his shirt stretch taut against his lithe muscles as Thranduil opened the cupboard above his head and reached up for a wine glass. Her eyes wandered lower and she blushed when she realised how low the pajama bottoms were riding on his narrow hips. She quickly averted her eyes and took a sip from her tea.

"I see you're still refusing to wear the pajamas."

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. "Be thankful I haven't made good on my promise, Charlotte."

His smirk widened when he noted the delicious blush deepening on those pale cheeks. Serves her right!

Thranduil bought his now full glass over to the table and seated himself opposite her with liquid ease, his unblinking gaze studying her. "I take it that our little problem with Eric has kept you up?"

Charlotte finally met his gaze. "It's not a little problem, Thranduil. Eric can, and will, cause a lot of trouble if he finds out about you and who you really are. But..."

Thranduil raised a perfectly shaped brow at her dramatic pause.

"He is no fool either. Eric will do things by the book so that it doesn't come back to bite him on the ass. Right now, he has absolutely no idea who you are. This will give us some time to prepare."

"How much time?"

Charlotte chewed on the inside of her cheek. "He will start by trying to dig up any information on you. When he can't find anything, he will have to request to put surveillance on my house. He will need a good excuse for his bosses, and it will have to go through all the right channels. My guess..." Charlotte paused and sighed. "Two months, tops."