Light flooded through the large balcony window into their suite, bathing the furnishings in a warm golden glow, trying to give the day an appearance of carefree happiness. However the tension that polluted the air indoors spoke little of carefree happiness.
Charlotte teetered on the edge of the sofa, her knee bouncing with unrelenting irritation. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth until it began to pain her, a shadow of a bruise developing on its swollen form.
James paced back and forth, almost wearing the carpet away beneath his feet. His hair was becoming more and more dishevelled with each step and with each uncomfortable, angry movement of his restless hands.
"It was not that bad," Ramsey sighed, opening his hands before him and gazing at James. He was sitting in one of the armchairs watching them with an unreadable expression, while Fiennes stood leaning on the sideboard and Maxwell reclined on the sofa beside Charlotte.
"You told us that the world would not be willing to accept our alterations," James retorted, running his hands through his blonde hair again.
"They haven't a clue about your powers," Maxwell grunted. "We aren't that careless – what was said at the interview was all hearsay and conjecture".
"It was damn accurate conjecture," James snapped.
"Maxwell is right, James," Fiennes nodded. "The reporter who pushed those questions is notorious for conspiracy theories and..."
"Why on earth was he allowed question us then?" Charlotte asked, failing to keep the irritation and worry from her voice. She wasn't sure if she was more worried about what had transpired at the interview or by James' panic. He had been calm and reasonable up to this point, even when she had failed to see reason. Yet now it seemed as if his resolve had crumbled, making way for his stubborn anger once more.
"I..." Fiennes frowned. "He must have had an appropriate question, but changed it last minute?"
James started to laugh coldly, pressing his fingers against his eyes. "You don't even seem to know what happened, or how you let it happened," he said. "I thought you were supposed to be in control of this. How could you be so naïve to allow this to happen?"
"James, please. We have taken every measure to ensure your safety. It's just sometimes we overlook simple things," Fiennes sighed. "It won't happen again".
James laughed again. "You had better hope not," James growled. "If it does we won't cooperate anymore. We are not going to allow you make fools out of us, to make us into the enemy".
"I don't know why you are so worried about it," Ramsey exhaled. "To begin with they seem to be far more caught up by your relationship than anything else. Secondly, the reporter is a conspiracy theorist – nobody will take him seriously, or at least nobody who counts. And I think you are all forgetting the most obvious fact – reasonable people do not believe in inexplicable powers such as yours. They would invent every possible excuse before accepting such a far-fetched truth. This will die down soon, if it hasn't died down already," he dismissed, waving his hand.
"It only takes the smallest mistrust to create a far bigger problem. If they doubt we are what we are now, time will only feed that fear," Charlotte said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Miss Owens, you mustn't have such a negative outlook," Ramsey chided.
"It's the truth. I know how this works, Mr Ramsey. I just think it's very convenient that this reporter had access to police files and autopsy reports," she shrugged, watching him carefully. "I find it hard to believe they are that easy to come by".
"Yes, that I must agree with," Ramsey nodded. "It is very strange; stranger than I would be willing to admit to anybody else, but we are all friends here. I cannot deny I was alarmed when the questions were put to you, but you handled them with more grace and common-sense than I could have ever expected. This is not as big a deal as you think".
Charlotte gazed at him, watching his twitching lips, unable to read his expression, unable to know the true meaning of his words.
"So that's it – hope it blows over and that the world will be more interested in our love-lives than the alterations?" James asked, his tone rife with disgust. "Aren't you even trying to figure out where he got his information? What if he knows more? What if... Aren't you even trying to protect us?"
"We will protect you James – I give you my word," Fiennes pressed.
"No – I want to hear him say it," James snapped, jabbing his finger at Ramsey.
"James, don't," Charlotte warned, glancing up at him. James met her with anger green eyes, his worry and fear palpable.
"We will do everything in our power to keep you all safe James," Ramsey offered uncertainly, a nervous tone creeping into his voice. James' anger towards him had not gone unnoticed, and yet, despite his tone, Charlotte could still only see him as an empty shell, void of all emotion.
"This will be forgotten," Maxwell grumbled. "I mean there will be more focus on reuniting you with your families now. By tomorrow that will be the main story – any suspicions that you are freaks will have faded to the back of their minds".
"We're done here," Charlotte breathed, far from any mood to deal with Maxwell's jibes and jokes, if that's what they were supposed to be. "Fix this mess, before it gets out of control," she hissed, her tone final. Their so-called protectors glanced at each other before reluctantly moving towards the door.
"Right then," Fiennes exhaled, turning back to face them. "We will see you tomorrow".
"Tomorrow," Ramsey nodded. "Get some rest".
Charlotte watched them as the door clicked shut, leaving them alone at last. They had done little to ease either James or Charlotte's mind, and even seeing them made Charlotte sick with anger. Yet how ever she felt, James' anger seemed to be magnified far greater than hers.
She gazed at James as he stared out the window to the distant view along The Mall to Capitol Hill. He looked less like the boy she knew now and more like a shade of the past, a memory of the Head Boy she had struggled to tolerate. His straw-coloured hair was standing on end and even as she watched him, he ran his hands through it again. His jaw was gritted, the veins in his neck bulging, and his green eyes clouded. He almost seemed beyond her reach, too lost to his frustration to draw him back to her.
She stepped towards him, sliding her arms around him, trying to comfort him, protect him somehow from his own worries and fears, a concept she was not entirely adept at. He glanced down at her, his expression confused for a moment, as if he had overlooked her presence in the room, as if her embrace had been unexpected. His angry daze softened, a weary sadness taking its place.
"It will be okay," she breathed. "We can beat this". He seemed to deflate before her.
"If anything happens to you just because..." he trailed off, running his thumb along her jaw.
"Nothing will happen to me," she smiled, revelling in the dizziness she felt as his cool breath washed over her. "As long as we're together..."
He pressed his lips together as if he was trying to stop unwanted words escaping. His eyes clouded again, his forehead puckering. She knew what he wasn't allowing himself to say. They weren't going to be together.
He tightened his grip around her as if that would stop the inevitable, as if he was afraid to let go of her, as if he was afraid of what letting go of her would mean. He tilted her chin, his lips crushing against hers with a sudden greed. Charlotte knotted her fingers in his hair, pressing against him. She could sense the anger and fear in his embrace, the need and want to have her close as he almost lifted her from the ground. A small gasp escaped her lips, her stomach fluttering, as his mouth left hers, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck. She tilted her head more to the side allowing him to kiss the hollow of her neck.
Charlotte was breathless, her head swimming. He grazed his lips along her throat, his frantic movements become more controlled as he met her gaze. He paused his soft lips just brushing against hers, his pause creating more tension in their embrace. He slid his hand up, brushing the stray strands of hair, back from her face. Her head swam as his cool breath caressed her skin. His chest heaved as he drew breath. He swallowed, the muscles rippling in his jaw. His darkened green eyes fixed on her mouth, fixating on it.
Very slowly he moved again, this time his movements more measured, meaningful. He tilted his head, bringing his lips to hers once more, his nose brushing against hers. Charlotte's stomach clenched, her cheeks burning, the betraying flush creeping up her skin, as the kissed deepened, an unspoken urgency forming between them, a fearful longing. Their kiss drowned out all memories of the interview, all worries of what they were yet to face, wiping away her concerns regarding Ramsey and left only her thoughts of James; thoughts of his embrace and his lips and...
"Get a room you two," Ian spoke, startling Charlotte. James withdrew from her with a disapproving growl, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing erratic.
"We had one actually," James snarled, his arms slipping from Charlotte, leaving her feeling cold and confused.
Ian was sitting on the sofa, the door still in the process of swinging open, gazing at them with a gleeful expression.
"Couldn't you knock?" Charlotte hissed.
"I did – didn't you hear me?" he sighed rolling his eyes as Annakiya, Ethan and Carrie strolled in through the open door.
"You have to wait for people to answer," she hissed, picking a cushion off the sofa and throwing it at him. "How did you get the door open anyway?"
"Nabbed a key card from one of the hotel staff," he shrugged.
Charlotte huffed, but James walked over to the balcony window, watching the city beyond, a sullen mood descending over him once more.
"Are you feeling okay Charlotte?" Annakiya asked. "You look... flushed".
"I'm fine," Charlotte said through gritted teeth.
They watched her for a moment, Ian chuckling to himself.
"We saw the interview," Annakiya offered after a few awkward seconds. "You did really well". She sounded stilted, a nervousness to her tone, as she praised them.
"Thanks," Charlotte mumbled, automatically.
"You looked seriously cute," Ian said with a sardonic drawl. "Homely even".
Charlotte pressed her fingers against her eyes, but refused to respond. She wasn't in the mood for Ian's teasing now.
"It wasn't that bad," Annakiya nodded with a kind smile, picking up on Charlotte's mood.
"Yeah, you came across well," Carrie grunted. "If it hadn't been for the idiot at the end it would have been smooth sailing".
Charlotte nodded but she could hear James sigh in frustration from the window. The balcony door seemed to open of its own accord and he stepped through it. It shut with a sharp bang, separating James from his friends.
"I'll talk to him," Ethan sighed as Charlotte took an uncertain step towards the balcony.
"Okay," Charlotte whispered reluctantly falling still, as Ethan strode towards James. "Ethan it wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked as he turned the handle.
He glanced at her and smiled. "No, what I saw was fine. We know far more about the alterations than people on the outside could even begin to understand or believe. It's difficult for us to remember that sometimes. Those sort of rumours won't hurt us," he smiled.
"Then why is James so angry? I mean..." she frowned.
Ethan tucked his loose, white-blonde hair behind his ear and sighed. "Sometimes he... forgets... to see the bigger picture". Charlotte stared at him before nodding reluctantly. "He will be fine. I'll talk some sense into him," Ethan smiled.
Charlotte waited until Ethan had stepped onto the balcony and closed the door, before turning to the others.
"Why do I get the feeling he's lying?" she whispered, hugging her arms around her middle.
"Because he is," Carrie grunted with a disinterested shrug, dropping onto the sofa beside Annakiya.
Charlotte's stomach tightened as she turned and glanced at James and Ethan, their heads bent low as they discussed whatever it was that they didn't want her to know.
"I need to get out of here," she whispered. "Like out-out!"
She wasn't about to wait around for them to come back in and try to convince her everything was alright. Something was wrong and they were keeping it from her. She could feel the tension and fear in the air, the worry seeping from James like blood from a wound. He knew something, or he suspected something and she was not about to wait diligently for his mood to soften and the truth to come spilling out. That was if he even thought she could handle the truth. Charlotte could feel her anger growing.
"And like – now," she hissed.
"We can't leave the hotel Charlotte," Annakiya said with an almost childish giggle.
Charlotte gazed at her for a moment, her brow furrowed. "Ian?" she whispered.
"Oh goody, a jail break," he said, his expression gleaming with mischief. "Just when things were beginning to get a little boring".
Thanks as always my dears for checking Feared out! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I would love to hear your feedback! It's great to see that so many of you are keeping an eye out for updates - means so much! Please vote before you go! I really would appreciate it XD
Thanks again, Sorcha x