~Part 1: Charlie~
Charlie is standing close to the fire that is burning right in front of her. She's exhausted. She's cold. Nightfall has covered the Texan landscape in darkness. Tall trees that brush the night sky surround their camp. While she's lost in her own thoughts, she crosses her arms before her chest.
Connor is walking into the forest that is surrounding their camp. She looks up when he leaves camp but she has no intention to follow him.
'Shouldn't you be following him?' Monroe's voice is like a hoarse, soft caress in the darkness of the night, but it's laced with scorn and controlled violence.
Her whole body immediately reacts to his voice so close to her. When she turns around to face him, arrogance is oozing from his shoulders. Menace fills his eyes. He is standing close to her, almost close enough to make his breath brush against the skin of her neck. It's the first time in weeks he has talked to her.
She doesn't know anyone who can play with personal space like Monroe. His eyes look darker, almost just as dark as the black leather of his jacket. The flames of the fire brush the sheen of sweat that covers the strong lines of his neck and the tanned skin right above his shirt.
He has been watching you, a part of her mind whispers while the rest of her body screams at her to kill the arrogant son of a bitch.
She gets right in his personal space, close enough to take in his scent of whiskey and leather. She looks straight at him. She has never walked away from his cruel mocking words. And she is not starting now.
'I don't know Monroe…' her eyes pierce into his, 'shouldn't you be busy following Miles like a lost puppy or try to fuck my mom again?'
Burning rage mixes with something she doesn't want to acknowledge, fill Monroe's eyes, right there in front of her. He's close enough to hear his sharp intake of breath.
It's the first time she shares with anyone that she had watched her mother and Monroe when they had gotten into their hate filled fight about that night in Philly. Miles had been missing. Neville had just tried to kill her. So when she had found their tracks on her way to something to hold onto, she just hadn't enough energy to deal with their bullshit when she had found them. She had turned around and had walked to their camp on her own, without telling anyone. Monroe had never realized she had been there. Until tonight. She can see it happening in the blue of his eyes that is slowly losing their cold steel while his mouth opens slightly.
The reaction in his eyes is vibrating through the remaining space between them. They just stare at each other, while a storm of violence and all the things they both refuse to look at lingers right beneath the surface.
The sounds of their camp pull them away from what is happening between them. And suddenly, they both realize where they are when the rest of the world comes back into focus. Monroe takes a step away from her, but his eyes are still burning hot and aimed at her.
When she watches him walk away from her, she tries to pretend that his eyes and the deadly intensity oozing of his body won't be thing she thinks of when she will be alone at the river a mile from their camp later tonight, when it will be just her and the touch of her own hand that slowly starts its path to the warmth between her thighs.