He looked into her brown eyes, closely observing her emotions. Guinevere didn't back down of course, in fact it was almost like she was challenging him. "Test me again, I dare you." he spat, not breaking their eye contact.
"Or else what?" she repli...
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"Charlie? What on earth are you doing here?" The redhead entered the room with a smile gracing his face.
"Visiting you, of course." He said, stopping in front of the witch, kissing her cheek.
Guinevere blushed, surprised with how he was acting. Ever since their almost kiss was interrupted, Charlie had made no advances towards Guinevere— hence the reason for her blush. They weren't exactly in a relationship, but they seemed to have this mutual understanding between each other. Pulling him into a hug, Guinevere chuckled and whispered, "Cheeky bastard,"
"Don't lie," he said as he pulled away, holding both her arms and looking her in the eye. "Missed me didn't you?" he smirked, raising a brow as if teasing her.
"You wish," she retorted, as she tiptoed and brought up a hand to ruffle his hair. "Perhaps you were the one who missed me." Guinevere said playfully, as she gently pulled on the hem of his jumper while walking away.
The redhead who was obviously enamoured, followed the witch as she slowly walked towards the other couch.
"I'd be a fool not to,"
Settling down on the longer and bigger armchair, Guinevere hugged her knees against her chest as she faced the redhead completely.
Charlie smiled at Guinevere as he sat beside her, his arm spreading across the couch.
"How are you?" she asked suddenly after sitting in comfortable silence for a couple minutes.
"As good as it can get, I s'pose." replied Charlie, his brows furrowing for a good second. Guinevere might've not even noticed it if she wasn't listening so intently. Lately, she's found herself more and more interested in stories her friends would tell her about life other than being holed up in here.
"Why's that?"
"We're at war, Gwynn." he said, chuckling softly.
"I know that, but didn't you say that there's nothing going on in Romania?" inquired Guinevere.
"Yes— yes nothing is," he said reassuringly. "Though because some of the guys in the sanctuary are from here, naturally they'd be worried for their families. Everyone's pissing themselves, really."
Guinevere's hand reached out to the other end of the couch, holding the redhead's hand in her palm comfortingly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Charlie."
"Nonsense! It's not your fault," he chuckled softly, not his usual one. "C'mere," Releasing his hand from her grip, he then pulls her closer to him. His arms around her shoulder as her head rested on his chest.
Guinevere didn't answer, she let herself relax in his arms as they both watched the radiant gold flame that came from the fireplace that lit up the sitting room. She allowed herself to ponder, what exactly was she doing?
