𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensie

𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒗 . . . whatever this is

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 away - albeit very reluctantly - from Peter's lips, she started to panic. The realisation of what she had just done was only then starting to sink in. Bloody hell, this must have been what he was thinking then, wasn't it? Charlotte opened her mouth to let out a string of apologies for her actions, but before she could actually get around to the apologising stage of the plan, Peter gave a minute shake of his head,

"Don't even think about it."

And just like the last time, their lips met again as both leaned closer to each other, not showing any signs of hesitance like the previous two times. Charlotte's hands found them selves intertwining their way into his hair, while his were planted firmly around her waist.

There was a shout from different places down the corridor from two different voices, both of which were recognised by a startled Charlotte and Peter as

"Lucy!"

"Aimee!"

Rang from both of their mouths. Neither hesitated to rush out of the room, deciding it would be best for the both of them to stop off at Charlotte's room first for her to have a - what they hoped would be - quick conversation with Aimee before possibly bumping into an Edmund and a Susan on the way to Lucy's room, to burst in all guns blazing.

Since Peter was fully dressed and Charlotte was still garbed in her night gown and robe, Peter waited for Charlotte to leave her chambers before their little mission was to commence.

Charlotte opened to door to her room as quietly as she could, wincing when the hinges let out a low creak. She slinked into the room, looking around for any sign of a presumably pissed off dryad, until she stopped dead in the middle of the room. She gulped when she looked up to meet the steely gaze of a visibly angry Aimee. If looks like that could kill, Charlotte might as well as been sending out invitations to her funeral early.

"Oh... er... Hello, Aimee. How are you, lovely weather we're having today, isn't it?"

That was in fact a complete lie, the wind and rain was battering its self against the windows all over Cair Paravel, and the faint outline of the waves of the sea could be seen crashing at great heights up the sandy beach.

"Yes. Heavenly." Aimee deadpanned, "How are you, your Majesty?"

"Honestly, Aimee. Would you stop calling me that?"

"When I find out where you have been all night, then yes. You have dark circles under your eyes."

"Oh. Do I?" Charlotte feigned surprise, and turned her head in an exaugurated manner to look in the mirror, "By Aslan, I look simply frightful. It must have been because I spent all night in the library." Her gaze had dropped to the floor again, so she tilted her head up to see Aimee narrowing her eyes at her.