House of Scales

Chapter 17: Exalted confession

"That's it," exclaimed Charles, collapsing on the sofa after making sure all the windows were closed with the curtains drawn. "If we hear anything, we can put the table against the window as a first safety measure. We also have coal near the fireplace in case we run out of bullets."

"There's a couple of paperclips on the table for if you want to build a rocket launcher, young MacGyver.

"Mac What?"

"It's nothing." Sasha laughed, trying to reincorporate on the couch, checking on the amount of weight she could put on her left foot.

Her leg was still somewhat numb, and she didn't even notice the bandage. However, with a little effort, she could walk. Under the danger of those strange beings, she would be able to run with some difficulty when the numbness had subsided somewhat.

"What about the new member of the group?" he asked with a smile, repositioning her leg and settling back on the couch to rest. "Did you need an archer at the party for long-range damage?"

Charles laughed with her while she drank some water and explained how they had met Luanne and how she had helped them ever since.

"And Simone hasn't said anything?"

"What is he going to say?" Charles laughed about it. "I ever doubt he makes a move unless we make him do it."

Sasha looked at him, tenderly as he held her hand. They had known each other for so many years. After all, she had seen that brat grow up with her brother, and their mischief had worn a lot of their patience out during their adolescence.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"You make fun of Simone for not being able to say a thing to a girl, though she can already see it. But you... you've taken more than a couple of months."

"What? No. I'm very direct when I like someone. Didn't I tell you some years ago?" he said with a defiant look.

"I do remember," she said giggling. "So, when will you say it to my brother?"

Charles stood there, unable to find a word to return that dose of reality. The truth was, he hadn't said anything like that out loud for a long time. After all, he couldn't fool Sasha no matter how hard he tried. He had been in love with Sasha since he was a little boy. He had always liked her, and when he was twelve years old, he had confessed. She, with a smile and a lot of sweetness, had turned him down. He had promised that when he was old enough to drive, he would tell her again. He thought she didn't remember that.

"You'll be able to get your license in no time," she said with a sneer. "Will you ask me out once you've got a car?"

He didn't know what to say. He was going to ask how long she'd known, but he knew the answer she'd give him: forever. Sasha was very intuitive, and he assumed that such things weren't at all beyond his control. Only he couldn't say it out loud: a lump in his throat prevented him from doing so. Perhaps to recognise the fear that, if he verbalised it, there would be no turning back.

"My father. He doesn't know. He is too strict; I don't think he would—"

"Oh, please, Charlie, that's the stupidest bullshit you could've come up with. Your father wouldn't mind who you fall in love with. The first thing he'll do is to check his police records, not his sexual orientation."

He put his head down, ashamed. He couldn't fool Sasha, no matter how hard he tried. Deep down, she was right. He didn't think her father would be shocked to tell him he liked boys too. His father had always taken care of him after his mother died; he didn't imagine anything could make them split up. Not even something like that.