The parent project - Chenry

Chapter five: A truce...

| Henry |

 Charlotte is a bitch. But she hasn't always been like that. I remember days where she was filled with nothing but jokes, witty comebacks, fluid charisma, and smiles. That was a long time ago, I reminded myself. Things are different now. Things are paranormal. Awkward, and white hot with sensitivity, like staring directly into the sun. The look of determination in her eyes began haunting my brain as I kicked my foot up onto the seat in front of me. I tapped my fingers along the edge of my knee, popping my phone case on and off the body of my phone as I struggled to study the cracks in the leather seat before me. She was a bitch. An arctic essence carved from stone. Some intimate artist's cruel piece of work.

 Pinching my eyes together with my fingers, I drew a shallow breath into my lungs. She was Charlotte Bolton. There was nothing else to be said about it. Charlotte shifted in her seat slightly, her arm grazing mine on the arm rest we shared. A prickly feeling skittered up the surface of my skin. I heard faint notes of her music. She's listening to a song I've heard so many times I almost mouthed the words. I can smell her skin. A warm, aggressive scent of freshly washed clothes and something comfortable like vanilla but still earthy. Charlotte always wore men's deodorant because it was stronger than anything a female brand could make. I ticked that fact off mentally, she still wears men's deodorant. And this is important to you because... Why? My brain churned. Absently, I unlocked my phone. Bianca's face is hidden behind an array of color-coded apps, but that didn't stop my stomach from clenching and un-clenching as I tapped my thumb over the hovering text messages.

. New Message .

Baby 💞: I hate you.

imessage: Love you too

Baby 💞: Funny.

imessage: Wasn't trying to be.

Baby 💞: 🖕🏻

imessage: 😍 I just wanna say that despite putting my neck on the line for you yesterday, I love when you're like this.

Baby 💞: Go to hell.

imessage: Only if you'll come with me 🙏🏻

Looking up, I saw Bianca swipe my latest message across the top of her screen to reply to another one. A sound of deflation escaped my lips, just barely loud enough for me to hear it.  Charlotte shifted once more, her arm brushed mine again. Her constant movement was irritating me. I glanced over at her, but her eyes were closed and her shining lips were puckered as she softly lip synced along with the song. In her own world. Oh, to be so oblivious. Or maybe she wasn't that oblivious, maybe it was a tactic to seem un-bothered. Like she always did, when she thinks I don't notice. Smiling patiently through my insults, turning her back on my crude gestures, and Bianca's snide remarks. Suddenly her eyes opened, and I realized I had been staring at her.

"Can I help you?"

Plucking an ear bud out, she sat up straight in her seat as if the realization that I was watching her was suddenly disturbing and dangerous.

"Sure, depends on what you wanna help with we are stuck back here for a couple hours..."

Raising both my eye brows, I curled my fist around an imaginary dick and jammed it in and out of my mouth as I poked my tongue against my cheek. The gayness of it all was totally worth her expression.

"You're disgusting."

After initiating a grimace of disapproval, she fully turned away from me towards the window. The grin was already forming across my lips.

"Glad you noticed."

I said.

"You're not allowed to speak to me."