Not "Imagine Charlie"

Not "Imagine Charlie" 0.1

I can always tell when Charlie's had a hard day. His answers are cut and dry, but today is different. There's no kicking him into a better mood. He doesn't text or call much, so after work I decide to stop by his house. On the drive over I start to wonder what could be so bad that he didn't want to talk. We always talk, even on the longest, hardest, and most trying days. Something just isn't right.

I pull into the driveway and notice that his motorcycle isn't in it's usual spot by the gate to the left. Is he even home? Where else would he be?

I take the keys out of the ignition and walk up the path to the door. I knock once. Twice. No answer. Stepping back, I look to all the windows. All the lights are off... Looking down at my keychain, I lift the key to his house, enter and softly close the door behind me.

"Charlie?" I call out. No answer. "Charlie?" Again, no answer.

I walk over to the couch and notice his leather jacket and duffle bag draped across the arm. Glowering at his stuff just lying there.

"So he is here," I mutter to myself.

I walk up the stairs, straight into his bedroom to find him lying in bed on his front hugging his pillow. His boots, socks and T-shirt thrown carelessly at the foot of the bed. Charlie half naked is almost as magnificent as his body fully naked. I quietly pad over to the side of the bed and softly put my keys on the bedside table. I get down on my knees and run my fingers through his hair, softly pushing back the blonde locks that easily creep over his eyebrows.

"I'm awake," his voice startles me.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly.

"Fine." Cut and dry... ugh.

"Do you want me to stay?" I want to sound as nonchalant as possible, even though I can hear the anxiety in my voice. I really don't want to leave with him in this mood.

He sighs. "I really don't care."

I sit back on my heels and stare at him dumfounded.

"I'll leave you on your own then," trying as hard as I can to not sound as hurt as I really feel. I reach over for my keys on the nightstand when Charlie grabs my wrist softly, stopping me.

I look at him and see that his eyes are blood shot. He's been crying...

I lean over. "What happened today? I can't think of anything in the world that would make you so upset..." Staring at him, my eyes begging him to give me some sort of clue as to what could ever make the strongest and bravest man I've ever known, so broken and distraught. Silent he remains.

Sighing, I kick off my heels and slip off my leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor by his clothes. I round the bed and slip in behind him, my face looking at the back of his neck. Curving the rest of my body to his, I put one arm over him and he quickly grabs my hand, kissing each knuckle slowly.

He takes in a deep breath and finally breaks the silence.

"I love you so much, you know that right?"

I frown, knowing he can't see my face anyway. Cautiously I reply, "Yes... and I love you too." What in the world is this about?

Swiftly, he turns over and lowers himself to bury his face in my chest and holds me tight. So tight he's squeezing my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

I have one arm behind his neck, the other splayed across his back, holding him to me. His legs entwined with mine, his embrace is still strong, like he's holding on to me for dear life. Why wont you just tell me? Please. Please. PLEASE.

Another deep breath, followed by "I got offered a role. This new show for some bullshit channel I barely even watch. I don't think I've ever watched it to be honest".

Not understanding, I ask "And this upsets you because...?"

I feel his eyelashes fluttering rapidly against my chest, "It's in New Zealand."

Oh... "Well, baby, it's part of your job to travel to these far places. It's all part of the acting experience. It's not like you haven't done it before, nothing to be afraid of."

Surely, this can't be what's wrong... he'd be seriously overreacting.

"I would have to stay there. For a long time..."

"Okaaay, how long?" I look down at him just in time to see a tear slide down his temple. It's not like we haven't been apart before... for months. I must really be missing something...

"Sixteen months," the words come rushing out of his mouth like lava from a volcano and I stop breathing all together.

My eyes wide, searching his face for a glimpse of a smirk, hoping he's playing a cruel, cruel joke. But he won't even look at me. His eyebrows are closely knit together, tears pouring out of his eyes, and his lips are trembling. I remember to breathe.

I peel his arm off my rib cage and lower my body so that we're face to face. I raise my hands to his face, feeling his beard underneath my nails, moving up to wipe his tears while tears fall from my eyes.

"Come with me?"

"Charlie, you know I can't just pick up and go. There's my job and my fam–"

"I know, I know." He sighs, cutting me off. "Just thought I would ask..."

We both stay quiet.

Here goes nothing... "Where does that leave us?" My voice shaking from unshed tears.

"That falls on you. I would never make you wait for me."

"What makes you think I wouldn't?"

He chuckles, "I don't want to be the reason you're lonely at night. Why you can't sleep because the distance is too much. The reason you're unhappy..." His eyes looking into mine with panic.

"You realize that that isn't your decision to make, right? Charlie, I can think of a million reasons why I shouldn't wait. Why I should let you go and be happy..." he closes his eyes as if in pain. "But..."

His eyes shoot up to mine "But...?"

"There is this one thing that assures me that none of those options are anything, anything, I would ever choose..."

"What's that, darling?"

"You." I respond simply, because it really is that simple.

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(A/N: I just love this story so much.)