PARKER | Dark H.S. AU

lii. without you

Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2014

The paint is chipping off of the wall, the small discoloration a bit disappointing yet nothing intolerable. Small glow from the sun sifts through the rectangular window high up the wall, the only source of natural light inside the room besides the small light bulb slotted at the center of the ceiling (which is, by the way, artificial, man-made, synthetic, unnat -- oh you get the point).

A small bookcase is pushed at one corner of the room, its content accumulating dust from being untouched over the years. A plastic desk sits next to it, a small stool tucked under it. Across them is the bed frame that's yet to be occupied by a tattered mattress left leaning against the wall just over the frame. A stark dresser gets lost in the mix, standing behind the bed as if it intended not to be noticed by anyone...a wallflower, so they say.

Charlie takes a deep breath after skimming the room, nothing seems to faze her as she grants a big smile down to Martha who is frowning at the state of the room.

"Sweetie, are you sure you're going to be okay here?" The small woman asks the blonde, gray hair that emanates from their roots already showing atop her head. Wrinkles form over her forehead, the crinkles framing her eyes and mouth brought about by the concerned smile she gives to Charlie.

The blonde nods, giving one last look around the room, breathing in the faint smell of wood and old paint.

"Yes, Martha. It's even better than nothing." She smiles, reassuring Martha as she pockets both her hands, shrugging her shoulders in the process.

"You can stay in my room, sweetie. Basements are meant for storing stuff, not for people to live in." Martha says with a huff, staring at Charlie intently as if to say 'can't you see?', but Charlie brushes it off.

"And yet there's no other thing that's stored in here. Oh, don't be foolish, Martha. I could be on the streets right now, but I'd still be thankful for it." Charlie giggles to herself as she moves towards the bedframe, reaching for the edge of the mattress as she takes it down to lay flat on the frame.

Martha smiles endearingly at Charlie, but the blonde doesn't see it because she's busying herself at dusting off the mattress. She turns to the dresser, remembering the set of bedsheets that have been kept there.

"Leave it, Martha." Charlie is next to her the next moment, patting Martha's shoulder as the petite woman crouches down to the level of the fixture, scouring for comforters. "I still have my stuff outside -- clothes, comforters and everything. I'll take care of it. It's not like I'll be staying here permanently. Don't worry yourself too much." The blonde adds, chuckling at her words to make light of the situation.

Martha is not having it, though. The woman stands to her full height, facing Charlie with a weary expression on her face. She reaches for Charlie's hand, sandwiching it within two of hers. The blonde looks down at the veins protruding through the pale skin. She remembers when Martha used to do the same gesture when she was still young...a lost twelve year-old girl. It demands full attention, yet it doesn't fail to convey the simple message of concern and love, letting her know that Martha will always be there for her. The callouses are rough against her skin, but the gentle way she touches her makes up for it...comforting her like it always used to. Although when their eyes meet, Charlie only sees hurt and despair in her eyes.

Martha always knew the blonde like the backs of her hands. To her, Charlie is an open book and no matter how the young lady hides her true emotion by her stupid grin, Martha will always read the pain behind her blue irises.

"Stay as long as you'd like, Charlie. You know the kids always love having you here. We love having you here." She smiles up at Charlie. Though she knows something else is bothering the blonde, she isn't going to push it. She always knows Charlie would open up through her terms.