Lawless [h.s.] AU

Chapter Four

October 2313:
Charlotte Reign:
"Oy Madison, leave her alone, she's sleeping still!" I hear the distinct Irish accent in a whisper-shout. Niall.

Of course, I've barely slept, so his kindness is unnecessary. It's early, the sun hasn't even come up fully yet, the sky that soft shade of light blue just before the sun does indeed rise.

"Niall, I'm sure you boys have right scared the shit out of her. You can't just call me and say that Zayn went off his rocker and kidnapped a girl and not expect me to show up! Don't be that fucking stupid!" I hear her respond, just as firey as he was to her. She, unlike Niall, has a British accent similar to mine. 

I hear their distinct steps throughout the apartment, and then a third voice, still familiar.

"Madison, he doesn't mean it. Thank you, for bringing her some clothes. We need to treat this, treat her, delicately. The by-laws aren't really thorough enough when it comes to what I can and cannot do about Zayn."

"But mate, I mean..."

"Niall, no. Until I can find out who the Reign family is..."

As the voices come and go in clarity, I finally can place the third, it's Rex. 

I try my best to focus on their conversation, to learn everything I can, but the effort proves too much and eventually I can't help but give in to how tired I am, and fall asleep.

"You saved me," I tell the long-haired man whom I'm struggling to place where I know him from.

"I did nothing of the sort" he corrects simply, "have you done as I asked? Listened to him, not caused trouble?" The man responds, still standing across from me, leaning against the frame of the door to the bedroom. The shine of the dawn breaks through the window and sets a soft glow across his angry demeanor. 

Something about him is intoxicating, like the warmth that runs through you after a glass or two of red wine. The warmth that heats your face, and relaxes your shoulders. He looks so angry, and yet there's something in his eye that makes me want to know more. It's strange, the way I find myself drawn to him. 

"Are you alright?" He asks me, more seriously lifting himself from the wall and walking closer. I realize then, that I want him closer. 

I work to lift my head from the bed beneath me, but unsuccessfully. When he notices that I've become immobilized he sits down in front of me in the empty space on the far side of the bed.

"Charlotte, answer me, are you feeling alright? Did he do anything to hurt you?"

Instead of answering, the words seemingly missing from my vocabulary, I grab his arm and tug to bring him down to my level on the bed. 

With this, I manage to lift my head and lean it on my hand.