Charles Smith x Reader

Twenty-One

Grumbling and groaning, Charles turned his head, eyes squeezed shut to fight back the headache that hammered against his skull.

Nausea and pain made his lungs pull together.

Something soft rustled below him. He tried to move to the side, pillows caressed his face, only for him to realise that his movements were limited.

Confused, he frowned. His arms wouldn't budge. One eye opened.

"What... the hell..?", he breathed.

His right hand was tied to the edge of the bed, forcing him to stay in place. The other was tied above his head. He could feel his shoulder. It was sore, adding to the pain.

"Finally awake again?", you asked with a sour grin. "How's your head?"

He frowned.

"My head?"

"You passed out. Your head hit the door, I hope it's not too bad. Though it seems quite thick from what I can tell.", you pulled out the small container of pills and shook it. "You won't get any more of these. I'm sure you'll understand."

He let out a deep huff. His face twisted and a soft groan slipped off his lips.

"How long was I out?", Charles needed to squeeze his eyes shut in order to keep his mind sane.

"Few days."

Utter disbelief appeared on his face.

"A few days?! What do you mean?"

You shrugged.

"I didn't count. Two, maybe.", your eyes traveled out the window. "Three is more likely though..."

"I was out for three days?"

"Like I said I'm not sure. Believe it or not but I have a life outside caring for strangers who get shot and seek for shelter in my barn."

"You say that as if you're used to it..."

"Funny story. This is a first for me too.", with a sigh you threw your head back and let out a loud sound of defeat. "I can't believe you almost died on me. TWICE. At this point I have to take compensation. How much you got?"

Eyes as big as plated, Charles stared at you. He was confused. Not just confused but also debating whether or not you meant it.

"You're... strange.", he muttered with a soft huff.

Genuine amusement appeared on his face. For the first time since you've found him in your barn you felt like he was at ease.

And all of a sudden he looked like a calm, careless boy who just wanted to have a genuine laugh. He was soft for this moment.

Curling your lips, you tried to hide the smirk that grew on your face and put on a serious expression.

"So you don't got money?", you asked, stone cold.

His face changed and cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Uh... are you serious?"

You let him struggle for a moment by not answering. Then, lowering your head, you let out a chuckle.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya.", in one swift moment you rose to your feet. "You hungry?"

He declined with a soft shake of his head.

"Just sore.", his gaze wandered up to where you had tied his hand to the bed. "Could you?"

For a moment you eyed his hand, large and a little rough in the middle. It was a sign of hard physical labour. But judging by his anatomy, with this large chest of his and rather swollen stomach, he was a man for physical work anyways.

"You need to stay in bed.", you said drily. "Seriously, I won't have you collapse in my house no more. Gets boring after a while."

His gaze was glued to you. Many emotions mixed together but one seemed very persistent.

Confusion.

He still didn't get why you insisted on him staying. It was for his own good, sure.

But how would you benefit from a strangers recover?

He owed you more than he would ever be able to pay back. And he hadn't even asked for it. He had made it clear more than once that he wanted to return to his gang.

So why did you keep insisting?

A sigh rolled off your lips.

"Look, I feel bad for you, okay? And I kinda wanna feel better about myself by not abandoning someone in need.", again, your eyes wandered out the window to avoid his gaze. "I broke some agreements to save your life because I acted in a moment of shock. And I don't want it to be all for nothing. So how hard is it for you to just... stay in bed a few days and then see how you feel?"

With a sigh, Charles closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He was still visibly in pain, though a lot less than before.

"You're a weird one...", he muttered more to himself than you and frowned. "Could at least free one hand? My neck is itching..."

Curling your lips, you crossed both arms in front of your chest and eyed him.

"Promise you with cause me more trouble as is?", you smiled awkwardly.

Unmoved, he shrugged.

"Sure."

"Thank you.", with a smile, you cut one of his hands loose that he was able to get rid of the unpleasant itch that plagued him for a while now. "I appreciate the effort."

Lips pressed into a thin line he looked at you, eyebrows drawn together. Suspicion shimmered in those deep brown eyes of his. But at least he wasn't out to pick a fight.

"You know, I don't fancy violence.", he started.

You took a big step back and grinned broadly.

"I'm sure you'd never punch someone who saved your life, no?", a bit of nervousness was audible in your words as you chuckled, cold sweat running down your back.

"No.", with a sigh, he closed his eyes again.

Truth was he would have lost his temper already. But this situation was oddly comforting to him. Charles was in pain and suffering. His nerves were as thin as they could have been.

But he did not feel irritated. In fact, he was quite glad you kept insisting. Even though he would have never admitted it, he knew that you were right.

He needed rest.

But why was he fine with a stranger ordering him around?

He couldn't answer that question. Maybe it was just the fear that he had felt while dying. It must have made him soft.

At least for the person who he had to thank for his life.