𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 ~ | 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘤

VIII

Chapter Eight:

~ Villain, I have done thy mother ~

Charles's POV

I've never liked watching anyone sleep.

It always felt like an invasion of privacy, even when they're sleeping peacefully. Plus I never really got the chance to. Every time I... had a girl over, I either woke up alone or I was the one who left.

But this morning... I'd never wake up to anything like this.

The soft, warm weight of her body pressed against my chest, her arm looped over my forearm, her head resting on my bare shoulder. Her chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, a slight smile curving her lips as she slept. The sheets were tangled around us, her bare legs entwined with mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it felt like to actually belong somewhere.

I had never been one for gentle physical affection either. I'd never been one for cuddling or holding hands or any of that. I used to once, but not anymore.

Not until her.

She was... perfect.

There was no other way to describe her.

She was poetry. Not in the way people usually think of it. She was no delicate flower, no fragile muse. No, she was the crashing waves of the ocean, the howling winds that carved canyons from the earth.

She was the sun that bathed the world in light and the storm that tore it apart.

I could have written a thousand words about her, and every single one of them would have fallen short. I could try to find the perfect metaphor, some poetic description that would do her justice, but it would be like trying to capture the vastness of the ocean in a teaspoon.

I still couldn't believe what had happened.

And yet... despite all this, I couldn't help but wonder how much of it was real. Nothing about her felt real. As if it were too good to be true.

I was begging that it was.

Because I never want this moment to end, I lie there for as long as I can, just taking her in.

It could take me years to even fully begin to understand her, to discover all the intricacies of her personality. Maybe even then, I'd only scratch the surface. But I would spend every moment I had with her trying.

"Hm..." She mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. Her words were slurred, her body shivering slightly as she spoke.

It was still raining, the sound of the droplets pelting the window like tiny fists. The blankets that I had wrapped around us had fallen off her shoulders, leaving her exposed.

Without hesitation, I slid my arm around her shoulders, my hand cupping the side of her head into the crook of my back. My other hand slipped beneath the sheet, tracing soft circles over her hip. She was wearing one of my shirts, the fabric riding up where my fingers were.

Her body relaxed against me, her hand sliding up my back to curl around my neck. She leaned into me, her cheek pressing against my chest, and I felt a shiver run through her.

"Are you cold, love?" I asked, my voice a low whisper.

"Just... stay like this," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. Her body curled into mine even tighter, her leg curling over my waist.