Vaggie The Moth Babe

Chapter 2: Unspoken Fires

The walk from the training facility to Charlie's office wasn't long, but for Vaggie, it felt like an eternity. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from the physical exertion, but from the weight of Charlie's voice over the intercom. She could hear something in it—a softness, a hesitation that wasn't normally there. It made her uneasy.

As she approached the door to Charlie's office, she wiped her palms on her tracksuit, trying to calm herself down. The anger that had fueled her training session still lingered beneath the surface, pulsing like a live wire. But she couldn't show it. Not to Charlie.

Taking a deep breath, Vaggie knocked lightly before entering. The familiar warmth of the room washed over her as she stepped inside. Charlie sat at her desk, surrounded by the same piles of paperwork that never seemed to end. Her golden hair caught the dim light of the lamp, casting a soft halo around her head. But today, there was something different in her posture—her shoulders were tense, her hands fidgeting slightly as she tapped a pen against the edge of the desk.

Charlie looked up, her eyes meeting Vaggie's, and for a moment, the tension in the room thickened. A gentle smile tugged at Charlie's lips, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Hey, babe," Vaggie said softly, her voice more subdued than usual as she walked further into the room. "What's going on?"

Charlie motioned toward the chair across from her, her voice quiet. "Sit down, Vaggie. Please."

That caught Vaggie off guard. Charlie was never so formal with her. Normally, they would share a quick kiss, maybe a joke or two, even in the middle of the chaos that was their life. But this—this felt serious.

Without a word, Vaggie sat down, her back straight, eyes locked on Charlie. The room felt heavy, almost suffocating. She could feel her pulse quicken, and she forced herself to keep calm, though her fingers twitched restlessly at her sides.

"Is something wrong?" Vaggie asked, her tone steady but laced with concern.

Charlie sighed, leaning back in her chair as she ran a hand through her hair, fingers catching on a few tangles. Her usual bright demeanor seemed dulled, her face etched with the weight of unspoken thoughts. For a long moment, she didn't say anything, and Vaggie felt the tension rise inside her.

Finally, Charlie spoke, her voice soft but filled with a quiet strength. "We can't keep going on like this, Vaggie. Not with... not with your anger."

The words hit Vaggie harder than any strike she'd landed in the training room. She blinked, her jaw tightening. "My anger?" she echoed, her voice sharper than she intended. The red X on her left eye flickered faintly as a reminder of the very thing Charlie was pointing out. "What are you talking about, Charlie? I'm fine. I've been fine."

Charlie's gaze softened, but there was a firmness behind her eyes. "No, Vaggie. You're not fine. I can see it, everyone can. The way you push yourself during training, the way you..." she trailed off, hesitant to finish the thought. "You can't keep letting your anger control you. It's not healthy, and it's not—"

"Not what?" Vaggie interrupted, standing abruptly. The frustration she had tried so hard to bury was bubbling up, unstoppable. "Not good for the hotel? For your reputation as the princess of Hell?" Her words were sharp, laced with bitterness, though she regretted them the second they left her mouth.

Charlie flinched, her eyes dropping to the papers on her desk for a moment. "That's not what I mean, Vaggie." Her voice was small, and for the first time, she looked... hurt.

Vaggie cursed under her breath, biting the inside of her cheek. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the red X on her eye pulsed again, feeding the fire inside her. She wanted to argue, to push back, to deny it. But deep down, she knew Charlie was right.

"Look," Charlie said after a long silence, her voice gentle but firm. "I know you've been through a lot. I know Hell is... hard. And I'm not asking you to change who you are, Vaggie. I love you. But you can't keep bottling everything up and letting it explode like this. It's not just about me, or the hotel. It's about you."

Vaggie turned her back to Charlie, staring out the window, though the view was nothing more than the endless flames of Hell. Her fists clenched at her sides. She hated feeling like this—exposed, vulnerable. Charlie was the only person who could make her feel this way, and that scared her more than anything.

"You don't get it, Charlie," Vaggie muttered, her voice rough. "You don't know what it's like. To live with this constant anger. To have it eat at you every day." She paused, her voice cracking slightly. "I can't just turn it off."

Charlie stood and walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm not asking you to turn it off. I'm asking you to talk to me. To let me in. You don't have to carry all of this on your own, Vaggie. Please, let me help."

Vaggie closed her eyes, the tension in her body slowly releasing under Charlie's touch. She sighed, her shoulders sagging as the weight of her own frustration drained from her. She hated how easily Charlie could disarm her, how her soft voice and gentle touch could cut through the rage she carried. But maybe—just maybe—that was what she needed.

Turning around, Vaggie met Charlie's gaze, her own eyes softening. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't mean to... I don't want to hurt you."

Charlie smiled softly, her fingers brushing a strand of Vaggie's hair behind her ear. "I know. But you don't have to fight this alone. We're in this together."

Vaggie nodded, her chest tightening with a mixture of relief and guilt. "I'll try... for you."

Charlie pulled her into a tight embrace, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Vaggie let herself relax, leaning into the warmth of Charlie's arms. The fire of Hell raged outside, but in that moment, it felt distant.

"Thank you," Charlie whispered, her voice filled with love and hope.

Vaggie closed her eyes and held her tighter, knowing that this battle wasn't over, but maybe, with Charlie by her side, she wouldn't have to fight it alone.