Reconnected

Prologue

Alexandria inhales a deepened breath of warm air, only moments later releasing it out within a shaky-like and trembled along with her grip around her bag straps tightening. Eyes lay upon the house, and from her spot on the other side of the road, she squints at it-- almost glaring. Like it's the house's fault. Psht.

"Come on, dammit," the femme mutters to herself under her breath, a hand raking through darkened curls what gradually soak from the rain what pours down violently. It's like she just stands there, blinking at a two-story-house, wondering what the heck it is. Come on, she tells herself, harder and more stronger.

Huffing, rather dramatically instead now, Alex finds herself chewing at her reddened lips and stumbling across the road-- careful to check if there is any cars passing her way, because, no, she doesn't want to die. Not yet anyways.

Brushing her knuckles against the door, the yellow door rakes with echoing stumbles of the knock what lasts for at least five seconds. Stepping backwards, awkwardly, she's not one to being lovely and dovely shoving herself in your face. So, no. That's a big no-no. Only minutes later, though; with the rain splattering down against her soaked-jacket, her curls sticking to her head wildly and messily, clothes becoming clingy. Eugh.

Silence suddenly broken, Alex snaps her eyes to the now-open-door where Rosetta, Charles' mother stands with a brightened, yet tired smile. "Alex, sweetheart," she almost grins, though the younger-femme can notice something behind the green-stained eyes of the woman. "Hey, Mrs.Novák," Alex had been told-- millions, trillions of time not to call her by the second name, despite having known her for nineteen years, she had always wanted to come across as a respectful young-lady. Obviously.

The old woman offers a weakened smile, still, and rests her palms onto the girl's shoulders; from there, she tugs Alex inwards for a warm hug, shoving the door closed with a kick of her foot. Pulling back and holding the femme from eyes-length, Rosetta squints at Alex, frowning slightly. "Oh, look at you. You're all wet." Like it resolves the problem, she brushes the wet-girl off and takes the jacket it from her, moments later, hanging it up somewhere warm to dry.

"Charlie is upstairs- if, you want to talk to him," just from the thought, Alexandria's heart speeds up, forming to place itself in her throat, violently thumping at dramatic pace and her throat becoming dry, lips pursed within a thin lie. "Okay." Voice weak, the girl feels her legs stiffen once she turns to the stairs and walks upwards on them with all the slowness she can muster up.

Casually like on instinct, the girl's ears perk up from the faint sounds of Nat-King-Cole's CD raking through the teenagers bedroom, humming and pencils tapping at the oaked God-knows-how-long table. "Hello?" Alex calls out after a while of simply leaning against the door and catching her nervous, deepened breath, lips curled into an unattractive widened smile. Though still, never the less, she was nervous. Nervous as hell.

Stumbles are heard; along with the occasional splutters and squeaky gasps. "Oh," a high voice is heard, music turned-off and papers falling to the ground until dramatically, like he's making an entrance, his bedroom door slams open against the wall; a faint sound of his mother warning him about the pictures what will fall off, someday.

Minutes, what almost seem like seconds later, a flushed boy stands at the door; the figure a little over six foot, though Alex was always a tall one-- Charlie was just taller. Her eyes, blued and lightening up from the site of him, stay locked on his own, a similar colour to his mothers, but so much younger, so much... Darker. "Hi." He squeaks, chuckling soon after, well-protected arms resting against the open door.

Alexandria has to blink, twice. Maybe more than that-- but she has to blink, because, Jesus Christ. His arms, his face and chest-- clothed, of course, other wise Alex would be dead. Dead. But, no; he's been working out, doing something physical, it's obvious, and the femme finds herself blinking violently, grip tightening on her jacket, soaked hair sticking to her now flustered and flushed face. "Hey," murmurs the girl, voice weakened and smile faltering as she silently allows herself to enter the messy room she's grown to love over the years.

Charles shuts the door after that, and leans back against it, drumming his fingertips into the oakened wood like he's deepening himself in thoughtful words, thoughtful minds of the sort. It sucks. His eyes screech across the room once he sees the woman sit down on his un-made bed, an old copy of Pride and Prejudice underneath the drooled-filled pillow.

Sitting herself down and not stumbling- thank the bloody sodding Lord -Alex crosses one wet leg over the other, her nails resuming to drum against her kneecaps like it is a habit what occurs frequently when she's either nervous, scared or quite frankly pissed off. But no. Today she was scared and nervous. God, she was. Blue eyes run over his own, to only find him starring at her; she flushes, stupidly, and looks down to her hands, instantly locking them together and messing around aimlessly.

"So," Charles begins, voice rough and formal like once he pounces onto his typing-chair, the squeaky object twirling and moving around the hard-backed floor until he's sat opposite the woman; hands tightly locking atop of his stomach and face pulled into a feature what can almost be tricked as a picture of Lord Sugar. "You wanted to talk, my sweetens?"

Alexandria blinks again, not focussing properly. Okay, first off the sweaty body - now the pet names? What? She shakes her head, placing a hand to the seemingly-spinning feature of hers as she crosses her legs, sitting in her lonely embrace and looking ahead to her best friend. Okay, she thinks, nervously; okay. This is it. Now or never, tell him the truth. Now. Or, never. So, now.

"Hey, Charlie," murmurs Alex, taking his warmly delightful hands in hers, her own much smaller against him, and she swipes her thumb across the flushed-flesh of his knuckles, focussing in on that rather than the face what was looking at her intently, admiring her beauty, her looks, her words... Christ.

"So, college is over now, huh?" The female begins, a nervous chuckle running from her lips and out into the open air, eyes briefly snapping upwards and looking over the male's, her lips curled into a soft, weakened smile. Quizzically, Charlie nods with her eyebrows creasing together within deepened confusion and questioning of his clouded mind what seems to widen with all the possibilities.

Oblivious, though, obviously; Alex continues messing with his hands, with his fingertips for a while before pulling away from him, running her sweaty palms along the side of her denim-clothed-thighs. "Yeah," he chuckles lowly, his smile widening and famous cheek-dimple coming into view-- it almost sends Alex into her sessions of squeals.

Before Alexandria can stop herself she's tugging herself into his arms, nose sniffling violently and tears leaking, blurring her gaze. "Charlie," she sniffles, her nose crinkling upwards as she viably cringes at herself. "Charlie, love, I need to tell you something--"

"Me too." The man murmurs, shocked and startled, but comforts the young girl, his thumbs swiping and tangling within his curls, tracing her scalp and soothing the haired-skin. Alex raises an eyebrow at that and pulls back; face flushed and lips swollen, tears gluing to the skin and eyes a red blood-shot colour.

Oh. Charles shifts uncomfortably this time, his hands rubbing, raking down the femme's sides as he nods curtly, a shaky and trembled breath tumbling outwards. "I got a call from The Royal Navy. They've accepted me, Alex! They've accepted me and I'm going to start the first weeks next Monday."

Her sniffling stops. Her breathing seems to become calm, yet barely audible. Eyes wide, blued-colour, she looks at the other's; a darkened green, almost black. "Oh?" She murmurs, the trembling sound in her voice remaining.

Nodding furiously, Charles grins, like a little school boy, his well-built arms tugging the femme closer until she's sat in his lap; lips smooching over her face, kissing the flesh like its glass.

"You wanted to talk to me?" He laughs from excitement mixed with the happy thoughts of living his dream-- or so he thought. Alex nods, gulping down a heavy thought, her mind clouded enough.

"I forget. Wait for it to connect to me again."