Remember This✔

Chapter Twenty-Two

Monday morning comes quickly and Charlie wakes up in Aubrey's bed just before his alarm sounds off. They spent the night together and although he should feel some kind of positivity, it wasn't quite what he imagined. Aubrey spent most of the night talking about work and how she hates most of her colleagues and how stupid they are and clueless about the world. She continued with a rant about taxes and vacation prices and then spent half an hour trying to talk herself into buying a pet. Charlie stopped paying attention to most of it and discreetly turned up the volume on the television. He was still angry with her about the party and the fact that she never thanked him for making sure she didn't die. When the sex happened, it was different, and she could sense that though she didn't bring it up. They were both too exhausted to care.

Charlie leaves the bed and steps through the room carefully so he doesn't wake her. He enters the kitchen and makes himself a coffee as he yawns. His mind is still adjusting to the strange sleeping pattern he's had to endure after sleeping most of the day Saturday. Now he knows how Aubrey feels. He didn't think he'd sleep as well as he did last night but he was mentally drained.

Around twenty minutes later, Aubrey slowly walks through the doorway with a fluffy gown wrapped around her. Her eyes are low and heavy, she doesn't look at him as she moves towards the coffee pot.

"Morning," Charlie says quietly.

She grumbles something as a reply which doesn't resemble English. She isn't a morning person and she probably resents him for waking her up. She sits at the table with the mug in her hand and when he tries to speak she cuts him off by holding a finger in the air. He bites down on his words as she sips the coffee repeatedly.

"Proceed," she whispers, looking back to him.

"It doesn't matter," he mutters.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "I feel like you've been in a mood all night."

"I'm surprised you noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you even remember Saturday night?" Charlie demands. "How wasted you got? I had to carry you into this apartment, literally."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "It was a party, there was alcohol. Besides, I wasn't the one that beat the most popular senior to a pulp."

"I didn't beat him to a pulp." Charlie laughs to himself.

"That isn't what everyone else is saying."

"Exactly, it's what other people are saying. You were too drunk to even know what was going on. Roy had it coming, I can't stand him."

"It still embarrasses me!" she hisses.

"I embarrassed you? You passed out in my arms! I had to lay you on the sidewalk and turn you over so you didn't choke on your own sick. But I'm the bad guy?"

"Okay," she says, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't have got that drunk. I'm sorry and I'll be more responsible next time."

"And?" Charlie widens his eyes.

"And I'm grateful that you took care of me," she says, as though she's being forced to. "I was just having fun, I didn't think."

"You need to start thinking," Charlie says seriously. "What if I hadn't been there? What if it hadn't had been your friend's house? Do you think any other guy would have just picked you up and brought you home?"

"No," she says. "Probably not."

She's finally starting to understand the seriousness of it, how vulnerable and careless she was. He doesn't want to sound patronizing or like he's trying to tell her what to do but it scares him that she can be that close to being in harm's way and she doesn't have a care in the world about it. Sometimes he feels like he's the oldest one in the relationship and she's the one that's still in school.