Bonds | T. Odinson

Chapter Four

The table wasn't cold, it wasn't warm and it wasn't uncomfortable. It was just kind of... there. Charlotte laid back on the table, staring up at the red holographic projection of herself that was above her. If she turned to her right, not only did the hologram mimic her, but she could see Thor, who was lying on a table identical to hers, in the same position, but his hologram was golden.

They hadn't spoken about what happened the night before. They hadn't mentioned it, acknowledged it or anything. They were acting like it hadn't happened at all.

Despite the fact that it was probably the best kiss of her life, and Charlotte couldn't regret it even if she wanted to... There was no way in Helheim that she was going to ask Thor about it, or confront him about why they had both somehow agreed that it was not to be spoken off.

Charlotte didn't want to even look at him, for fear he would look at her and she wouldn't see something good in his aura. She didn't want to see regret, even if she knew that he must feel it. She didn't want to see distance, despite how much was obviously between them. Most of all, she didn't want to see pity, even though she knew that it was there.

Now was not going to be the time to cry, Charlotte told herself. Keep yourself together.

You knew something was hopeless when even the advanced technology of the Asgardians couldn't solve the problem.

Charlotte and Thor had laid on those tables for what felt like an eternity. It had probably been closer to hours, though. No matter what the technicians or doctors or whatever they were did, they couldn't find out what the source of the connection between them was or how to find it or how to stop it.

Laying in her bed after they had been released, Charlotte couldn't help but feel glad that they didn't have any answers. Sure, she wanted to know why she and Thor were connected and how, but she didn't want to lose that connection.

Without that connection, she wasn't special anymore. Sure, she would still have her abilities, but lots of other people on the planet had special abilities that set them apart from the rest of the world. This connection to Thor set her apart, it made her different than even those gifted with rare and special abilities and she didn't want to lose that.

All her life she had been ordinary. Too shy to be the jokester, too nice to be the mean girl. Never brilliant enough to be the brainiac, never confident enough to be the trendsetter. She was always just Charlotte. An ordinary girl who happened to come from a family with money and was therefore lucky enough to be put in a great school. In any great school she wanted.

Everyone around her had always been better. Her best friend, Opaline, hadn't come from money and had gotten herself through law school without the assistance of anyone. Her older brother, Christopher, had used their family's wealth to start a company that was helping third world countries get good food and clean drinking water and businesses that would help bring in more income for their families.

And Charlotte... Well, she had always just been Charlotte. Always just the younger sister, the average student, the follower, the other Byrne child, the one that never accomplished anything special to set her apart.

Now she had abilities, now she was connected to Thor and no one else, alive or dead, in any of the nine worlds could say that they had that.

Now she had something that set her apart.

And she didn't want to give it up.

Maybe that was selfish, maybe it was wrong, but Charlotte couldn't find it in herself to care. She wanted that recognition, wanted to be seen as special. And when you never had anything like that, and then suddenly you did... How could you be expected to give that up?

Charlotte rolled over onto her side, curling into a ball and staring at the wall across the room. She had been lying in her bed since she and Thor had been released from the Halls of Healing, where the Asgardians had been doing their investigating.

There was no denying that she was sulking. Charlotte knew this, she accepted this.

She was sulking because of Thor. Because they had kissed and it had been amazing and she couldn't imagine how something that amazing could be a mistake, but she also couldn't ignore the nagging voice in the back of her head.

It was a mistake, the voice said.

You messed everything up, it told her.

He pities you, it explained.

And there's no way he doesn't believe the kiss was his biggest mistake, it finished.

The repetition of these words made Charlotte believe them just a little bit more. It may have felt right, but it was a mistake. It did mess everything up. There was no way that he didn't pity her, and there was definitely no way he didn't believe the kiss was his biggest mistake.

Pushing the tears from her eyes, Charlotte flopped back over to her back and stared up at the ceiling. She was going to be here for two and a half weeks more, at the least, and she was going to have to face Thor every day, knowing he pities her.

Charlotte could deal with hate. She'd dealt with hate her whole life, from people who didn't like her family or their business, to the typical mean girls you would encounter everywhere. Hate was something she was used to. Hate was something she could ignore, and get past. But pity? That was a whole other story...