Not what I thought

Confessions

Xavier's POV

She's been through two semi successful operations with a couple of minor complications, over a week in hospital, two blood transfusions and quite a few visits back there. The doctors couldn't believe how lucky she was.

I've stayed by her side since it happened. Alex is still on the run and we're almost sure that he wants Charlotte dead. We've had guards positioned on her since she got to hospital.

They've have kept her so heavily drugged to help her heal that she hasn't yet been fully conscious. She still has no idea what's going on. The last thing she remembers will be lying in the alley with blood pouring from her.

When we finally return home, it's not the same. She's different. Being shot changed her although I imagine being shot would change anyone.

She barely sleeps but when she does, it's short and filled with flash backs. I stay by her side, sitting next to her as she tries to sleep. She'll wake up in sweats and sudden screams.

This morning she's restless. She turns to me.

"I can't believe I haven't asked this yet but what actually happened after I got shot?"

"Well as you know Alex escaped, when you got to hospital they operated straight away. A doctor came to talk to me and said that you lung was partially deflated and filled with blood from the puncture of the bullet. There were bone fragments through your chest and a couple of broken ribs. When you fell you must've hit you're head because your eyes were all out of whack. You looked a mess and I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"The last thing I remember was lying in the lane way. I saw Alex leave. You know it didn't hurt like I thought it would. I don't even know how to explain it. It was really weird."

I stand up to leave. She clears her throats and turns to me.

"I never said thank you. Thank you for finding me, thank you for keeping me alive and thanks again for looking after me. And I mean it. Seriously, thanks."

I leave her for a few hours to clean and do chores. She comes down stairs. pretty looking sleepy. And just as she does, dad calls.

She's stares at me intently as I try to keep my voice calm. I hang up and sit at the bench. Charlotte stares at me from across the bench, propped up on her elbows.

"What's happened?"

"Uhh it's uh nothing. It's nothing."

"If it was nothing then you would've have stuttered and whispered to your dad during the call."

"Ok fine. Right after you got shot, dad assigned some guys to personally finding and tracking Alex. One of them were found dead this morning and we haven't heard from another."

She slams her fist against the bench and runs off with tears slowly forming in her eyes. I don't stop her this time. She treads up the stairs and I hear her door shut and lock.

I don't know how I was going to keep that from her. I couldn't have. I knew she wasn't going to like what she heard.

I give her some time before I go to check on her. I tap on her door but she doesn't answer.

"Charlotte?"

Still no answer. The key that unlocks my bedroom door also does all the other doors. I slowly unlock the door and peer in. She's curled up on the other side of the bed, sobbing hopelessly.

I've honestly never felt so bad for a person. This has nothing to do with me and I feel totally responsible for it.

Charlotte's changed me, for the good. I'm happy she's stayed around as long as she has. She's better person than not people I've met. I really like her. Scratch that. Really really like her. Yes dad, to answer your earlier question, yes. I am falling for her.

I slide past the door and sit next to her. Her crying just intensifies. She's practically screaming at this point.

I've seen this girl go through things no one else should. She's lost her parents. She's been shot. And both of these happened within a matter of months.

I sink down into the bed and lay behind her with my arm across her. Her crying slowly begins to subside.

"Why are you crying?"

"I hate this. I hate that people have to die for me. I hate not having mum here. I hate constantly being in and out of hospital. I hate all this. I hate myself. I hate-"

"Stop. Please stop."

I roll of the bed and sit down on the floor in front of her.

"Don't say that. Please."

I reach out and wipe away the tears away from her face and push her hair back.

"Don't talk about it like that. You're still alive. You still have the ability to get over all this. You're strong. I know you are. You've saved my life. You went face to face with the guy that killed you're parents-"

"Who then shot me and left me for dead in an alley.""

"But you're still alive."

"But people are dead because of me."

"I've almost run out of things to say."

"Almost?"

"Almost."

I pause for a second. Swallow deeply and then tell her exactly what I've been bottling up for so long.

"You are beautiful. You are so beautiful. You told me about all the guys that have overlooked you and all I want to do is go back to them and show them how beautiful you are and how strong you are. And you're so hot. That first night we met, when I came in really late, I already knew I liked you. You're different and I love that. Why don't people see you like I do and more importantly, how don't you see how beautiful you are? I've seen you through the most brutal time of your life and I love everything about you. I love from your head to your toes. I love how you can get dressed up in fancy dress and look like a princess and then wear a hoodie and track pants and you still look amazing. I need a stronger word than love and I know somewhere in that incredible vocabulary, you can give me a stronger word than love. Because, I love you and care for you and worry for you more than you an ever imagine. Don't cry. I mean you still look beautiful but please, don't cry."

I have terrible timing. I probably could've told her that when she wasn't already crying. But she's obviously happier now.

"Why me?"

"Who else? I love you."

"Thought you would never say that."

She manages a cheeky smile.

"I do too."

I crawl back into her bed and hold her close and she finally falls asleep. Her head rests on my chest, falling and rising with my breaths. She's actually manages to sleep. And for hours she does pretty much solidly and totally restful.