The March of the Black Queen (book III)

47.) Be My Rebel Girl

A/N:

Hmmmm....yeah...

I really don't know where this came from? I guess kind of a filler. Just to get to know the characters a little better. I feel torn about it so, like, um.....

❤❤❤❤

Cherie:

It's half past midnight and I'm lying awake in bed, unable to sleep. Charlie should be here any minute. I'm feeling much better thanks to Phoebe's delicious remedy stew. I don't know what he puts in the stuff, but he knows it settles my stomach every time.

The door creeks open and Charlie pops her head in, undoubtedly checking if I'm still awake. "Come here, Princess...," I call to her and she immediately flings the door open the rest of the way.

She doesn't say anything as she kicks off her high heels and crawls in bed beside me. I lift the duvet for her to settle in.

"How're you feeling, Mummy?," She asks cautiously. "If you're too tired we can just talk some other time."

"Don't worry about me, I want to hear all about your night. What's the matter? Why'd you leave so early?"

I sit up in the bed trying my best to be present in this moment, and she follows my lead. Like old times, I remember her always coming to me when she was younger. We'd gab like a couple of girlfriends about any trouble she was having. In recent years, she's kept a lot to herself. It makes me so happy to be having this insight right now.

"How, Mum! How is it possible?!"

She starts her dramatic rant, hands flying all around us as she gets more and more flustered. "He just seems to make the pitter-patter of my heart hike up with the way his dazzling smile lights up his eyes!"

She says such an adoring description with a tone of disgust. I smirk to myself as I listen to her go on and on. I remember this all too well.

"He says my name and it's like I've never heard anything more beautiful in my entire life!," Yep. I remember that, too.

"And the way he just keeps his distance, but his eyes follow my every move! Ugh! It's annoying! Like, I mean, you know me. I don't let on much, but still!"

I grab her hands tightly in mine as we now sit cross-legged in front of each other. Her wild hand motions make it hard to concentrate on her words. "Sounds like you really like him. Maybe if you tell him, he'd feel the same....I mean, you still have to tell him about the baby..."

I try not to visibly cringe when the words come out of my mouth. It's like a step into the past, except this time it's me doing the convincing and not Rose. Jesus, how did time fly so quickly?

"Oh, he likes me alright. I felt it when we danced. On stage. In front of everyone. He was harder than a—," I throw a pillow at her before she can even finish that sentence! She bursts out laughing and I have to try even harder to stifle my giggle.

Swatting her arm, I let my laugh out, "Charlie!!," I cackle along with her as both of our stitches come undone in a fit of laughter.

"I'm still your mother!," I barely scold her. She's an adult. I really don't mind— ugh, my baby girl— okay, no, she's about to be a mother. We can talk like this.