xv. SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN!( SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN!
( SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY. )








   CHARLIE TOOK HER to the end of the sidewalk and looked around. Jo could see that he was trying to think of something to do, somewhere to take her.

"What if we went to that hill across from the soccer field and looked at the stars?" Charlie asked, pointing into the darkness.

"I didn't peg you as the stargazing type," Joan commented, "Seems a little above your pay grade."

"Hey! I can be romantic y'know," he defended, carefully and gently grabbing her hand again and leading her through the field. Once they reached the hill, Charlie immediately laid down and stared up at the sky. Joan laid down next to him. The walls of trees blocked the chilly breeze for the most part. Charlie was right, she really could see the stars wonderfully. The sky was clear and alive that night.

"Think about it like this," Charlie began, turning his head to look at Jo. Jo turned to look at him too, "No, no, keep looking at the sky," he prompted. "Okay, now stop thinking about it like you're looking up, just think about it like you're looking out. Think about how the only thing holding you to Earth is the force of gravity and how you're really just another star, the same as them," Charlie described as he pointed at the clusters of white light.

"Woah," Jo breathed, "That feels cool."

"I know," Charlie grinned, still staring at Jo. "Were you named after Joan of Arc?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, actually," she nodded, "My parents are the most catholic people you will ever meet, or so they say," Jo explained.

"I'd say it fits you," Charlie said. "I was just named after my grandfather. Did you know that makes me Charles the third? I sound like a goddamn prince," he grinned.

"I'd say you're a prince, maybe not technically, but in the ways that count," Jo stated.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the flatterer," Charlie pouted, but it was really just a cover up for his beating heart.

"Fine by me," Joan said. Just then she looked to her side. "Stop looking at me and look at the stars," she ordered, turning away from him sheepishly.

"I've got the whole universe right here," he smirked, brushing a hair behind her ear. Jo let a smile crack before regaining her disposition.

"That was awful," she laughed, looking back at Charlie's wind bitten cheeks and nose.

"What? I'd say that was pretty good," he grinned. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I saw a smile, and bonus points because you laughed!"

"I only laughed because of how bad it was," she claimed, sitting up.

"Whatever you say Saint Joan of Arc," Charlie sat up too, pinching her cheek.

"Whatever points you gained by that cheesy pickup line have now been lost by calling me Saint Joan of Arc," Jo giggled, pinching his cheek back.

"Maybe this could make up for it," Charlie thought for a moment before opening his mouth again. He laid Jo's head down on his lap and kissed her forehead.

"She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

Jo smiled and closed her eyes, letting him continue.

"One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place."

Charlie had memorized all three stanzas, but he would never take the time to memorize a timeline for history class. Jo smiled softly as the words flowed out of his mouth. Charlie stroked her cheek gently and she was afraid she would fall asleep right there.

"And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!"

Just as she felt herself drifting off, Charlie began to recite a poem that she didn't recognize, it certainly wasn't one she'd ever read.

"She sits on rainy riverbanks,
On battered stones in reverie,
Perhaps I was deserving,
Of the unfriendly stares,
I never thought she'd dream of me
and I pretended I didn't care.

Caves, paint, lipstick, gods
all played a part in her unbearable charm,"

"Unbearable?" Jo laughed.

"Poems, skirts, music, haste,
perhaps played part in mine
I don't know how it happened;
But to kiss her was divine."

Once he finished, Jo looked up at him, not really sure what to say. "That was beautiful," she decided, still trying to take it in, "Did you write that?"

"It was written by some prince," Charlie stated.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, about the one and only Joan of Arc. It's quite a famous story actually, I'm surprised you haven't heard it. You see, the prince didn't know a lot about rhyme and meter, and maybe wasn't the best at writing, but he did put in the effort."

"Now that you mention it, that does sound familiar," she smiled, taking her head off his lap. "But the way I know it, the prince was a very talented poet. If a poem was perfect, I think it would be a little boring." Charlie handed her a piece of paper with the poem written on it in sloppy handwriting, but she could tell he tried.

"Thank you," she whispered, pecking his cheek.

"I think I should be the one thanking you, for giving me a second chance and all."

"Don't worry, I'd rather just forget about that," Joan stood up, holding out her hand for Charlie.

"Me too," he sighed. They started walking back to the school, it was too cold to sleep outside. Otherwise, one could be sure they would've. Jo didn't want the night to end. She squeezed his hand as they reached the doors and slipped inside.

"See you later Prince Charles the third," Jo whispered, giggling softly, when they parted ways.

"Sweet dreams Joan of Arc," he blew her a quick kiss before turning around to head to his dormitory.








AUTHOR'S NOTE.
  𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒎.

This was a short chapter but I felt
like it needed its own. I hope you
enjoyed this, I don't know how
romantic Charlie would actually be
but in my mind this seems entirely
plausible. She Walks In Beauty has
to be one of my favourite poems,
so had to integrate it into here
somehow.

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