~sixteen~

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Mood: Frustrated, Flustered

~~~~~~~

Feeling empty would make anyone feel unsure — like anything could change for the better or worse but, optimistically, that there was always the possibility to forget about the bad things and move on. For the past couple of minutes, Charles just sat on the other side of the bed. He didn't want to see you so upset, but he didn't have much to say.

"(Y/n)?"

"Hm?" 

When he didn't reply, you looked over at him. The smile on his face was anything but condemning. It made you feel comfortable, but too much so. 

He was an unpredictable person and possibly a danger. Even though you wanted to, trusting him was a tricky deal.

"I need you to do something for me, okay?"

"We'll see." 

"(Y/n), the fact that you were so easily stolen at that party scares me." 

Hands crossed over your chest, Charles glided over this thin ice as lightly as he could.

"I want to make sure that you're always safe, and I can't be sure of that with you in this room."

"What are you saying? You want to trap me in this room with more guards who want to kill me?"

The bedroom door opened, revealing four or five burly men. That must have been Charles' cue, because he grabbed onto your upper arm and dragged you off the bed with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Just changing your scenery is all."

"Charles, where am I going?"

His grip on your arm became a little tighter as the two of you, followed by the men, moved out into the hallway. He quickened his pace slightly. 

"Just shut up and trust me."

Your stomach sank, fearful of the changes that he might have in store.

~~~~

"What is this, Charles?" 

In front of you, the door looked no different than the prison you had been held in before. You had walked some distance from you other room, but you found yourself wondering about what made this room in particular so special to him.

"Come in and make yourself at home."

He opened the door and disappeared into the room. You cautiously followed. Inside, it wasn't much different than your room. Perhaps it was a little bigger and had a few more decor options hanging from the walls. There was a bed to your left, the sheets and comforters on it matching the shade of the maroon on the walls. 

It wasn't much of a change, but the tiny details were something like a breath of fresh air.

"All of your rooms here seem to have some sort of elegance to them. I feel like I should consider it dull, but I don't."

"I'm glad you like it. This is your new room, after all."

"That's the change of scenery then?" He nodded, "Why move me to another room that's almost identical?"

His fingers glided across your hair gently, a shiver running down your spine. Was it a good or bad one?, "I can't protect you if you're stuck in that room."

You breathed deeply, ignoring the heat that was left by his fingers, "Why here?"

He walked over and sat on the bed, hands folded together. 

"So you and I can stay in the same room."

Charles' smile showed patience—something that you weren't currently experiencing, "This way, I have easy access to you. So, I'll be right there if you're in danger."

You laughed nervously, "Charles, I can take care of myself."

"Last time I thought that, Enrique went into your room and tried to hurt you. If I wouldn't have been there when I was, he would have done a lot of damage — maybe even killed you." He explained, getting up off of the bed and walking over to you.

"No, no," You backed up a little, "I can handle it! You don't have to worry about me." 'Please believe me, please.'

"(Y/n), I won't let you get hurt again." He stated, his sentence more of a demand than a concern. He stepped forward, and with a few more steps backwards, your back was against the wall.

"I promise that nothing will happen! I like my old room better anyways. Charles, I —"

You were cut off as Charles's lips kissed your forehead, making your skin turn a feverish red. Silence covered the room.

Although it was a quick affection, he continued by putting his hands against your cheeks. The two of you could do nothing but look into the other's eyes, expectant.

"Stop thinking so much. Make yourself at home." 

He quickly left the room and locked the door behind him, leaving you only with questions and what felt like a broken spirit. Your eyes followed the pattern of the room, the walls closing in on you.

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