Chapter Thirteen –

Charlie

'This way.' Charlie kept held of my hand, until we were out of the dense forest.

I kept stumbling and tripping and falling, but with Charlie there, I never fell far.

Once we were out of the forest, I was able to see that the sun was just about to rise. A old, beat up car was parked outside, and Charlie finally let go of my hand, taking some keys out of his pocket.

'You need a ride?' he asked, turning to check on me.

I gulped, and said: 'Er, yeah, sure.'

He nodded. 'Hop in.'

He unlocked the doors and I slid into the seat.

Charlie fiddled with the radio as and was revving the car up to go. once we had started up, he pulled away from the trees and began driving down a long rocky road.

It became clear that he was a very talkative person straight away.

'Where to?' he asked, like a cabbie.

'Erm…the nearest hotel, if you don't mind.' I smiled at him shyly, ducking my head.

'You sure?' he said, taking his eyes off the road to stare at me.

'Yeah.' I was suddenly very tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

No one expects to chuck a boat load of information at a 23 year old, send her to London to a broken children's home, get some more info, get on a plane to Romania, sit around on the ground, get chased by a dog, almost gets killed by a dragon…and NOT BE TIRED.

Charlie was still looking at me, and my eyes drooped. They just couldn't stay open anymore. It was like Mr. Sandman was jumping up and down on my eyelids, making them slide down further and further…

Before I knew it, my breathing had slowed and deepened, and I was asleep.

--

it was dark when I next opened my eyes. From what I'd guessed, I'd probably fell asleep very early in the morning. But I must have slept for hours.

Like I didn't need it.

I sat up slightly and stared around the room. It was very dark (the curtains were closed, Doy) but had some low lights on in lamps around the corners of the room.

I was on a droopy three seat sofa, that was long enough so that I could stretch out fully without my feet dangling off the end. Opposite 'my' sofa, there was a twin. Between the two sofas, to the side, was a very small, very old, TV.

In the middle was a battered coffee table, with many ring marks and scuff from where people's shoes had been. Actually, there was battered furniture everywhere.

A small bookcase, a cabinet, very battered. Cupboards and doors, battered.

All in all, it was a scruffy place.

Hell, I didn't even know where I was.

My hand trailed up to my hair, which I scrunched up. It needed washing. And brushing.

Behind the twin sofa, a (battered) door opened and a (scruffy) man came out.

His hair was sticking up, making him look like a teenager. he was wearing a white vest and red boxer shorts.

He was tall, and had to duck to fit through the doorframe; his shoulders filled it.

His hand was scrunching up his hair like I was.

'Alright?' Charlie said, walking toward the kitchen.

'Yeah.' I answered, sitting u fully and leaning back against the back of the sofa.

'Cuppa?' he asked, rattling around in cupboards and pulling out 2 mugs.

'Sure.'

I guess I'm in Charlie's flat, then.

'Here you go.' Charlie handed me a Muppet's mug, and settled down into the opposite sofa, sipping his tea.

I brought the mug to my lips, and took a giant gulp. My tongue was instantly on fire.

'Thansss.' I said, placing the cup on the table.

'No prob.'

There was silence for a few minutes as we sipped and gulped.

'How did I get here?' I said, blunt as always.

He cradled his mug, swilling the dregs at the bottom. 'I carried you.' He looked up at me and grinned.

I smiled back.

'You had passed out in the car, and I didn't want to leave you in a hotel. So I carried you up here. By the way, the lift's broken and this flat is on the top floor.' He kept grinning and stared into his mug.

I felt a blush rising in my cheeks, and looked into my mug too. 'Thanks.' I mumbled.

We looked up at each other at the same time and smiled.

'No prob.' He said again.