Sitting up on the roof and seeing the stars became a once a week meeting place for the two. Napoleon never got tired of seeing Charlotte so happy and hearing her point out each shape or constitute; he saw how overjoyed she was when she saw Gemini, her birth sign.
When they weren't on the roof, they would spend the night talking; never anything specific, they just talked. Charlotte was content with how attentive he was.
They hadn't spoken about the heart that had appeared their first night upstairs; frankly they didn't need to, in their minds anyway.
One night three weeks later, Charlotte had woken up to a searing pain in her chest and she knew what it was that caused the pain. Her family, she missed them.
Her older brother, Huns. With his short blond hair slightly sticking up in the back; his green eyes always seemed to sparkle when he looked at her.
Her mother; kind and welcoming. Often sending Huns out to look for her to make sure she didn't get into any kind of trouble.
Her father; the strong, resilient but always gentle man. During the war, he helped harbor slaves in their home before pointing them north. They knew just how much they were risking in this action but they didn't want to see these innocent men, women and children be treated as animals.
Charlotte felt something cold run down the side of her face and blinked and felt it again. She reached up to touch her cheek and found streaks of dampness there. Tears. Then she heard boot-covered footsteps approach her and looking towards the sound, saw Napoleon standing there. She tried to wipe the tears away but he had already seen them. Without a word, he helped her out of the crate and sat her against a neighboring one before sitting beside her.
"You are homesick," Napoleon said; Charlotte nodded, still not looking at him. Napoleon gently turned her face to look at him. "I know how it feels to miss the ones you love, there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about or miss my son."
"Your son?" Charlotte asked. Napoleon nodded, turned his gaze to the floor.
"He was the only child I had that I properly acknowledged; when I was exiled he was only four years old. An age where he would not remember me; I assume he grew up resenting me for never being there." Napoleon sighed and leaned his head back against the crate, staring at the ceiling.
"I never had a child," said Charlotte. "I died before my 30th birthday." Napoleon nodded, turning to look at her.
"What family do you miss, if you never married and had children?" He asked. Charlotte smiled and looked at the floor.
"My brother," She said. "He was older than me and he was my constant, ever-present guardian." Charlotte laughed a little. "Our mother would always tell him "Go and find your sister." or "Make sure Charlotte hasn't gotten into any kind of trouble."" Napoleon sat up a little straighter, looking amused.
"Oh, so you were a mischief maker you were young." He said with a laugh. Charlotte's smile widened slightly.
"In a way, you could say that." She blushed slightly and shook her head, trying not to laugh.
"What, do you remember something?" Napoleon asked. Charlotte nodded.
"When I was twelve years old; I stole my brother's clothes, put them on and climbed up a tree." Napoleon started at her, eyes wide and a smile creeping up his face.
"Did you really?" He said; Charlotte nodded, the blush visible darkening. "Did you get caught?" Charlotte shook her head, giggling.
"My parents and brother were looking everywhere but up the tree and I was up there for at least an hour. I snuck back into the house, changed back into my clothes and put his back. I sat in a chair in the kitchen until my parents and brother came back." Napoleon laughed.
"What was your excuse when they asked you where you were?" He asked.
"I told them I was with a friend and just got back." Said Charlotte.
"And that was that?" Napoleon asked, Charlotte nodded, still smiling. "You are a clever one."
"Either that or my family didn't bother asking me for more details." Said Charlotte dryly. "But, I was tired of being stuck in the house all the time with my mother; as much as I love her, I wanted to be outside with my brother more. I wanted to explore the woods by my house, climb every tree I saw, go swimming in the lake. But 'that's not ladylike.'" She added sourly, mimicking the voice of a slightly older woman. Napoleon glanced at Charlotte, feeling a twinge of sympathy for her.
"You were not content with the life that seemed to lay in front of you, you went to find something better. There is nothing wrong with that way of thinking; it shows an excitement to see the world around you." Charlotte smiled as she stared at the floor.
"According to my aunt; girls my age should be in the house, helping their mothers but I never could. She wanted me to go and live with her for a year." Napoleon's eyebrows were all but disappeared underneath his hat as his eyes widened in shock.
"Did you go?" He asked, Charlotte shook her head.
"My father put a stop to it before the couch arrived, sent a letter ahead with the diver and I was free of that." Napoleon smiled slightly.
"He sounds like he was a brave man." He said, Charlotte nodded.
"He was, he taught Huns, my brother and I the meaning of strength, resilience and respect. My family harbored escaping slaves at our home during the war, which was to them a safe house.
Father kept an old lantern lite in the upstairs window,"
"As a beckon?" Said Napoleon. Charlotte nodded. "And what is this war you speak of?"
"America fought against itself, North against South. Hardly anyone was spared from seeing some of the carnage." Charlotte sighed and stared at the opposite wall. "We were far enough away from any battlefield, but you could hear the gunshots from miles away.
We had a small hatch in the main room that led to a cellar where we would hide the escaped slaves if there were slave hunters nearby.
My brother was born a year before the war broke out so he saw a lot of people in the house every other night. Even when the fighting stopped, there were still slaves seeking shelter there with us; I was a month old when I saw my first slave. An expectant mother herself, she had asked my mother to hold me. Of course my mother told her she could, and the young woman just held me. My mother told me that the girl said to her, "My baby's gonna be born in freedom." And said she hoped her child would be as beautiful as she said I was." Napoleon smiled.
"You and your family risked so much and you gained something wonderful in return. Piece of mind and bravery in the face of danger." He looked at Charlotte with sincerity in his eyes. "And I also think you're beautiful." Charlotte blushed a bright rosy red and hid her face in her hands, giggling uncontrollably.
"And you, my friend, are a charmer." She said. Napoleon chuckled.
"You make me sound like Al." He said with an exaggerated shutter. "You cruel American." Charlotte looked at him, a playful smile in place.
"You wound me sir," she said, placing a dramatic hand on her chest as though she had been shot. "I shall never heal from this." Napoleon rolled his eyes good-naturedly, smiling.
"Please forgive me," He said, playing along with her game. "for I mean no disrespect. If there is a way for my grievous deed to be forgotten, then I shall see to it that it is done."
"Nothing could ever make the pain of it go away, you have hurt me so." And she slumped over on her side. Napoleon stared at her for a moment then looked at the wall again and said,
"Sit up." Charlotte lifted her head to look at him.
"Why?"
"Just sit up, for heaven sake." She frowned but did as asked. They were silent for a while but it was a good quiet, just enjoying the other's company was more than enough for either of them.