5.
It has been four weeks since Bass fell asleep on her couch. It has been four weeks since memories hidden in a night in front of her fireplace and his honest gratitude moved them into something new without changing who they were from the start.
Charlie had a long day. Trying to adjust to life after war and years of travelling and fighting is hard. The promise of rain that starts to fill the air around her makes her shiver without truly realizing it. She is cold, even though the night sky is humid. She feels empty although her past and her demons are keeping her company. She is walking through the streets of Willoughby. She could go home. She doesn't want to. She doesn't want to see Aaron or Connor even although she knows they take good care of her heart. She doesn't want to see Miles because her own hurt inside of him hurts too much. So she keeps on walking until the intensity of familiar eyes finds her in the middle of her thoughts. And in between the cold and the desolate everything that swirls inside of her, she all of a sudden knows where she is going.
When Charlotte shows up at his place, Bass can't hide the rush of warmth inside of his chest. It has been four weeks since he woke up on her couch at dawn with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders that smelled like her. They have seen each other since that morning. They have shared bottles of whiskey. Alone. With Connor. With Miles. But they haven't talked about that one night he spend at her place. They don't have to. Charlotte seems to understands a part of him that he can barely acknowledge or understand himself. He doesn't know why and how, but she just does. That's her. That's Charlotte.
One look at her standing in front of him surrounded by the night and Bass can sense her loneliness and hurt. She barely meets his eyes. The fact that she struggling and here and she did not go to his brother, stay puft or Connor should not mean so much. But it fucking does.
When Bass opens his front door, the intensity of the blue of his eyes crashes straight through her hurt. He doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't expect her to talk. They both know everything that happened before, is still there. But right here and right now he only sees her and what she needs. She can't hide it from him. A part of her wishes she doesn't need him the way she does. Another part of her is finally ready to be here. She bites her bottom lip. She needs male strength and warm skin and the taste of sweat on her lips that will make her forget about everything she can't carry with her now. She needs his strength. She needs his warmth and intensity. She needs him to be with her the way he fights and lives his life. She needs Monroe. Their eyes meet. The blue in his eyes is sharp and everything. His shoulders are wide, his look is broody and deep while he doesn't let go of her with his eyes. She walks inside and before she can open her mouth it is just him and her, inside his living room. Before she can let out another breath the warmth of his hand finds her skin. His chest is close and touches the curves of her breasts. Bass curses inside his own head before he pulls her closer. He can't fucking stop himself. He wraps his hand around her face. He waits. She leans into his touch. Her skin feels cold and he can sense the cool air from outside around her.
When his mouth covers hers, it's almost too much. A low deep moan filled with want and hurt hidden deep inside of her escapes from her mouth. Charlie feels the heavy weight of his arm around her back. Her body is connected to his endless tall body and his hard, wide chest.
Bass lets her kiss her the way she only can, filled with angry fire and strength and stubbornness before he catches her and slows her down. He knows what she wants but he also knows she will never ask him for it. Hell, he doesn't want her to ask for it. Not her. Not Charlotte. So he kisses her and tastes her and moves his arms around her to keep her where he needs her. He knows how hard those long lonely nights that follow endless grey days are. He knows all about the place she is living her life in. He also knows her being here means she is hurting like hell. He knows her struggle. But she is still here. And he will give her everything she needs.
When he lets go of her with his mouth, he doesn't ask questions. He just soaks her up with his eyes. Her eyes are filled with everything he has buried deep inside of him and that he tries to fight every fucking day. She moves her hands around his neck. Her legs move around his middle while he walks them both to his bed room. His hands move to her thighs. Charlie can feel how ready and hard and willing to soak her up he is against the soft warmth of her core. It's dark and warm inside his bedroom. When he moves her onto his bed, his eyes never let go of her. Her fingers move over his stubble and the line of his jaw. He kisses her. He slowly undresses her while her fingers move to the fabric of his shirt and the button of his jeans until it is just them and warmth against warmth. She closes her eyes when his mouth finds the soft place between her breasts. He tastes the rain on her skin. His harsh breathing mixes with her soft moans. It's powerful and new and dangerous to feel him so close to her. But she needs him. All of him. All of Bass. Here. With her.
The world outside doesn't matter anymore. The rain flows against his windows. There is thunder in the air. But she can only take in his scent. She can only feel the way his muscles work while he keeps touching her. And just like that, she lets go. She gives in. His strong, wide thighs connect with the warmth of her skin while she whispers his name in the dark. She can feel the effect of his name escaping from his lips in the way he claims her with his mouth while his name still lingers in the darkness of the living room. Bass kisses her hungrily. The moment she gives in, the moment she gives in to him and what he is giving her is like taking a damn bullet. Her name fills his head, the softness and warmth of her skin is everywhere while wet warmth and her in his damn bed is all that he fucking needs.
Bass looks at her, asleep in his arms and warm in his bed. He did not ask her to stay. She did not leave. The warmth of her body radiates towards his skin. He wants to kiss and taste and fill her again. He wants to touch her. But he also doesn't want to wake her up. He needs her to stay. Here. With him.
When the sun finally comes up and makes the rain move to a place where it can't touch them, it brushes her face and her shoulder. It touches the curves of her body, hidden under his blankets. He presses a kiss in her hair before he falls asleep again. Charlie mumbles something in her sleep and without realizing he pulls her closer in his sleep.
The first morning light flows through his bedroom and hallway before it finds a picture on his kitchen table standing in the living room. The gentle light brushes the smiles of the people on the picture, his parents, his sisters, Ben and Miles, his family, and the memories locked safely inside, a picture that is a part of they both are now, who they were and who they will be tomorrow.
The End