Chapter title: live so that you may live.
The year was off to an unbelievable start, Charlie concluded the morning after. He woke up, sober despite the champagne he had been drinking. It had been a dreamless night even if he felt the psychogenic pain still pick at his skin. But his legs worked. They had been working every morning since that episode in the lab. The thought made his mind move its focus from how well he felt this morning to why he felt this way.
Only to come out short on answers
Either way, Charlie felt over the moon. He decided to let the matter be for now, basking in the warmth surrounding him. People were most alive right before death as they said and if he was nearing the end, he better not dwell on it. For what time he had left, he'd make the most out of it. He turned his head, seeing Menat fast asleep right next to him.
Nothing out of the ordinary, except the rush of warmth that washed over him when he looked at her. Her lips were partly opened with strains of hair stuck to their corners.
The joyous events of the night and bottles of champagne made her delightfully tipsy and unaware of her own surroundings. When they had returned to the Palace of Mysteries and her bedroom, she took off her clothes and tossed them aside before dancing around and collapsing onto the bed soon after.
Nothing happened but the sight of her almost unclad body running around her room was amusing and titillating all the same, sending shameless heat and want through Charlie's body. The memory of which caused his gut to swirl a bit. She looked as soft as Charlie had imagined but now, he began to imagine how she'd appear …in stages of undress. To watch her reaction while he peeled off each piece of clothing…
Christ, he was being shameless. He shook the thought aside, sitting up lest his body shot blood to his other head. If the prospect of Menat wanting to try certain things was waiting for him, he'd no doubt indulge, despite the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't such a good idea. Never mind that, Menat probably didn't find him all that physically attractive.
There was a world of difference between affection and sex. So, Charlie would have little to offer her in case he managed to get her into sleeping with – not next to – him. Still anxious about the creature he had become, it left him without an idea of what to do with her. His imagination had almost fed him the delusion that he could please her, for lack of a better word, but could he really?
He knew that he yearned after her but to put it into practice seemed herculean. Yet, Charlie was human once. He had seen and been with women before. Dead or not, such instincts didn't just up and left. When or if the time ever came, he at least had the knowledge and desire to please her. That should suffice.
Quietly, he slipped out of the bed and gathered his clothes from the nightstand. Unlike Menat, he had been level-headed enough to fold them before he joined her under the covers. On his way, he made sure to pick the skirt and shirt from the floor and fold them.
First was the bathroom to brush away the faded taste and dead fizz of champagne. Then was the kitchen to wash it all down. Soon, Charlie sat alone in the kitchen, staring into his mug of tea.
The mug that Rose had given him was a black one with "Don't talk to me, I'm tired" written on it in white. Charlie wasn't really, not today but for some mild fun, he took to the mug.
At times like these, he wondered if he should give up on his coffee defiance and just see if he could stand the stuff again. At times like these, he wondered what had occurred during those three days. He wasn't desperate for answers; the changes to his body were the only good thing they had done for him. Though Charlie wished it didn't include kidnapping.
Through the doorway of the kitchen, Menat stepped in, blinking in the morning light and beaming an absolutely dazzling smile. Even when tired and half-asleep, she remained undoubtedly beautiful, radiant, and almost untouchable. She sat in the chair across the table and then leaned forward, humming a yawn while the sunlight brushed against strains of her hair.
"Hello…" she smiled, dazed. Charlie raised a brow at this but was pleased by her presence. "Hey. You should go back to bed."
"Mm, I can't when you're not already up and about," she yawned again and lay over the table. Quite the opposite of "up and about".
"Right well. You're practically half asleep."
"Yes but no," she shrugged, then stood up and snatched his mug. "Let me make you a treat."
Before Charlie could think of saying how, what, and no, she poured the tea and set the new water to a boil. Meanwhile, she pulled ingredients from the fridge and cupboards alongside a second mug. On it, ''Cloudy like my heart'' was written – whatever that meant. Before long, she put the two mugs on the table and sat down. As it turned out, she had made hot chocolate and coffee with chocolate syrup and marshmallows. Not a bad choice for the cold of winter. And it tasted pretty good.
Like the child she occasionally reverted to, Menat delighted in her treat, humming and sipping while she licked the creamy mustache off her upper lip. She had gone all out with whipped cream, marshmallows, chocolate syrup, and cocoa powder, savoring every sip with absolute bliss. Charlie liked to watch her happy although now, he felt shame dent his merry observations.
Courtesy of his lewd thoughts from earlier. The way she'd flick her tongue against the rim of the cup to catch residue cream only served to make Charlie's gut tighten. He became unfortunately certain that the wanton ideas that'd spring up every now and then wouldn't stop until he left the realm of uncertainty and found out if she wanted him too or not.
He had however earned her affection somehow and that would forever make him happy. Oblivious to the thoughts of the man in front of her, Menat hummed happily and sat back. Watching her content with life, being content himself, Charlie felt happy for the first time in a while.
He could live like this forever.
When the Palace of Mysteries opened its doors to customers again, there was a whole host of people desperate for their fortunes to be read to them. Anxious about the future, anxious about love, money, the whole nine yards. As the designated water boy, Charlie remained hidden in the basement, occasionally ascending to fill the water pitchers, ignoring the sting of apprehension he felt whenever around the strangers.
Without hoods and masks, but plenty of concealers, he looked conspicuous, and no one paid attention to him. Occasionally a woman or two would look his way and he'd scurry away, pretending to be busy. Thus, the day passed like that until the lobby was completely empty by afternoon. Charlie was about to pack the pitchers away when he was stopped by Menat waving him over from one of the "fortune rooms" as Maggio called it.
"Wanna sit in for the last session?" she asked, and Charlie hesitated a bit but agreed, somewhat flattered at the offer. Mostly because it was the first time, he had watched a full-on session. Menat vanished behind the curtains, speaking to someone before pulling them apart for Charlie to enter.
In the cramped room, there was a table covered in a cloth with Menat's crystal ball on top of it and two chairs, one of which was occupied by a middle-aged man, looking Charlie up and down. Aside from faint fairy lights, the room was dimly lit, probably for atmospheric reasons.
"This is my apprentice. I hope you don't mind me inviting him in for a session," Menat gestured at Charlie and the man stared for a few moments before he nodded. And soon the session began.
Menat, for all her quirks, was frighteningly professional when doing readings for strangers. There was a professional cadence and objective seriousness in the way she spoke about her visions and interpretations. She seemed like a whole different person. It was as jarring as it was fascinating. She did not have the air of natural mystique and otherworldly grace that Rose had, no doubt from years of divination, but she was special in her own right.
It made Charlie wonder how he'd react if Menat had employed this persona when they initially met. There was a part of him that felt he couldn't be so receptive if she acted as frozen as she was warm. The thought of the two sides to one woman passed the time of the session and before Charlie was aware of it, the man had left and paid the money, leaving with a nervous goodbye – but not taking his plastic cup with him.
Soon, Charlie was left alone with Menat as she tidied the place up and polished her crystal ball. It wasn't even that smudged but the thing meant quite a lot to her, hence why she took so much care of it. Having cleaned the crystal ball spotless, Menat turned to face Charlie with a ghosting grin on her lips. "So, could you ever consider doing divination?"
"Under no circumstances. I…" he began, feeling the blush over his face on account of his coming admission. "Zoned out for most of it while thinking how different you can be."
The compliment momentarily stunned her before pride glowed on her face. Her eagerness at the comment eroded the serious persona she had tried to put forth. "Thank you! Aprile says I could become a method actor if I so desired."
That would be quite a sight to behold.
Charlie hummed with conviviality, closing his eyes for a bit, only vaguely aware of Menat looming closer, silent like a shadow. When he was about to open his eyes again, he felt her lips pressed against his. Just for a moment, she paused before kissing him again, resting her warm hands against his chest and he felt his insides quiver with a rush of heat that pooled in his gut. They were alone and there were no new customers, so if they so did want to…
But also, there was only a curtain, separating them from Rose and Maggio, and the discomfort of potentially getting walked in on tempered the white-hot searing need for affection and physical closeness. If they had to do this, it should be under a special atmosphere.
When Charlie looked at Menat again, her cheeks were dark crimson. The shade of her skin masked it well but their darkened, faintly rouge color made her emotions quite clear. That, if the incredibly skittish smile on her face wasn't telling enough. Her hands remained on his chest and ever so slightly, she bit her lip as she looked down, musing on perhaps something similarly explorative.
What Menat was exactly thinking didn't become clear until her hands trailed further down, skating over his waist, and then resting on his hips. Charlie remembered her rant from some time ago about why people should just talk to each other when it came to interpersonal relationships and in hindsight, he felt silly about stressing over what-ifs and do-not.
If he had just talked to her, he could have spared himself several nights of shame. All the signs were there when he thought about it. And now, standing with her here, he regretted not taking up the talk of intimacy with her, especially now when she showed interest.
"Maybe not here…" Charlie managed to say, willing to deny himself this chance of instant, easy satisfaction. Menat paused for a moment, her eyes widening, lucid within seconds. Instantly she retracted her hands and folded them in her lap.
"O-oh, of course!" she nodded and bit her lip.
It was hard not to feel the radiation of interest from her. For the time that was left of the day, Charlie would curb his enthusiasm until the time was right and when feelings and boundaries were ready to be explored. And then afterward, when alone in their leisure time, with one becoming more comfortable with the other, he wouldn't mind getting bolder; kissing her awake, touching her every now and then, preferably without Rose or Maggio looking.
Menat shifted a bit where she stood. "I wonder how we're gonna explain this to everyone – in case they find out. Except for Guile."
Yes. Guile had been the one to set things in motion, excessively nagging once he found out about Charlie's feelings. Even in the letters he sent, he alluded to it while also bringing up how Charlie was the wingman during the courting of Julia. According to Guile, it was just ''returning the favor''.
Heaven forbid he found out the result of that favor.