Charming

Charlie and Amelia were happy.
Until he left her... only to return four years later.

Will she stay with her boyfriend?
Or go back to her Prince Charming?

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2. • Prologue •

Prologue.

"You cut your hair." She stated with a deep breath as she watched the man in front of her. With a sigh and a pained expression painted on his face, he ran a hand through his now short hair.

"I had to," he whispered and sent her a weak smile. A smile that didn't even begin to describe the feeling he had deep inside of him. 

Pain. That's all he felt those days. The utter feeling of the deepest despair and pain. 

The inevitable is always going to come at some point. It's in the word; inevitable. That's why he knew when he had to cut his hair. He used to have the longest, most beautiful hair. That's what she said to him the night he lost the last piece of innocence that a man can hold, and she holds on to that piece to this day. 

"Where...- where were you, Charlie?" She asked with a tremor in her voice, and she looked up at him with glossy eyes and a single tear sliding down her red-tinted cheek. Without thinking further, he reached forward and with the tip of his thumb, caught the tear before it could drip onto the floor, but she flinched at his touch, and it pained him.

He couldn't tell her. He knew he had to, but he couldn't. It was like a big cloud was fogging his brain, making him unable to think coherently. But one thing he knew; he couldn't tell her. It would break her, and he wouldn't be able to endure that. It would break him too, more than any secret ever could. 

"I...- my mum, she uh - she got a job in America, and she had to go... so I went with," it wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. He feared that he would never be able to tell the entire truth before it was too late. 

But still, he couldn't tell her. 

The water in the stream was shining in the moonlight, and there was a slight breeze, blowing her hair in every possible direction. There was no one but them around, and they relished in the feeling of being close again. 

Close again, yet so far away. 

"You - you just left, Charlie. Without a goodbye, without a word...- one minute you were there, the next you were just gone!" She had tears running down her cheeks by now, and her breathing hitched. He looked at the broken girl before him; looking at how her eyes had lost their colour.

He knew though, that he was the cause of it. No one, but him. He had no one else but himself to blame. For how her face had angered when she saw him step through the doors in the café where she worked. How she had cried when he followed her home that day and tried to hold her hand. How she had expressed her pure hatred towards him when he told her how much he loved her. 

He also knew how selfish it was of him to come back after so long time, asking for a second chance, even though he wouldn't be able to enjoy her company for much longer. He knew how selfish it was of him to stop everything and come back for one last sliver of sunshine. 

But he craved her. He craved her laughter. He craved the feeling of her lips pressed against his; a feeling that he was growing anxious that he might've forgotten if he had stayed away any longer. He craved her touch; the way only she could make him feel.

He might've been selfish, but he couldn't go another day without her; knowing that she hated him, but knew that she secretly loved him. He was selfish for leaving and not returning any of her calls. He was selfish for coming back and asking for her forgiveness. 

He was selfish for loving her, and for having to let her go. 

He had broken the girl he loved the most, and this was his price. But he knew then, that he was finally willing to pay it. 

He was ready to face all of his mistakes, though hoping that she would accompany him through every little step. Hoped that she would be there to help him blow the grey clouds away; the ones that had been hanging over his head from the day he watched her face when he drove away, blocking all sunshine. 

He hoped that she would let him help, too. Help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart, and if she ever were to cut her on the sharp pieces, he would help her with the bandages. 

He hoped that she knew that he would do everything in his power for her to let him back into her life, even though it only might be for a short time. But oh, would he do anything. He would fly to the moon and back if he could, and take a star with him to give her. He would wrap a rope around the sun and pull it closer to her if only to keep her warmer when soon, he wouldn't be able to. 

Anything she could ever ask for, he would waste no time to do it. 

For that's what you do when you love someone as dearly as he loved her. He loved the way her eyes crinkled when she was laughing. He loved the one dimple on her left cheek, that only showed when she was smiling her hardest. He loved the way she wasn't afraid to be who she was. He loved how her eyes lit up when she was talking about something she was passionate about. He loved the scent of sweet apple that her hair carried; a scent that he could never forget, and one that would always be hers. But most of all;

He loved her.

For all of eternity, and a little more.

 

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