Just wanted to say once again, thank you so much for sticking with the story and for always being so kind in your reviews. I enjoyed writing this, A LOT, and will continue to write for this beautiful pairing.

Epilogue II: Gaps in History

Part 1 – The Night of 2025

Charlie ran as fast as she could, stumbling on her dress a few times before making it out into the garden. She turned to find that Miles was nowhere to be found and her chest got pummeled by the realization that he'd been aware of her mother's entrapment.

The sound of heavy footsteps made her heart beat uncontrollably. The cold breeze outside had already dried up the tears that had been streaming down her face.

"Charlotte." Bass' voice was commanding.

She turned, an expression of confidence and bravery on her face. "Where's Miles?" It was a simple question but it was layered with a demand to learn more.

"Look, I don't know what you think I've done to your mom but I can assure you that it's not what it looks like." He tried to explain.

"Where is Miles?" She repeated, not caring for his version of the story.

Bass closed in on her, making her retreat until her feet inadvertently stepped off the paved walkway and into the snow. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. Any chances of getting to know her were slipping away like water through his fingers. He rubbed his chin, exasperation taking a hold of him.

"He went to find Rachel." He spoke loudly, "We need her if we ever want to turn the power back on."

Charlie scoffed, "That's all you care about, isn't it?" Her eyes were accusatory, "Power."

There was a switch in him that was threatening to flip, he wasn't used to people talking to him like that and this girl certainly wasn't going to be the exception. "Tone down your insolence, don't forget who you're speaking to."

She laughed, "You're nothing but a lonely man with delusions of glory." This time it was her who got close to him, "Is that why you brought me here? Was one Matheson not enough for you?"

The switch flipped. Bass took a hold of her arm with brute force. "I said to watch your mouth." Charlie's breathing began to intensify but she wasn't about to let fear show on her face. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Charlie moved against his grasp. "I know that the man I danced with in there was nothing but a mask." She said, "This. This is the real Sebastian Monroe, right?" His face tilted, dark blue eyes fixated on hers. "I don't know what kind of thing you, Miles and my mom have going on but I want no part of it. You can all go to hell for all I care."

Bass thought about kissing her against her will, her lips were so close it wouldn't have taken much for their mouths to collide, but he refrained. Charlie didn't need any more reasons to find his behavior deplorable.

His urges might have been easy to control but the monster inside him still did as it pleased. He turned her around, crashing his chest into her back as his mouth ghosted over the side of her face and sultry breathe filled her ear. "Just like that? One minute you're flashing me smiles and flirting, and the next I'm repulsive?"

Charlie gulped. "You're disgusting." She muttered, feeling the sturdiness of his body pressed up against her. "What happened in there will never, ever, happen again." Her statement was final.

Bass nudged her away. "Go on then. Go run back to your farm life. Hate me for things you think you know about me."

Her tongue failed to roll out the words. She wanted to know why he was so dead set on proclaiming his innocence but whatever explanation he'd provide, it wouldn't change the fact that he'd been an accomplice to the lies that had been fed to her family. He was just as guilty as Miles and her mother. After all, he was the one determined to bring the power back.

She picked up her dress and took off, not bothering once to look back at the man she was leaving behind. He watched her until she vanished into the darkness of the night, his chest feeling like it was being teared apart and not understanding why Charlie thinking so low of him seemed like such a blow.

Bass had been less than cordial with the woman he'd decided to screw that night. He pulled her hair carelessly, spilling into her without even bothering to ask if it was okay. He was pretty certain that she hadn't enjoyed a single minute of it but he didn't care. His mind had clearly been somewhere else.

He threw a handful of coins on the bed. "Get out." He ordered, watching as she hurried to get dressed and leave the premises.

Charlotte Matheson had really done a number on him, and she'd only been around long enough for him to learn a few trivial things. It was that innocent facade and the fierce spitfire she hid underneath that attracted him to her. He wasn't even sure why that made her so special but his mind didn't seem likely to let go of her any time soon.

The door to his bedroom reverberated with loud knocking. "Can I come in?" It was Miles' voice on the other side.

Bass pulled on some pants and opened the door. "Did you find her?"

Miles nodded. "She's back in her cell. I already had a talk with her. She won't do it again."

"You need to make sure she doesn't do it again." He said, alluding to him using more than just words to relay the message. Miles nodded, excusing himself.

"Miles." He stopped at the sound of Bass' inquisitive tone. "You didn't happen to run into Charlie while you were out there, did you?"

He sighed heavily. "Bass," Miles shook his head, "Forget about Charlie. I know her. She's not going to forgive us for this easily."

The look on Bass' eyes was that of pure regret. "I need to speak with her." He was really starting to sound irrational now.

"No, you don't." Miles ran a hand through his hair. "Stay away from her Bass. Nothing good can come out of it."

Bass nodded but something inside him told him that it wouldn't be the last he'd see of Charlie Matheson.

Part 2 – The Second Meeting

"The girl's moving further west. She seems to be in the company of a heavy set guy and an older blonde with an accent." Captain Neville reported, his hands behind his back in a military stance. "I heard them disclose something about a tower and there were brief mentions of Miles and Rachel Matheson."

The mention of the Tower made Bass' head snap to attention. "Where is this tower located?"

"The location is unknown but can be easily acquired as long as we keep tailing them." Neville replied.

Bass mulled over this option. For the past couple years he'd been keeping close tabs on Charlie, putting Neville in charge of bringing him intel whenever it was available. Miles had told him to stay away but it was something he had found impossible to do. He'd even ventured out into that stupid farmland a time or two to make sure that she was still doing okay.

His actions weren't something he was proud of but it helped clear his conscience and seeing her provided some sort of relief for the terrible decisions he was forced to make from time to time. Being responsible for so much death wasn't something he'd had in mind when he became the ruling General of the Monroe Militia.

"How is she doing? Is she still mourning her father and brother?" His eyes were downcast when he asked the question, knowing he was partially at fault for what had occurred.

It had been nine months since that fateful day when Ben and Danny decided to stupidly go aid rebels in a neighboring town. The attack from the Militia had been inescapable. The amplifier had proven it worked to perfection—at least for a short time—and the helicopters' gunfire hit the campsite, annihilating everything in their path, including the two Mathesons' lives.

It was an accident that always weighed Bass down like an anchor. It served as a reminder that no matter how much he cared about the Matheson girl, she'd never be able to forgive him for his sins.

Rachel and Miles had left by then, feeling as if their job was done with the completion of the amplifier. Bass had never felt more alone. The power only lasted a few weeks before he realized it wasn't a permanent fix and he saw his dreams of world domination crumbling before his eyes.

Neville's voice brought Bass back to the now. "She's doing exceptionally well these days." The smirk on his face made Bass want to punch him unconscious. "It's a shame she's a Matheson, sir. I think she would've been quite fitting for a First Lady."

Bass' sulky expression caused Neville to clear his throat, knowing he'd overstepped his boundaries when it came to talking about Charlie.

"Get everything ready." Bass ordered. "We're following them to that tower as soon as daylight breaks."

Charlie, Aaron, and Maggie arrived at the Tower late the next night, unaware that Bass and Neville had been hot on their trail. The doors to the compound were locked and their only hope was that Rachel and Miles were already inside so they could let them in.

Rachel had alerted them that this was the only place where they could restore the electricity. Charlie was still not happy with them for having worked with Bass, especially after the two people she loved most in the world had lost their lives because of him. But she figured this was their way of compensating for the wrong they'd done.

"Are those security cameras?" Maggie asked, receiving a confirmation from Aaron as they both looked up at the decrepit devices pointed at them.

Charlie tried sliding the door open but her efforts were useless. She looked around as if searching for a secret button that would grant them entrance. There was a rumbling coming from inside and they all looked at each other perplexed, listening as it seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

Aaron was just about to attempt another go at the door when the screeching froze him in place. The metal panels slowly opened to reveal an unlit, long, narrow hallway.

"Do you think Miles and my mom are in there already?" Charlie asked.

Maggie looked at Aaron, not wanting to be the first to guess, but there was no answer.

Charlie huffed, "Well, we're already here."

Bass and Neville scurried behind them, drawing their guns and approaching the place with caution. Their boots touched murky waters as they reached a fork in the corridors and Neville looked at him for direction. Bass tilted his head, ordering him to take the path on the right as he continued left.

In the distance he could hear the echo of a thundering voice. It was a man but not one he recognized. His footing faltered as he began to walk faster, always looking over his shoulder to avoid being taken by surprise. Bass tried to keep his mind on the task at hand but it kept drifting back to her. Charlie seemed different. She was no longer the girl who had visited the Republic two years ago and deep down, he was aware that it was partly a result of his wrong doing.

There was a glow coming from a door just down the hall and then all the lights in the place began to flicker. The lightbulbs lining the hall burned dimly and his eyes widened like spheres, realizing the Mathesons had been working on restoring the power all along.
For a minute, Bass saw red, imagining them laughing behind his back and plotting to bring down his Republic. He wondered if they'd acquired any allies along the way, ones that would be more than willing to put an end to his ruling.

He was deep in thought when he saw Charlie's body flung from the door, she laid on the ground for a few minutes as Rachel screamed inside and Miles' voice threatened to harm the perpetrators for what they were doing. His heart began to sputter, seeing her almost lifeless body in front of him.

The man's voice came from inside, "I'm a Patriot, Rachel." And then there was a gunshot.

Charlie opened her eyes, lifting herself up slowly from the floor and catching sight of Bass as he neared the door. She shook her head, urging him to stay away. Her eyes were wide, her mouth wanting to say so much more but knowing that any indication that he was there would probably make things worse.

More shots were fired and he could clearly hear a scuffle inside as Rachel's panicked voice begged Aaron to make it all stop. Bass didn't know what was going on but he was sure that the power being back on wasn't necessarily a good thing. He ran to Charlie, helping her to her feet and wrapping his arm around her to steady her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, still in a daze.

Bass looked at her, it was evident that she had lost some of the innocence and light that had been abundantly present two winters before. Her clothes were dirty, a chain belt hanging from her hips and a blade suspended from her side. The years had turned her into a warrior and something about that darkened his already sullen mood. It wasn't until he looked closer that he noticed the cut on her leg, it was gushing blood and he then understood why she was having such a hard time standing up.

Her eyes looked droopy and any more loss of blood would surely cause her to pass out. "I need to get you out of here." He took her in his arms, carrying her outside the compound.

"The bombs..." She muttered.

Bass looked at her pale face, feeling his heart drop.

"The bombs..." Charlie said again, tugging at his jacket. Her hand tightened around the fabric desperately, as if he could do something to stop whatever was happening. "They're all going to die."

He laid her on the ground just outside, taking off his belt and wrapping it around her leg to make a tourniquet. His hand caressed her face and then he looked back at the building behind them. Miles and the rest of the group were still inside but he debated leaving Charlie all alone.

His eyes swept over her. "Charlie, I need to go back inside and get the others." She nodded weakly.

He'd barely taken two steps towards the door when lighting began striking everywhere around him. He took Charlie in his arms again, placing her under the structure to provide her with some kind of shelter from the bolts of energy hitting the ground.

The earth shook under his feet and he took one last glance at her before the blinding light overtook him. It wasn't painful—not at first—but his body stiffened and no matter how hard he tried to move, he felt like he'd been turned to stone. The heat made him feel like he was going to combust and his head felt like it was going to explode into a million pieces. He lost consciousness, his body collapsing to the ground.

Part 3 – A Chance Encounter

Bass never saw her after that day. When he awoke he was all alone, her body gone, all that was left behind was his bloody belt. He'd laughed maniacally as he held it in his hands, realizing the Mathesons didn't want a single thing to remind them of him.

He never did find out what became of Tom Neville, although there were whispers in the area that he was still alive somewhere in the South and had taken it upon himself to create his own army with the help of his son, Jason.

Bass was ashamed to admit it but the drop of the bombs the year before had been in a way his saving grace. He no longer had the burden of people looking up to him for direction and leadership. After the events, he'd found his way to a settlement out in the Plains Nation, a carnival-like location the people there referred to as New Vegas. And much like its counterpart, it was a place fit for sinners. Bass figured he was right at home.

"Are you ready Jimmy? This night can be the one that turns you into a golden god." Gould smiled at him wickedly, watching as Bass warmed up. "Or should I say diamond?" He grinned.

General Monroe was no more. He was Jimmy King now, an identity that had allowed him to blend in with the locals and made him temporarily forget about the man he used to be. He'd taken up street fighting as a means to make a new name for himself and earn a quick buck. It was better than Gould's previous proposal of nightly whoring his ass to the highest bidder.

"When have I ever let you down, Gould?" He replied, a daunting smirk on his face.

He looked at Bass wild eyed. "Not once."

Charlie had been traveling for days, Miles' orders had been clear but she had never been one to listen to directions and do exactly as told. It had been a week since Connor had showed up in Willoughby with the hope of finding Bass there. He'd found out about the Patriots' new plans while sharing a housing complex with rebels down in Mexico and his relatives let it slip that his father might be the only person who could help.

He'd arrived in a blissful mood but it quickly changed when he learned that Bass hadn't been seen for a little over a year. Something about the young Monroe sparked something in Charlie. He looked very similar to Bass, even his mood seemed to reflect that on given days. His eyes were a chocolate hue, nothing compared to the mesmerizing blue of his father's but there was enough in him to make Charlie's equilibrium shift when caught off guard.

It wasn't that she was attracted to him or that she even considered the prospect of returning his attempts at flirtation. Connor just reminded her a lot of Bass and even though she hated him for what had happened to Ben and Danny, she slipped from time to time.

She would sometimes catch herself thinking back to their first meeting—the way he looked at her when they danced and the sound of his laughter. And then her mind would float to that night at the Tower and how he hadn't hesitated to come to her rescue. The truth was, she'd been with other men since then and none of them had ever had the same effect on her.

You take the town in the northern part of Texas, Connor will go to the one thirty miles to the east and I'll check the two that are in the South. Charlie thought back to Miles' orders as she looked up at the banner in front of her. Strung CDs hung from it as decoration, spinning around in the wind. She'd heard way too many tales of this place not to venture off course. The allure of New Vegas had been too hard to resist.

She walked through the crowds, enjoying the sights but keeping an eye out for any potential threats. Women paraded around in nothing but cheap lingerie and sketchy men trailed behind them like bugs attracted to light. Charlie titled her head, watching one of them enter a tent specifically labeled as "XXX entertainment."

The opaque lighting inside was enough to form silhouettes through the thin material. There wasn't just one couple in there, there were multiple. Her eyebrows raised and then she retreated, following the sounds of cheering crowds inside a much larger tent—it was circus-like and the spectators inside were rabid.

Charlie squeezed in between people, finally taking a peek at the cause for so much commotion. Her chest tightened when she saw him, feeling like she'd been drained of air. The sensation in her stomach made her feel sick. Bass was fighting inside a dirt ring, jabbing his opponent on the ribs and swiftly moving from side to side to evade his knuckles.

She watched him, feeling her heart beating faster as her excitement surged. Her eyes fell upon his half naked form, his muscles tightening with every move and his skin moistened with perspiration. Droplets of sweat fell from his wet hair and he ran his hands through it after delivering a final blow to his opponent. The crowd cheered and hollered, and the women on the sidelines swooning came as no surprise to Charlie.

Bass retreated and the people split in the middle. He was like Moses parting the red sea. Everyone was enthralled by him, chanting a name that wasn't his own. Charlie followed him, watching as he reached an old trailer and climbed inside. She couldn't help chuckling, unable to believe her luck.

She took a few deep breathes before mustering the courage to knock on the door. Her eyes roamed her surroundings, noticing it was awfully quiet and lonesome. Her hand formed a fist once again but before she could knock, the door flung open in front of her.

Bass' face looked like he'd seen a ghost. His lips parted and for a moment he was speechless. He'd never imagined he'd see Charlie again and the fact that she was the one standing at his doorstep only made everything more surreal.

"Charlotte." His voice was low.

It wasn't until then that she realized how crazy the whole situation was. What was she supposed to say? I'm here because you have a son and he's looking for you? She stared at him. Time had been kind to him, the only thing that made him look older was his newly acquired facial hair. And even then, that had only added to his good looks.

Charlie shook her head as if pushing the thought away. "We've been looking for you."

Bass peeked his head outside, pulling her by the arm and bringing her inside the trailer. "You can't be here, Charlotte. All these people think the Republic is to blame for the dropping of the bombs." He looked her up and down, unable to resist the urge to contemplate her beauty. "You have to go."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "I don't know how else to say this but–" Her thought was unfinished as she noticed the brunette in the deep confines of the trailer.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was intruding." Charlie sneered.

Bass rubbed his beard, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He ignored her remark.

Charlie crinkled her forehead, unable to take him seriously with the half naked woman sitting in the back of his trailer. "I thought you were trying to keep a low profile?"

He pursed his lips. "I've known Duncan for a long time. She can be trusted."

She rolled her eyes, "Right." Something inside her flared up like a lit fuse. She wasn't sure why she was angry, she knew Bass had a reputation of being a ladies man. It was unrealistic for Charlie to believe he'd changed one bit.

The feelings of contempt caused her to lose her grip on moral sense. "I'm here because your son showed up in Willoughby looking for you." She delivered the news unscrupulously.

His mouth dropped open. "Son?" He muttered.

"Yours and Emma's. His name's Connor." She replied, glancing over at the brunette once again. The woman looked bored, Charlie could tell she was just waiting for her to leave so she could get her fill of Bass. The thought made her sick.

"How can you tell me that like it's not a big deal?" He asked incredulous.

Charlie was starting to look a bit remorseful. "There's a lot more you don't know." She continued, "You have to come back with me to Willoughby. Miles–" She trailed off, "We could use your help."

"She can be trusted, huh?" Charlie jeered, rattling the handcuffs behind her back. Her fingers unintentionally rubbed against his back.

Bass leaned his head back, bumping into Charlie's as he too tried to break free from their restraints. They were both handcuffed, tied to each other as they faced in opposite directions. Their backs were warm, sweat building up between their bodies as they created friction with their movements. They'd been trying to free themselves for hours with no such luck.

Duncan had quickly let it slip that Jimmy King was really Sebastian Monroe and it had only taken a few minutes before Gould and his men came to apprehend him, taking Charlie with him. If Charlie had been angry with Duncan before, now she was furious.

They sat inside a small cage, like zoo animals waiting for spectators. "You said Miles and Connor were looking for me too." Bass said, "That means they'll come searching for you when you don't return."

Charlie sighed. "Thing is, they don't really know I'm here." She felt Bass' body tense. "I ran into you by sheer luck."

"Goddamn it, Charlie." He muttered.

She tried to turn back and look at him, only catching a glimpse of the side of his face through her peripherals. "Oh no, don't you dare blame me for this. We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't been screwing that rat."

Bass laughed, making Charlie even more irate. "Fine. It's all my fault. Everything that ever happened to you..." He paused, "It's all my fault." His voice was soft, delivering your words truthfully.

He tugged at the handcuffs again, writhing in an attempt to loosen the ropes. Charlie felt his touch on the small of her back and her body responded with a shiver. She wasn't sure if he was actually trying to remove the cuffs or if it was just an excuse to touch her.

Bass' fingers kept pulling at her belt, making her breathing hitch every time he came in contact with bare skin. She was lost in the feel of his hands when she heard the metal handcuffs hit the board beneath them. He moved his shoulders, maneuvering them until he freed himself from the ropes and he began unraveling them both.

"That chain of yours came in handy." He said, showing her a piece of metal he'd managed to strip from the belt. He grinned, making her lose sense of who he was and allowing her to relinquish a smile.

As they made their way outside, they were greeted by the desperate screams of people. Charlie pointed to the skies above and Bass noticed the mass of green fireflies hovering over the settlement. Everything around them was in flames. Unbeknownst to them, they had Aaron Pittman to thank for the distraction.

Part 4 – Picking Up the Pieces

The fire flickered as Bass stirred the contents of the canned food with his knife. Charlie sat across from him, eyeing him with caution. She was hiding behind an invisible armor, guarding herself from the man that was now her sole companion. They'd been on the road back to Willoughby for a few days. A rainstorm had halted their progress and put them behind a substantial amount of hours but they'd managed to remain cordial through their ordeal.

"Charlotte–" His breath became visible as he spoke. The night had not only brought a downpour but also lower temperatures.

"Don't." Charlie said, knowing that this was probably a feeble attempt to apologize for all he'd done. "We might be forced to work together to defeat these Patriots or whatever they are but that doesn't mean I hate you any less."

He smiled, licking the food off his knife as he looked at her. Charlie had been reminding him of how much she hated him since they'd left. The word was almost starting to lose its meaning. Bass didn't want to say it but a part of him believed that it was her way of convincing herself that it was true.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

She tried to stand up and fell straight on her ass, producing a light chuckle from him. Charlie snarled, "This is funny to you? I almost died!"

Bass came to his feet and walked over to her. "You had a childish outburst, ran off to that bar and got yourself in trouble." He said, "You're lucky I'm an expert at tracking."

She rolled her eyes but inside she was grateful he'd come to her aid. If he hadn't showed up in time, who knows what those lowlifes would've done to her. Charlie could still see him in her fogged memories, he teared through those men like they were paper, and he'd done it all for her.

Her eyes were fixated on the fire, unable to look him in the eyes as she muttered the words. "Thank you." Bass nodded, looking pleased.

He wrapped himself up on a blanket as he tried to keep himself warm. Charlie slipped inside the sleeping bag, feeling its coziness on her limbs and burying her nose under its thickness. Bass leaned back against the giant log he'd been sitting on, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep.

Charlie's tongue struggled trying to call out to him. She thought of calling him Monroe. That's how he referred to him in front of everyone else. Only in her thoughts had she ever really let herself think of him as Bass. And when she looked at him, even behind the sun bathed skin and the extra years etched on his face, she still saw the man that had charmed her at first sight. Underneath all the layers, he'd remained the same.

"Bass," she murmured.

"What is it, Charlotte?" He replied without opening his eyes.

She bit her lip, "It's cold out tonight." He hummed, agreeing with her. Charlie unzipped the sleeping bag. "Miles won't be happy if I tell him I let you freeze to death."

Bass opened his eyes, seeing her scoot over and make room for him. He thought about it for a few seconds before accepting. Charlie felt the warmth of his body the instant he lied down next to her. He zipped up the sleeping bag again, laying on his side with his back turned to her. They're bodies were snugged together, a welcomed heat for the continued drop in temperature outside.

The brightness of the morning sun woke her up. Charlie's eyes fluttered opened, unsure of what time during the night they had managed to turn and adjust themselves. This time it was her who was facing away from him but she could feel his body pressed on hers. His hard chest was glued to her back and it took her a little while before realizing what else she was feeling against her.

Her eyes widened like saucers and she felt a tug in her stomach as the bulge pressed against the curve of her ass twitched in response to her slight movements. Charlie froze in place, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Part of her wanted to scream and get away from him as fast as possible, while the darker part of her was replaying scenarios in her head that shouldn't have been part of her thoughts to begin with.

The longer she thought about the situation, the less inclined she was to do anything about it. She even thought of pretending to keep sleeping and have him wake up to realize his boner had been poking her while he slept.

Charlie tried pushing him away but the enclosed sleeping bag was making that impossible. Bass moved against her again, this time slightly bucking his hips and giving her a pretty good idea of the magnitude of her problem. She couldn't take it any longer.

"Bass," she said loudly.

He grunted, opening his eyes to the daylight and immediately becoming aware of the situation. "Jesus..." he muttered, quickly unzipping the sleeping bag.

Charlie hadn't found the circumstances funny until then. It took everything in her not to burst into laughter. She tried her best to sound upset. "Please, get that thing away from me."

He stood up, facing away from her and attempting to walk it off. "I'm so sorry." He sounded truly embarrassed over something he'd had no control over.

She put on her belt and glanced in his direction, "That's the last time you and I share a sleeping bag."

Charlie couldn't think of one instance when being in the presence of Sebastian Monroe had been unpleasant or even dangerous. On the contrary, she had felt perfectly safe on the days they spent together on the way back to Willoughby. When they returned home, Connor was there waiting for them, along with Miles and the rest of the group.

Rachel was less than happy to see him, openly blaming him for killing her son and husband—the latter being laughable seeing as she had found it in her to cheat on him with Miles. She went as far as shaming him in front of everyone for being blessed with a son, saying it was some kind of cruel joke played on her by God himself.

Charlie almost fell sorry for him. She let him and Connor have their time alone. They had a lot to catch up on and even though they'd had their issues, she enjoyed seeing him happy. His smile always took her back to a better time, even if it had only been but a fleeting moment in her memory.

She was alone by the waterhole one spring evening when he came up behind her. Her hair was still wet from her recent swim and the thought of him possibly seeing her naked made her body quiver, but she hadn't dared to ask.

"Hello, Charlotte." His voice was sultry, the sound of her name on his tongue was magnetic.

Charlie looked up at him noticing the smirk on his lips. "What's going on?" She wondered, assuming the reason for his presence was due to something happening back at the house.

He raised his eyebrows, "You've been avoiding me."

She smiled and licked her lips, "I've done no such thing." She fastened her boots and then came to her feet. "We're back with the group, I figured it was time to stop pretending that we actually like each other." She wrung her hair, ridding it of excess water. "We did what we had to do out there on the road to survive. It's no longer just you and me in this."

She smiled but the way her own words stung her took her by surprise. Is that what she really wanted? Did she want to forget that inside him there was a man who longed for nothing more than love an acceptance? Charlie smiled, trying to convince herself that it was for the best. She took a few steps away before his hand wrapped around her arm.

Her eyes closed and her mind went blank, feeling the heat being expelled from his skin and fueling her body with energy. "That's not true."

Charlie tried to break away. She didn't want to hear him speak anymore.

"You know that's not true, Charlie." He sounded pained. "But if you want to continue lying to yourself, you go ahead and do that." He stood in front of her, his proximity close and his eyes burning with intensity. "I'll be here." His words resonated in her ears. "Just like I've always been."

His confession shattered the wall she'd built around her. Charlie had promised herself long ago that she'd never again let her guard down when it came to him but she was beginning to falter in her commitment. She watched him walk away, every cell in her body screamed to go after him, but her feet felt like they'd been planted on cement.

It took months for her to openly warm up to him. And it wasn't until she'd thought him dead—executed by her own mother and grandpa—that she realized how much she truly cared about him. It was in that moment that Charlie decided to stop fighting and finally start to slowly let him in.