So this is a Birthday present for all the October/November Charloe fans. This story did not go the way I expected at all, and in actuality is a really shitty Birthday present. So sorry for that. I might continue it with another one-shot and redeem myself, but no promises.

Sorry for any errors. No Beta.

Don't Forget Me

Her head rested against the down pillow, eyes open, gazing at the moon through the open window. It was lighting up the night, and for a second she could pretend it was the streetlamp that used to glow outside her bedroom as a child — the silly light that kept the monsters away when her parents were too busy to care. When they forgot about her in favor of her brother. She missed it. She knew it was a stupid thing to miss, but she did all the same.

Fall was just reaching Willoughby, and the nights were comfortable enough to leave the windows open. A cool breeze floating through the room, causing goose-bumps the break out across her skin. Charlie pulled the sheet around her tighter, eyes fluttering closed with a sigh. Foolishly, she tried to tell herself she wasn't waiting up for him. Listening for the tell-tail stomp of his work boots. It was a nasty habit she'd recklessly fallen into, one that was slowly but surly breaking her.

When they'd started this on and off game months ago she'd only expected it to be a drunken fling. He was there and she was lonely. He was too, though she knew he'd never admit it. He was the only one that truly understood her, understood everything she'd been through. The Willoughby boys had never taken up arms, never fought against a great general or led a rebellion. They'd never seen their father, brother, friends taken from them the way she had. He understood, even if he'd been the cause of some of her pain. He'd come back for her when no one else had, when she'd felt forgotten.

But the fling they'd started was no longer just a fling to her. She wanted more. She wanted validation that she was worthy of the happiness. The kind of happiness her mother and Miles had stolen away for themselves. She was tired of hiding it from her family, sick of sneaking around. She didn't want to be a dirty little secret. She didn't want to be forgotten anymore.

A choked laugh left her mouth at that thought, self-loathing finding her in the bright night. Charlotte Matheson had never been one to let a man dictate her life, but with Sebastian Monroe all the rules were different. With him she felt herself acting the lovesick fool and she hated it.

A few days before she'd tried pushing him towards acknowledging what they had was more than just a string of one-nights stands. He'd lashed out, irritated with her for forcing his hand. She hadn't seen him since that night. He was avoiding her at every turn. Still she stayed awake hoping.

Another breeze ran through the room, reminding her of just how alone she was, her body instinctively searching out body-heat that wasn't there. She clutched the sheets tighter, before dropping them, another resigned sigh leaving her lips. Quickly, she tore them from her skin, ignoring the bitter sting the cool air brought, and slid from the bed. Her feet quietly pattered across the room, and with little effort she slid the window closed, drawing the curtains tight.

Making her way back to bed, she hopped the dark room would settle her mind and lift that weight Monroe managed to put there. She was tired of him dominating her thoughts and heart when she quite obviously wasn't even a part of his.

Charlie didn't know how long she tired to compel herself to sleep, it felt like years, but as her mind finally started to drift into darkness those familiar thumps she'd been longing for jolted her awake. He heart began pounding, her nerves fluttering in time with his steps. He'd come back.

The door to her room opened with quite creaks as he stepped inside. She didn't move from her side as she heard him come in, eyes remaining shut in a nearly childish manner. In her mind she saw the moves her made, slipping off his boots, removing his jacket, and working off his pants and shirt. The bed dipped as he slid behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist, body pressing into her back. He was warm and sturdy, the familiar smell of whiskey and sweat taking over her senses. He nuzzled his face into her hair, hot air leaving his nose as he took in deep breathes of her.

"I know you're awake." He murmured, his rough hand rooting through the folds of fabric to find its way to the icy skin of her stomach. She flinched at his heated touch causing him to chuckle, his lips pressing down against her shoulder.

"Why are you here." Charlie asked, her words coming out weaker than she'd wanted. She wanted to be fierce and demanding, refusing to show how he'd affected her.

"I missed you." He said, as if it were obvious. She pursed her lips at that answer, wanting so desperately to believe that it was her that he missed.

His hand strayed from the flat expanse of her stomach, to the edge of the leggings she wore, dipping below the elastic fabric. She grabbed at the hand, stopping its path. "Was it me you missed?" Her voice full of accusation. "Or someone to warm your bed?"

"Charlotte..." He groaned, pulling back away from her. She spun around, twisting in he arms, looking on his face for the first time in days. Her eyes found his in the limited light; he looked as tired as she felt. Those blue eyes that were usually so bright looked dim with dread.

"Tell me." She demanded though clinched teeth.

"I thought we settled this."

"We settled nothing, but if that's how you feel then leave."

She went to shove him away, but his hand wrapped around her arm, forcing it between their bodies. Charlie didn't struggle, just stared him down, watching the battle play out behind his eyes. He whispered her name again, this time his voice pleading. She shook her heard, fighting back angry tears. "Get out."

"No. Damn it." He said, tightening his grip in her arm, pulling her closer, and trapping her against him. She swallowed, looking down away from his begging eyes.

"Get out."

"I'm not leaving."

"I'm done with this game. I don't—" She tried again, her voice cracking. "I don't want to be a dirty secret anymore."

He made a strangled noise, his other hand snatching up her chin to stare him in the eyes. "Is that what you think?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Damn it, Charlotte. I'm not good at this. I can't just— I don't—" He ground out uselessly, before giving up with a ragged sigh and pressing his lips to hers. His kiss was rough and needy, trying to push through everything he couldn't say. She struggled against him, but he held her tight, hands folding behind her back. Charlie twisted her head away, leaving him with bloody bitten lips. Bass didn't mind, continuing his assault across her cheek and down to her neck.

"Stop it Jackass!"

"Charlie." He whined, his lips and tongue laving at the smooth expanse of her neck. A small moan left her lips as he bit down with blunt teeth. "Charlotte."

"I don't want to do this." She whispered, as his legs tangled in hers, a hand sliding over her bottom and down her thigh, tugging it over his hip. He pressed himself against her, causing a gasp to leave her lips. "Bass." She tried again, already hating herself for the way she was feeling.

"Why can't this be enough?" He asked, his mouth still pressed against her skin, sliding down to pepper at her uncovered chest. Her cracked heart broke at his words, knowing she would never get from him what she truly wanted. Silly stupid dreams she let herself have of marriage and a family with him slipping out of her grasp. She rubbed the tear that fell down her cheek against the pillow, shoving back the pain that was tearing her apart inside.

This was all she would ever get.

Poor Charlotte Matheson always one of the forgotten.

With a heartbreaking enthusiasm, she threw herself into his desire. Hiding away her tears behind closed eyes she kissed him like it was her last moments on earth, her last moments with him. Bass didn't question the change in her passion, giving as good as he got.

With quick hands he shed her clothes, ravishing her naked skin with kisses and caresses as reverent as he need for her was. Charlie hid behind her shut eyes, unable to look at him, every bit of her focused on not falling apart. She tried so hard to enjoy his touch. She wanted to lock away this moment, the memory of how he felt in her arms for forever.

When he entered her, she lost the battle, her eyes snapping open to gaze into his. The tears she'd been holding back flowed freely, and he knew in that moment what she already decided. His calloused fingers brushed at her skin, wiping away her sadness in the only way he could.

"Please don't." He begged, quickening his thrust to a bruising pace. "Please don't leave me."

She turned her head away then, full lips pressing a kiss into his waiting palm. A broken cry leaving her mouth as his forehead pressed against her shoulder, his mouth moving against her skin in silent pleas. She tightened her legs around his hips, hands weaving into his dirty curls, giving herself over to the painful pleasure. She felt every movement, her nerves on fire, as he loved her as only he could. As she clinched around him, Bass let out a strangled moan. His hips jerked as he chased the pleasure she gave.

The room that had been filled with groans and whimpers fell morbidly silent, only their raged breathing filling the air. Charlie let her legs fall open, but Bass refused to move.

"Please, Charlotte." He prayed into her sweaty skin, hoping she'd allow him redemption. "Please."

A sad smile spread out over her lips, tears refusing to stop. She gently turned his head to face her, touching her forehead to his. "I can't. She cried quietly. "I can't."

—

They fell asleep like that, holding each other desperately for the last time. When Bass awoke in the morning he found himself alone in Charlie's bed, face pressed into tear stained pillows that still smelt like her skin. His eyes futilely searched for her, instead finding her pack and crossbow gone, in their place a note with three tragic words:

Don't forget me.

So let me know what you thought!

XOXO