Chapter Four
“Do you ever put on a shirt?”
It was a simple question, the man rarely ended a day in her presence with a shirt in tact. Today was no exception. She had found him near the Transylvanian Bites section of the orchard. Despite their name, they were some of the sweetest apples she had ever tasted. She felt the name was a bit overdone, but nevertheless, her growing love for these hybrid fruits allowed her criticism to dissolve. But Charlie, with the insanely bipolar weather changes in this country, took it upon himself to show up again without the proper attire. With his blatant disregard to her question altogether, Pansy felt the snarl her lip made to his back.
“I asked you a question, Charlie.” She released a huff, taking an exaggerated step forward, thankful for the trainers that clad her feet for balance, and tugged hard on his arm just below the shoulder. The results were not what she was expecting.
Charlie was there, his breath hot and extremely close to her mouth, her skin rising from the feel of it in chilled bumps. She grew uneasy at the swift change in proximity and regretted ever stepping foot into the orchard at all. She gulped, chancing a look up into his bright blue eyes and suddenly the surrounding apples smeared and faded away. It was like the world was spinning around her, her hair whipping wildly behind her, Charlie’s breath replaced with the chilled breeze of the afternoon and then the ground gave way beneath her feet. She was convinced no shoe she wore would triumph these orchard floors. And Charlie, was laughing.
The sound wasn’t out of the ordinary, wasn’t exotic or special. It was just a laugh. But it was his laugh. That is when she realized he had picked her up. The world wasn’t spinning, she was, and the brief moment of affection for the redheaded fool had faded from her thoughts.
“Put me down!”
It was as though the man felt indifferent for all things manners. To be frank, Charlie was one who disregarded a number of things, but Pansy ruled out trying to save the man now. He’d never be a proper gentleman. But, she was fairly certain that was perfectly fine with him.
“I said put me down you big buffoon!” She slapped at his chest, hoping the persistence in her voice would burst through the hardheadedness that was Charlie. It didn’t. He held her there, arms outstretched above him. She could only imagine what she looked like up there, dangling like a wind chime caught in the wind, her limbs swaying - or in this case flailing - and her head down. A romanticist would have reveled at the idea of being in a position such as this: lifted up by a strong - and incorrigible - man under a bright late morning sun in the middle of a colorful and scenic orchard. Pansy on the other hand, was starting to lose feeling in both of her arms, and her toes were cold. Not to mention how much she hated being so vulnerable.
“I will curse you back to London, Charlie, so help me!” The idiot’s smile never faltered from his face as Pansy struggled, trying to wiggle out of his hold. He finally lowered his arms, only to haul her over his right shoulder, and slapping her playfully once on the arse now facing upward in the air. Pansy let out a not so ladylike welp, her hands gripped to the belt of his pants on his lower back and outstretched in an attempt to keep the blood from running to her face. With every heavy step Charlie made, Pansy’s striped jumper slid further and further down, exposing her middle. She tried to kick her feet - because she was good at throwing wobblies- but Charlie had gripped both legs and secured them firmly to his chest. "Seriously? Again with the shoulder thing? Does this actually work for you, you barbarian!"
“Are you quite finished?”
“He speaks!” Pansy flailed her arms over her head in exaggeration, ignoring the fact her head occasionally bounced off his arse between steps. Charlie laughed. Again . Because nothing adds to the aesthetic of his half-naked self like a fresh bushel of laughter. “Where are we going?”
Charlie shockingly didn't reply. Instead, he simply whistled an annoying upbeat tune to himself and occasionally skipped over fallen twigs or stones. Pansy literally just hung there like a hunk of meat being dragged to one of her carrier's dragons; a look of utter annoyance on every inch of her face. She gave up trying to talk to the man, who once again laughed through his puckered, whistling lips like the child he was.
Pansy eventually felt him tighten his grip in a light and quick squeeze, then bent forward so he could lower her. She slid easily over his shoulder, his hands grazing the sides of her knees, then her thighs, and stopping at her waist until she was standing and peering up in front of him. Her jumper had fallen back in place, covering Charlie's hands, her own lingered on his chest far longer than any gentleman would allow. Because this is clearly his fault . If she had stood up on her toes, she was certain her lips would have been within kissing distance to his - not that she was paying that any mind of course. It was more of an observation than a desire, for that she was certain. But then she felt the puff of his breath when he let out a low rumbling chuckle and her knees buckled beneath her.
“Bloody weather.” She cleared her throat and stepped back, rubbing away the chill that wasn’t actually there. Charlie didn’t appear to notice, and if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he just looked out in front of him with his hands on his hips, his bare chest stupidly majestic and illuminated with the sun shining an aura-like shimmer around him. His ridiculously vibrant hair gleamed and danced in the breeze. Pansy twitched an eyebrow upward, one hand tugging the sleeve of her sweater while the other tugged on her earlobe.
“You’re doing it again.” Charlie didn’t shift his eyes to look at her, he apparently didn’t need to if his tone said anything about it.
“Doing it ?” Pansy dropped her hand immediately. She knew what he meant, but she’d be damned if she ever admitted it. They had been spending an insufferable amount of time together over the past two weeks. Charlie turned to her then, his smile growing wider when their eyes met. Pansy blamed an invisible cold again.
“The ear thing.” He turned his body to face her. “Yeah, you tug on your ear when you’re feeling off.” The touch of his calloused thumb and rough fingers on the soft flesh of her ear damn near caused her to slip and roll down the hill. When she only stared at him, mouth slightly ajar and her eyes vacant, Charlie freed her from the trance by peering down and kicking off his shoes.
“First the shirt, now the bloody shoes? Is it really so difficult to keep your clothes on?” Pansy crossed her arms.
“Is it so difficult for you to talk about your flaws?” Pansy scoffed. Pansy had no flaws.
“To be fair, I had started this conversation with a question - several in fact - and you chose to ignore me first!”
“Fair enough.” Charlie shrugged, and Pansy did not miss the way his shoulders flexed. She licked her lips. Damn him. “I despise shirts. Working with dragons tend to shy you away from wearing anything that can infuse into your skin.” He sat down, resting his freckled arms atop his knees and locking his wrist in a hold. It was his abs that flexed this time, and Pansy pushed out her lip in a pout, pretending to look away. “And I’ve taken you to the best spot in all of Romania. At least in my opinion.”
Pansy finally pulled her eyes from Charlie and scanned her surroundings. Her arms slowly slid down over her stomach and back to her sides, and she clutched the sleeves of her jumper with both hands. They were on top of the world. Charlie had picked her up and carried her off like a barbarian to the most open yet secluded place she had ever seen.
“What makes this place so special?” Pansy knew how stupid she sounded when she asked it. It had been happening more and more when in Charlie’s presence. She’s losing her edge and she isn’t entirely sure how to get it back - or if she even wanted to.
“This is Parkinson Peak.”
Pansy’s eyes snapped to Charlie in an instant, her mouth once again falling open. Charlie laid down over the soft carpet of clovers, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. He was peering up at the sky, resting his head atop his palms. Pansy stared at him, waiting for him to continue and at least provide details, but he didn’t. She shouldn’t have been surprised anymore, but he still managed to get under her skin.
“Come again?” Pansy asked, ensuring the irritation was provided in her tone. “Go on.”
“No, that’s the name. Just - Parkinson Peak.”
Pansy let out a wild grown of aggravation that echoed out into the air around them, fading in the same disapproving emphasis than when it started. She stomped her foot, once again prepping the tantrum she perfected over the years in order to gain results. She should have known Charlie would be unphased. None of her outbursts had worked on him before, but perhaps her own stubbornness refused to relent to his, accepting an unproclaimed challenge. She pinched the bridge of her nose, refusing the urge to satisfy his smugness by pulling her ear.
“Yes I gathered that, thanks.” She plopped down on the ground beside him and hugged her knees. “But I’m assuming you of all people would know why it is called Parkinson Peak?”
He didn’t answer her, but a smile crept over his lips. Pansy gulped, never wanting to discover them quite so much as she did in that moment. She bit her own lips instead. With eyes still set to the sky, Charlie adjusted himself and removed his hands so his head lay on the pillow soft clovers underneath. He rested his hands on his stomach.
“These are still your uncle’s lands.”
Pansy’s shoulders dropped.
“That’s it? How… anticlimactic.” She laid back then, one hand at her side while the other teased at her hair. She peered up at the clouds. Charlie let out a breathy laugh, the sound of it causing Pansy to gnaw harder on her lip. She missed her earlobe.
“No, that’s not it. But that is the set up.” She felt his eyes on her and for a brief moment, they caught the other’s gaze. Neither held it, both jerking their faces back toward the sky. “Perseus proposed to Elena up here. So, seeing how they were the village’s most loved couple, this place sort of adopted the name. I suppose it means more now that he’s gone.”
Pansy turned her head to Charlie, but his focus stayed upward. Her features fell, caught somewhere between romance and tragedy at the start and end of Charlie’s statement. Her hatred for the woman, Elena, had faded over the past several days, and though she was never one to involve herself in such fluffy messes, she found she couldn’t deny the appreciation of the peak’s origin.
“So that means something to the people here? Just two people agreeing to be married?”
“No, it’s more than that.” Charlie’s tone, for the first time since she’d met him, grew serious. Almost holding this new heartfelt depth. It made Pansy uneasy, and she gave up her internal fight to resist her tick any longer, rolling to her side to prop herself on one arm, the other on her ear. “It was an unspoken union between two worlds. There are an abundance of both magical and muggle folks here, Pansy. And when Perseus chose to continue his use of magic under limited muggle restrictions, it really set a new perspective. Especially to us over at the sanctuary.”
Pansy was intrigued, quirking an eyebrow and dropping her hand. She fidgeted with the clovers.
“How so?”
Charlie sat up then too, mirroring Pansy’s position. She pretended to ignore how close they were.
“He raised the bar by lowering the fear. By demonstrating how easy it was to balance magic in his daily routine amongst muggles all whilst maintaining the integrity of both communities, it really put a lot of us in our place.”
Pansy was floored. The only thing she hated about her uncle that impacted her so negatively, was the very thing that had such a positive impact on not one, but two whole communities. She could have laughed had her jaw not been already clenched from the shock of it. How ironic it all was - Pansy’s favorite person of her youth collided with the very thing she went to war against and fought so assuredly to prevent.
“You okay over there?”
Pansy blinked, her eyes catching Charlie’s and causing the whirlwind of emotions to subside. It startled her, the way his gaze held no judgement - only compassion; honesty - and it created a rush within her. The look had been lost to her for so long, an older man’s smile and eyes molded into the deepest of blue. Her Uncle Persues was the only person she knew to hold the truth in his eyes, and seeing it now in Charlie did something to her she couldn’t quite explain. She hadn’t realized how long she had missed it.
“Y-yeah.” She lied, finding herself conflicted, wondering if he’d look at her so openly if he knew what she had done in her past. Charlie was the type of person who would accept anyone, perhaps that was why he was so close with her uncle all those years. In a way, she was thankful he was there for him, and for Elena. She debated returning the gaze, perhaps even opening up as he had over the course of the week and a half, but she didn’t have the chance.
“There they are, the buggers!” Charlie was looking up toward the sky again, pointing at a distant spec amongst the clouds. Pansy turned her focus upward, squinting to see what he was talking about.
“What am I looking at?” Pansy’s tone fell back to her typical persona easily, peering up unamused. She really was good at wearing a mask if her pride would permit it. She began to question if that was such a good thing after all.
“It’s training day!” He looked at her with an expression assuming she bloody knew what training day meant.
“And?”
“For the adolescents. We let them out to fly twice a week to build their strength up.”
Pansy stared blankly, almost embarrassed at how long it took her to realize what he meant.
“Oh, dragons! You’re talking about dragons now.”
“It happens from time to time.” Charlie gave a playful wink in her direction. She cleared her throat.
“Shouldn’t you be up there? Or.. something?” She had to pull her face away from Charlie, a smirk forming on her lips. She’d be damned if he caught her actually enjoying the playful banter after all the hell she gave him leading up to this about it.
There was a shuffle behind her, a sudden shift in movement. It didn’t take a genius to know Charlie had sat up, the shirtless wanker hovering just behind her. The smirk across her lips expanded without her permission, a full length smile and a nibble of her cheek she was unable to stop from happening.
Without instruction to her body, Pansy turned to face him, Charlie sitting there with his exposed chest and freckled shoulders. She no longer knew if she was smiling or frowning or doing anything for that matter. She was partly overwhelmed with his face so close to hers but also equally annoyed he hadn’t answered her question.
“Would you rather me be up there?” Charlie placed a calloused finger under her chin, guiding her face to his. Pansy’s eyes fluttered closed, the anticipation damn near blinding her. Their lips met, slowly at first, his lips chapped in places yet held a tenderness to them she’d never felt before.
It was too much and not enough at all, Pansy taking that moment to push back, intensifying the way their lips moved. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue access to hers as his hands slid down the sides of her arms, pulling her up onto his lap. Their movements never swayed, even through the change in positions did their mouths stay together, the heat of their connection rising in both of them, pushing away the chill in the air.
His arms had wrapped themselves around her middle, her hands were on his chest. Pansy’s nails lightly grazed his skin as they parted, Charlie giving a light peck on her nose, then rested his forehead to hers. Her nails still played with his chest, guiding circles with her fingers. She let out a laugh in spite of herself, airy and light. Charlie leaned back to catch her eyes.
“I don’t mind your lack of attire so much anymore.” Charlie let out a booming laugh, one that echoed off the peak and rolled down the hills. He trapped her lips into another kiss, Pansy losing herself again in his embrace. They stayed up there together until the sun began to set.