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“I’ll set them outside. The door lock works. Just … wait for me to be downstairs before you open it. I don’t want to see you naked.”
“Please, as if I’d give you any ammunition for later by letting you see me naked.”
Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it quickly. Violet ignored him and began peeling off her shoes. By the time she was done, he was gone.
Taking a deep breath, she locked the door and slowly took off the rest of her clothes. She felt awkward and exposed, but at least she could get clean.
She stared at the tub longingly. It was sitting in the corner, angled to fit in the smaller space. It was painted white, but the claw feet were a brushed gold.
As much as Violet wanted to use it, the shower would be better if she wanted to get clean. It would be easier to wash away the events of the night if it all flowed down the drain. She stepped over to the white tile of the stall shower and turned on the water.
It took a while to get warm, but Violet got in the moment it was hot enough for her. As she showered, she heard Charlie come up the stairs and then leave. Despite wanting to stay in the hot water, she felt the need to check to be sure he hadn’t tried to come in.
But the door was still shut and locked. Violet let out a long breath of air and stepped back into the now warm spray of water.
Even though he lived alone, he had a bar of soap and shampoo in the guest bathroom. Violet eyed them, wondering if he’d care if she used them. But as the reality of how gross she was set in, she gave in and would buy him more if he got mad.
The hot spray of water eased her tense muscles slightly, and the bathroom was a warm oasis by the time she was done. Violet stepped out of the shower and peeked out of the hallway, grabbing the clothes in a quick swipe after making sure she was alone.
It felt so weird to be putting on Charlie’s clothes. He hadn’t given her anything but a basic set of pants and a shirt. They were comfy, but they weren’t hers.
Violet cleaned up after herself, making sure there was no trace of her. When she got to the guest room, she slowly sat on the bed, which groaned in protest. She winced at the sound, knowing she needed to stay out Charlie’s way while she was here.
Violet got under the quilt in the bed, which was warm and inviting in the chilly air of the house. She settled in, unable to fully relax, but happy to be warm.
Okay, so she was staying with Charlie Davis for at least two weeks. Charlie was being amicable, but definitely hated doing this.
And Violet hated it almost as much as he did.
But Violet was no stranger to being unwanted somewhere. She could leave no trace, and she was good at not pissing people off. They already had a deal to not fight until the wedding. That would have to extend to this weird situation too. But she could do it. She was good at pushing her feelings down and making herself invisible.
She would simply have to do it with Charlie too.
It was going to fucking suck. He had already hurt her six years ago, and now she had to make herself invisible inside of his home. She had dealt with worse things, but it was hard to remember those once her current reality set in.
In the silence of the darkened room, a single tear slid out of her eye.
Maybe her apartment hadn’t fallen on her, but it felt like something else did.
~
Charlie
Violet was quiet that night. Almost as if she was never even there.
Charlie would have to be in the living room to even hear her, but he expected her presence to be … larger. Everywhere else she seemed to take up all the space she could, even his own mind.
But now she was almost invisible.
When he woke up, he thought for a moment it had all been a dream, but then he saw her car from the kitchen window and knew she was around.
Just not loud about it.
Charlie wasn’t used to guests, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this, right? Shouldn’t she make a mess, or maybe annoy him by walking loudly?
Charlie found it to impossible to focus. He kept wondering if Violet was up to something, or if she were looking for him.
This was why he hated having guests over. They always broke his rhythm.
