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With that, he stalks out, and I curse myself for being a prying cow. I’m ruining everything, and maybe I’d be better off leaving them as they were before I landed in their laps and turned their worlds shit-side up.
28
EVER
When I step into the living room after finishing my coffee, I know something’s up. Charlie lounges on the couch, a grin lighting up his face like he’s got the world’s biggest secret. His eyes, those hazel pools of trouble, fix on me and don’t let go.
“Hey, Ever,” he says, all casual like we’re just two friends hanging out, not like he’s about to drop some cryptic bomb on me.
“What’s going on?”
“Riddle me this. I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind. What am I?”
“Huh?” I chew on my bottom lip, rolling his words around in my head. It’s more than just a riddle; it’s a challenge, a battle of wits where he’s the cat and I’m the mouse. Charlie leans back, waiting, watching, and I can almost hear the tick-tock of an invisible clock counting down.
My brain kicks into gear, grateful for something to think about that isn’t me having to pack my bags and find somewhere else to live so I can leave these guys in peace. The riddle hangs in the air between us, a taunting puzzle waiting to be solved. I scan Charlie’s face for any hint, but there’s nothing—just that smug look painting his features as if he’s already won.
“Just give me a second.”
Charlie’s eyes are sharp, hawk-like, not missing a thing. They’re fixed on me, and I can feel the weight of his gaze. It’s like he’s trying to peel back my layers with those piercing eyes, looking for a crack in my armour.
I push my thoughts away from him and towards the riddle, forcing my mind to cut through the fog of distraction. Charlie waits.
“Wind...” I mutter, grasping at the elusive answer, dancing just out of reach. Charlie’s lips tilt upward, and I know he’s enjoying this far too much.
I chew on my bottom lip, buying time. The riddle’s a knot, and I’m picking at it with everything I’ve got. “Is it... time?” I venture, my voice less confident than I’d like.
Charlie throws his head back, a laugh bouncing off the walls of the living room. “Not even close,” he says, but the twinkle in his eye doesn’t dim. Damn him for enjoying this.
“Come on then, give me a clue.” I cross my arms, trying to look annoyed rather than desperate.
He shakes his head, that mischievous grin notbudging an inch. “Where’s the fun in that, Ever? A riddle’s nothing if not a test of wits.”
“An echo?”
“Hmm.” He slides closer and leans in; the warmth of his breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “What asks but never answers?”
It’s a different game now, his voice a low caress that sends shivers down my spine. The room feels too small, charged with a current that’s both thrilling and terrifying. I blink, trying to keep my wits about me.
“An owl,” I breathe out, almost without thinking. But the flutter in my chest isn’t about the riddle; it’s him, this space between us that’s electric and alive.
“Smart girl,” Charlie murmurs, approval lacing his tone. His eyes search mine, flickering with something dark and unreadable. I’m caught in their pull, drowning in a sea I’ve no map to navigate.
“Hit me with another,” I challenge, fighting to keep my voice steady. Charlie’s grin is all sharp edges, promising an abyss that might just swallow me whole if I’m not careful. But I can’t help wanting to dive in, to see what’s hidden in the depths of those clever riddles and that enigmatic smile.
“What dances with light but captures darkness, speaks without a voice and listens without ears?” he murmurs, every word dipped in shadows and secrets.
I swallow hard, my brain firing on all cylinders. The room is still, the only sound our breathing and the tick of the old grandfather clock. I can almost touch the tension between us; it’s alive, a thirdpresence that wraps around me, urging me to delve deeper and think harder.
Charlie’s eyes hold mine, hazel depths with flecks of gold, daring me to unravel his enigma. My heart hammers against my ribs—not just from the challenge, but from him, from the heat radiating off his body and the electric charge of his stare.
“Is it a photograph?” I venture, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. Charlie remains silent, but his gaze never wavers, and something in the air shifts, drawing us closer in a dance neither of us knows the steps to.
Charlie tilts back, his smirk sharp as a blade. His eyes glint, eager for my next move. It’s like he’s thrown down a gauntlet, daring me to pick it up.
“Time’s ticking,” he taunts, voice smooth as silk and just as deceiving.
I exhale, slow and controlled. Can’t let him see me sweat. “A shadow,” I say, locking onto his gaze with all the confidence I’ve got.
