The Lady of Charlotte, Part 9

In which Olivier offers a gift...

Read previous parts here.

Photo by Dan Senior on Unsplash

Chapter Four

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

“The curse is come upon me,” cried

The Lady of Shalott.

Eventually, the kiss came to an end. All good things had to, and this was no different. The storm weakened, then stopped completely, and Charlotte remembered (very annoyingly) that they were expected for a beer with Arnold and Ryan.

She pulled back and said as much.

Olivier blinked at her with absolute incomprehension. His lips were swollen, his hair a sexy, finger-strewn mess, and his pupils had swallowed up most of his eyes. Charlotte still sat on the table, and her legs were misted with spindrift from the storm.

“Arnold,” she said raggedly. “Ryan. They’re expecting us.”

“Ah.” He sighed and leaned against her, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat juddering though him. Or maybe that was her own. She already regretted ending the kiss. She should have just let the storm …