Zak POV

Rolling over in the bed, I put my hand out for the warm body that was suppose to be opposite, but when I feel the cold mattress, I grumble. It takes roughly ten seconds for me to come to with the world and to register what that clicking noise was.. The laptop keys being brutally attacked.

"Put it down." I croak, sleep still heavy in my voice.

"I'm almost done." The soft voice answers.

"Lies." I mutter back, flipping onto my front in a hope that sleep will take me back under.

But it doesn't and all I can hear is the clicking of keys which stop every so often as Charlie pauses to read her work. Then she is back to it, typing away.

Click, click, click, click.

When I realise that the clicking isn't going to stop anytime soon, I push myself up, and look across to the woman, sat in the armchair across my bedroom, using her knees to balance the laptop on, whilst she writes. The laptop screen flooding her in white light, making her look like a heavenly angel.

I've had my fair share of women, all from different walks of life and different job roles. When Charlie told me that she was a writer, I was intrigued and kinda liked that her work meant she could be on the road with me, if she wanted too. I had taken her all across America with me whilst I was investigating and whilst I was in lockdowns or conducting interviews, Charlie would be clicking away or researching for her story.

The flexibility of her work has made our relationship stronger and that is something I have always worried about in the past. We have an understanding for each others work and Charlie inspires me to be a better story teller when giving viewer at home, history of the locations.

What I didn't expect about having a writer girlfriend, was how attached she was to the laptop, at any and all hours of the night. I am pretty sure that we went to bed together. I can remember she had fallen asleep first, which meant that she had woken up at some point and an idea or writers bug as we called it, had struck her.

I also didn't expect her to zone out as much as she does. We could be talking, when a vacant look would come across her eyes and I would know instantly that I have lost her as her mind works through the creative process. And what a mind she has...

A few months ago, I had woken up to the bi-fold doors leading into the garden, covered in sticky notes and black pen having been drawn on the glass, linking each individual square. Sat on the floor, staring up at it all, was Charlie, in my shirt with her hair twisted up in some knot and secured with a pen cruelly shoved through it. It was only when I got up and looked at each note, I realised how busy her mind must be and I found respect for her gift of writing.

Thankfully, she had hindsight and used a whiteboard marker on the glass, so that none of it permanently marked.

"You should be using your notebooks." I yawn.

I had taken Charlie shopping the morning after the sticky note display and told her to get anything and every thing she wanted. Even now, a smile creeps onto my lips as I remember her wary look at me before she shuffled off and returned with a single notepad and a pen with a wobbly llama on top of it.

It was then, that I realised how low maintenance she was and how different she was from the other women I had dated. There was no endless demands for days shopping, expensive shoes, bags, jewellery or restaurant dinners. No, this little enigma, sat clicking away on the laptop across the room, was happy with homemade food, Ben and Jerry's Ice-cream, movie nights and a wobbly llama pen.

So I got a basket and grabbed her hand before taking her down every single aisle of the stationery shop, getting her everything that I thought she might need. From notebooks, to pens, highlighters, planners, list pads, sticky notes, journals, and a pencil case to match her llama pen. All whilst she protested that I didn't need to buy her anything and that she would pay me back, whatever the cost.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." She says, looking up from the screen briefly.

"Don't be sorry. But you're burning the candle at both ends, I don't want you to end up sick."

She smiles. "I promise, I'm almost done."

I had heard that answer before, it usually meant that she would be done whenever her wonderful, beautiful mind was exhausted. It could be hours yet...

I yawn and feel sleep creeping back into my consciousness, when I feel the bed dip and a cold body wiggle into me.

"Told you I was almost done." She whispers, giving me a quick kiss.

I hum. "Your almost done is another three to four hours."

"True."

"Does that mind of yours ever switch off?" I ask, pulling her into my body.

"Sometimes. But when I get inspiration, I have to go with it. One day, I might get the dreaded writers block and I'll be stuck."

"Which means no more getting out of bed or having to share you with the laptop?" I question making her giggle.

"Don't you manifest it, Bagans." She warns. "Your work is important to you, as mine is to me."

"I know, I'm just selfish and don't like sharing." I answer lazily.

"I can tell." She yawns.

I give her a squeeze and relax, letting sleep take me back under. Part of me hopes that when I wake up, she won't be clicking away again.

***

I'm woken by the sun and pull the bedding over my head, to block it out. But the bedding is whipped off me and I instantly protest, only to be pounced on by Charlie.

"Wakey, Wakey. The world is waiting!" She sings making me groan.

"The world can fuck off." I answer making her laugh. "Why are you so energetic? Night owl.."

"Because I got an email back this morning and it is good news.."

I crank one eye open. "Go on.."

"Remember that writers convention I was telling you about? The hotel I stayed in.."

"The big ass hotel? The haunted one?"

She grins "The very one. Well I emailed them a few weeks ago and guess what... They have agreed to let you guys film there."

"For real?" I ask, opening both eyes. "But how did you get them to agree? The channel tried and they said no."

"Well, at the convention I made friends.. The hotel owners daughter being one of them. Badabing badaboom! Access all areas, baby!"

My mind begins firing on all cylinders as I try to recall all the information Charlie had retained in one single visit to the place. Another thing about writers, incredible memory. "There was a prince who killed himself there, right?"

"Yep. As well as a soldier who is seen walking the corridors, a maid who wails looking for her lost baby, the hanged man in room 333, disembodied voices, shadow figures and a whole lotta unexplainable incidents." She tells me, bouncing up and down with excitement. "So, you in?"

"Absolutely!"

She grins. "Good, cause I've called the channel whilst you've been playing Sleeping Beauty, said I was your assistant and got you booked into the hotel for two days time."

I sit up. "Are you serious?"

"As I live and breath." Charlie responds. "There is a condition though.."

"Okay.."

"That I come with you."

"I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind."

"Good. We are also sleeping at the hotel. Rooms are booked! All we got to do is show up." She tells me.

Stealing a kiss, I smile. "You're awesome, you know that?"

"Even with my job?"

"Especially with your job. You're amazing." I tell her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I promise I'll try to be less jealous of the laptop, in future."

She giggles. "Well we can't say fairer than that. Now get your butt in the shower, we have to pack because you are not leaving it until last minute."

"I thought that I might leave it for you to do." I joke.

"Not a chance. Although I will help. Come on, get up and seize the day. Carpe diem!"

"Only if I can have one more kiss."

"Nu-uh. You got funky breath, Mr I-don't-snore." She teases.

Before I can grab her and wrestle her back onto the bed, she slips away and runs out the room with a giggle. I give a hearty yawn and stretch before pulling myself out of bed, but I can't help but stop by her laptop and look up the hotel. The more I read, the more excited I get at what evidence we might capture.

I tell myself that I need to stop looking before I too become chained to this computer, but as I put it down, I see a wad of paper on the sideboard with the hotel's named stamped on the front. There is a sticky note in Charlie's writing too.

- Hello Nosey! Get in the shower, you can read this after you make me breakfast! C xx

A laugh escapes my chest and I do as the note says, because we both know today is going to be a day of researching and writing. The one thing we have in common, is we are both dedicated to our work and both understand the importance of each others. Sharing our creative minds alike to further ourselves and each other.

Being with a writer maybe difficult, with the odd and long hours. But being with a paranormal investigator must be even harder.

Looking out the bedroom window, I can see into the kitchen and find Charlie dancing around in my shirt with Gracie around her legs.

I've never felt happier and I'm head over heels for a woman whose essential shopping item was a llama pen, who has a beautiful soul and has a mind so complexed and creative that it astounds me daily. So much so, I think that she is the one...

Now I best get my ass in the shower because that information pack she's complied is getting more tempting by the second!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Authors note:

Hello my lovely readers!

Just a quick message to say, I am running out of ideas for one-shots, so if you want to request, now is the time!

Also, if you have messaged me one and it's not up here yet, please message me again to bump the request back to the top of my inbox. I have so many inbox messages that I feel as if I've lost some requests along the way (at least I think I have.)

Newbie xx