*Mia's P.O.V*

My cheeks burn. Their heat numbs my head, snakes its way to the pit of my stomach, and makes a circus of it.

Charlie's silence doesn't help as he resumes cleaning me up, avoiding my gaze until he's done. He turns away from me when I wear my pyjamas, so what do I do? I loop my arms around his waist.

"Mia?"

"Hold me."

"That's not a good idea." He sighs. "How about we just lie down together."

"Ok."

So we do just that. Twenty minutes later, he falls asleep, facing the opposite side of the bed. I touch his hair. He doesn't move. I tug at it, and he stirs a little. How can he sleep after revealing that he liked our kiss? I can't. I grab a fistful of his hair.

Instantly, he rotates to face me, his smile tight-lipped, his gaze hardened, and his hands stationed under the sheets.

Charlie's expression is unbearable. Unconsionable.

"We can't start acting how we want without considering the stakes." At least, he talks.

"What stakes? The worst that can happen is that we die. You don't seem to care much for your life anyway."

"Mia."

"What?" I snap.

"Nothing."

"I hate when you do that, Charlie. It'd be better if you were happy with yourself and just didn't like me. I can manage -"

"But I do like you."

I blink. Silence seeps in again, channelling tingly sensations in my belly. My face is a sharp contrast to the rave inside - a blank slate for him to draw all over. And he sure does that with his eyes. Upon their landing on my lips, he whispers.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah." Suddenly, I'm close enough to feel his breath. He leans in for the kiss as though rehearsed, but his lips freeze against mine like it isn't.

He pulls back. Feeling dizzy already, I withdraw, too. Inhaling. Exhaling. I need to breathe. I need him happy. I want him to pour it all out, all his pain, disgust, and dread. I need him to live. The need is so dire that I'm tearing up.

Charlie cups my cheek, wet-handed. Realising that he's sobbing, I am about to wipe his tears when my tongue beats me to it.

He winces after I lick his cheek. "S-sorry. I should go now!"

"No. Stay... Charlie -"

Too late. He's up. The door bands loudly after him, shooting waves of pain up my temples.

An hour later, strange emotions haunt me. I twist and turn in bed until the hall's TV sound grabs my attention. Charlie must be the one awake. Is he in agony like me?

Reaching the hall, my suspicion is confirmed. His head turns, eyes beholding mine glossily.

"What are you watching?" I ask.

"News."

"Huh."

"Yep."

"Ok." I clasp my hands. "Goodnight -"

"Wait!"

Oh, how fast I turn.

"Urm. Urm- if-f you want to watch TV with me... ?"

Strained are my movements towards the couch. Eye contact must be avoided,
too. Anything to distract me from my aching urge. News can be a good distraction. "What are they saying?"

"They said Pamela will be on trial for several murder cases, including those of board members and her mother."

"She killed her mom?" My legs fold underneath me like his has, our body gestures syncing strangely. I look at him. He looks at the television. I focus on it, too.

I promise I hear a faint sound akin to a prayer. I turn back to him, only to meet his eyes yet again. Beautiful. Glimmering. Teary. Capable of burning the TV.

I grit my teeth, feeling heavy with hope and dread. The clock strikes eleven thirty. Almost midnight. Almost.

"Did... didn't her mom mention that she's not Palviokinsky's biological daughter, urr, i-in- in that video with Anton?" I croak.

A moment of contemplation makes Charlie retort. "Yes. The inheritance does pass for a strong motive. Do you know who else would notice that?"

"Yeltsins."

That's when Charlie breaks off from his staredown with the television.

I sigh at his expression. "You think they are involved?"

"Mia, they are involved. Pamela's case is a mixed bag of things she did, mostly to the Yeltsins, things she might have done and those she did not do. She'll be paying for your family's crimes, too. If she had the board members killed, explain why the Cavills were spared - or, or, why a bear of all beings ate the others. Doesn't your grandmother have bears in her garden?"

I shrug at his speculation. "Pompom is domesticated ... They are pets."

"Seriously, Mia?"

"It could just be a coincidence. Anyway, Pamela deserves what's coming at her."

"She deserves punishment, alright. But they are using her as a scapegoat at this point."

"What makes you so sure she didn't kill the board members?" I ask, then chuckle upon remembering my last visit to the Cavills' home. "Huh, Mr. House cleaner?"

"Yeah, yeah. I recorded them talking to someone about you blackmailing them, and the person on the other line was ... I couldn't catch a name, but it was a Yeltsin. The FBI agent who sent me there is working on it since the person used a voice changer, but he suspects your grandfather. Perhaps the Cavills were shown some mercy because they told on you."

"My grandfather? ... I am not sold on this theory," I say to maintain composure.

You know that I blackmailed the Cavills?

"Whatever the case, Mia -"

"If Pamela goes down, good. I'd rather that nutcase stay locked up so we can focus on the Yeltsins."

"Are you just saying that because you don't want me to get involved?" He cocks a brow. "Or are you ok with her paying for the Yeltsins' crimes?"

"The former." I frown.

"Too late." He retorts.

"Charlie, don't make the mistake of siding with her -"

"I'm not siding with anyone." He gets up. "This is not a game -"

"Of course not. However -" I freeze.

They can kill Charlie if he peeps around too much. They did not feel the need to do so before because they thought of him as a broken kid. Now, he's a rich kid - not so easy to belittle anymore. His attitude tells me he still does not care for his safety, though.

"Have you spoken to Pamela since her arrest?" I ask.

He nods. "She wanted to know how her brother was faring."

"Is she pleading guilty?"

"Yes and no."

"Meaning?" I cross my arms.

"I am not sure." Charlie facepalms. "Hold on."

Nodding, I watch him fidget with his phone. He vanishes into the dining room as the TV plays in the background, making me change the channel. In a blink, porn smacks my poor eyes. I sigh. Turn it off.

When I hear Charlie call out Monet's name though, I switch it back on.

"Hey, turn that off."

"Who's your hey?" I glare at Charlie, but he returns to his call. The call lasts so long that I manage to turn the TV on again without him noticing. Suddenly, I hate that he's talking to his ex even though it's to check her flight arrangements or whatever.

"Mia-" He finally catches on. Turn. The TV. Off."

"Make me," I reply hastily, expecting he'll cringe and snatch the remote. But he doesn't. Air is knocked out of my system as his body crashes into mine.

This is... nice. I pat his back. I gulp down the hunger for him. When it threatens to resurface, I blabber. I don't know what I am saying until I concur that he imagines doing those things to me.

The things on the TV. Me is stupid.

"That's not why I am hugging you... Let's not defile each other's thoughts."

"What?" I laugh. You think I fantasise about you too?"

"Do you?"

Silence.

"OF COURSE I DO, YOU IDIOT!"

"Mia, my ears!"

"AARGH!" I march to my room, bang the door and open it again. Of course, he reappears.

I cup his cheek. He winces. I let go only for him to grab my hand.

"Please, please." His grip is firm. "Mia, please. "

"Please what?"

"We... we have to talk about this too."

Oh, so you knew that but rather chose to talk about Pamela?

This boy is making me angry. I slam the door in his face and pace around.

"Mia?"

"What?!"

"I am not supporting Pamela. I'm just trying to make sense of what's true and not and... I am sorry."

"This is tiring. It's really tiring when you say that word." That's all I can say.

"Ok, Mia. I'll let it go."

That's a lie. Slowly, I reopen the door.

Charlie exhales in visible relief. Relief I don't share. I can't gather my thoughts now, let alone be relieved. Incoherent surmises surmount my instincts as I try to understand what is happening. What is happening to us? Why are we lying to each other?

Before we know it, a fistful of his shirt is mine to hold. He does not relent. I lock the door behind us.

*

*

Charlie's P.O.V.

I stand still. Right by the door.

"Hey," she says.

I unlock the door. She freezes, eyes wide open.

I croak. "Let me just go get- "

"Charlie, lock the door."

"Ok." My heart is going to explode if she keeps watching me like this. I know she is angry. I know she's lying. I know.

Her facial expression is a bit scary, especially with the way eye green pupils have darkened. Only when she turns away can I breathe. She slow-walks to the bed and beckons me to sit with her. I oblige. With eyes still calculated on me, she leans on my shoulder.

"You suck, by the way."

"I guess so." I rest on her head. A moment passes and she lies back. Shooting her a confused look, I lie too.

Ceiling gazing takes time. It feels like forever before she asks me to hold her again. And I do.

Her legs start to fasten around me, causing her shirt to coil up. Her exposed belly button quivers.

My brain blanks. Nothing and something takes over me. I ... I don't know how or why, but...

My mouth grazes her belly button and then journeys up, trailing whisperish kisses on her skin. It's so sudden that I only realise what I'm doing when I roll her shirt higher.

"Charlie..." Her free hand digs into my hair. Teeth sinks into her. My heart leaps for joy when she calls my name again.

"...Charlie, f-fuc -" She shuts her eyes.

I frown. "Look at me."

So she does.

"Nope." Her eyes close again, face glowing pink. She is so beautiful. She is. Words can't describe her, but I will try. Breathtakingly, she is. I kiss her knees, and they grow weak, making her release my waist. I prop myself on top of her. Unsure of my next step, I hug her again.

Only to then blurt.

"You're so breathtaking ... the world can end right now and I wouldn't mind spending my last second telling you how breathtaking you are."

*
*
*Mia's P.O.V*

What is there to say in response? I have no idea.

"Wow... Your last second, huh... How do you wish your day would be if the world were to end?" I nuzzle his cheek. Smiling, his hum makes for a calm tide.

"Mmm... I don't know, Mia....Mm. We are walking on the beach shore, holding hands and knowing everything is alright. Everyone is safe."

"Just that? I am thinking of the hotel near the beach where we can get some tasty salmon."

"That would be nice too."

"Won't we book a room?"

He shrugs. "If so, we should have a huge sea view. And a nice bathroom."

"You do love your baths, huh?" I smile. Hope you wouldn't mind me interrupting them."

"Interrupting them because?"

"Because I ordered ice cream. I'd be yelling for you to finish up, or else I'd eat it all."

"The Mia I envisioned is not that evil."

"The Charlie I envisioned would have let me bathe with him. We'd have ordered the ice cream afterwards."

Charlie makes a funny face to that. "We are not bathing together. You already have a habit of stealing my shampoo."

"I won't." I chuckle. "Whatever you say, just know that we are having sex for the rest of the day ... my day before the world ends, I mean."

That's when Charlie gives me his gaze of awe. I smirk, but he quickly changes his position to hug his knees.

He's worrying. Doubting. 'Til he faces me.

"Why wait? What the world ends before we know it?"

"You're right," I don't hesitate to retort.

Nodding, he gently brushes the tip of his fingers along my lipline. His fingers travel slowly, lingering longer on sensitive parts and leaving quakes in their wake. His feathery touches sends heat down between my legs. Fathoming what more he can do to me, I ask, "Can you kiss me down here too?"

"What ... do you mean?"

"No. No, it's fine."

Nodding hesitantly, he sucks my upper lip. A pause proceeds before he repeats this movement softly. When he stops, our eyes meet, the air growing thick with anticipation. He gently traces my jawline, sending shivers down my spine.

Our bodies have drawn irrevocably close, mine yearning for more contact than ever. I want to touch every part of him. I reach out and take his hand, my grib lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Receptive to my hidden message, he leans closer, his breath warm against my ear, whispering something too quiet to hear.

"What?"

"Should I continue?"

"Yes."

Instantly, his tongue glides right under mine and swirls it over, withdraws, attacks my mouth's roof, exits to nibble my lips, and repeats the process. I grab the bedpost for support, head swoshing in delight. I can taste him. Oh, goodness, I can taste him and I want more.

But it's when his teeth get into the mix that the hunger fully awakens in me. I yank his neck back to kiss the nape of his neck, relishing the flavour of his skin. I suck on his Adam's apple. Once his head stops wandering off, he'll wreck me - a threat evident in his restrained moan. Charlie squeezes his pillow, and I think.

What in the world? Why is he holding back?

His legs are pressed together. Rubbing my hips against them, I sigh, and he slaps the pillow. I catch his hand before he does it again, quickly rolling us over so I straddle him. His instant shock makes him bite his palm. The same hand moves to cover his face. I chuckle, feasting on the nape of his neck.

When he finally looks at me, his eyes look dazed.

It's as if he's drunk... and about to cry.

*
*
^

*

When I wake up, it's noon. Charlie's side of the bed is empty.

I enter his room and find materialistic traces of him. Not the actual person. His scent consoles me.

Something was wrong with him last night though. Is that why he's out?

My next visit is an hour later, and it is interrupted by hurried heavy footsteps. Charlie's steps aren't heavy. Suspicious, I hide in his closet. A guard-looking person drops a file on the desk, after which Charlie walks in with his phone to his ear. He tells the guy that he does not have to follow him inside, and the man says, "I suggest you let me be your bodyguard. You -"

"This is not even my house. You can't come in here like that."

"I'll take you home, Sir."

"Does it look like my life is in danger?" Charlie glares at the man and then addresses whoever is on the line. "Please, make him leave me alone. I will visit the farmers or whoever on my own."

"Sir, that is dangerous -"

Charlie hands the man his phone before he can finish. The guard exits while Charlie opens the file with apprehension.

"Oh, God. What to do?" Charlie sighs, manspreading on his bed. I have to fight off flashbacks as he takes out his laptop. He's on another call - facetime with Leo. All seems lighthearted until Charlie asks Leo if he has found his other laptop.

"Yes," Leo says seriously, "your memory space is almost full, and did Mr. Palviokinsky know you set up cameras in his villa?"

"No," Charlie admits.

"Well... What exactly are we looking for?"

"I want to see what happened the day his wife died."

Silence erupts. Charlie clears his throat, awaiting his friend's reply.

"Ok." Leo says, "It will take a minute or two."

"Take your time."

"Ok." The line dies. Charlie exhales and gets up, neglecting his laptop. Sneaking out in his absence, I stop to scan the file. I'm halfway through it when Leo reappears on the laptop screen.

"Is Charlie around?"

"No!" I squeak. Then, clearing my throat, I say, "He asked me to take the footage from you."

"What footage?" Why does Leo sound so clueless at times? I give him a deadpan, and he bats his eyelids. Clueless my foot.

"The footage from when Mrs Palviokinsky died."

"What do you need it for, Mia?"

"Same as him." I say, "Except, I will rope you in. Charlie needs more help than he lets on, but you know him. He's gonna meddle in dangerous shit alone, like-like -" I lift the file in exasperation. " This!"

"What's that?"

"The profiles of some farmers Pamela poached from her father. Charlie wants intel on how her business has fared this past decade. Sounds harmless, but knowing Pamela, something terrible could be going on in hindsight to have made her so desperate for the Yeltsins' money, and the Yeltsins are looking into it. Charlie wants to beat them to it, I guess."

"Hmm, send me the file. Might have to read it to see how I can help."

"Ok."

"And give Charlie the footage," Leo stresses.

*

I watch the footage. I drive off to Anton's place.

Anton answers the door, alone, hopefully.

"Hey," I say to my cousin, "can we talk about Mrs. Palviokinsky."

But he falls quiet. Far too long.

When Anton finally speaks, it's a whisper. "How do you know I killed her?"