She eases back into the moonlight, standing next to the bed. I look at her and even though the light is very dim in the room, I can make out those hazel eyes of hers, glinting like stars. My body is now on fire.
"Your eyes . . . are magnificent," I say, unable to stop myself. Where did those words come from? Me?
Charlotte stares at me, completely taken by surprised by my sudden outburst. She sighs. "That's the lack of the Purge speaking," she tells me. "You didn't mean to say that."
"Yes, I did," I correct her, while thinking what are you doing, Liam? Why are you saying this stuff and acting upon emotion instead of rationale? But I can't stop acting upon emotion. It seems more natural right now than rationale, especially when I gaze into Charlotte's eyes. It seems like every thought and every negative emotion is purged from my system in an instant. As I look at her, I don't feel any pain. I don't feel any anger. And I don't feel anything else but what I feel for her, whatever those feelings may be. "I have always been taken with your eyes. I just never had an opportunity to tell you this until now."
She doesn't speak for a while, as she considers what I said. She's trying to work out if I'm lying or not. "Thanks, I guess," she finally says. "Your eyes are not bad either." She smiles lightly.
At that moment, a miracle nearly unfolds. I feel an itch at the corners of my mouth and my lips nearly stretch upward into a smile. Until I stop it from happening. I don't smile. I'm not supposed to. I'm not supposed to compliment Charlotte either. This is unreal.
"How do you, you know, keep your emotions in check since you don't take the Purge?" I'm curious to know all of a sudden. "You hide a lot of your emotions very well. I can read people pretty thoroughly but you're a lot different than other people who have abandoned the Purge."
Charlotte hesitates. She seems very reluctant to be open with me and I can tell that she doesn't trust people very well. It has to be awkward and unexpected for her that a White Agent has taken a sudden interest in her. "I don't usually share my abnormality with others," she says quietly.
"Abnormality?" It's my turn to feel awkward for prying into her personal business, but I can't just shut off my curiosity as though it has an off switch. I want to know more about Charlotte than just facts I have read in her personal bio. "What abnormality?"
"I—I—" Once more, she hesitates.
Then, I figure out what she's trying to tell me. "Does it have to do with the experiment you participated in when you were five years old?"
Charlotte nods and then eyes me suspiciously. Even narrowed, her eyes are beautiful. "How do you know about that?"
I nearly smile then for some reason. "I'm the White Agent assigned to solving your case. It's my job to know as much about you as possible. But even files on you have their limits. I know about the experiment but not about what happened to you. All of that information is classified, even to me." I pause and read her pained facial expression. "Whatever happened to you, does it make you feel upset?"
Charlotte shakes her head. "No, it doesn't. It was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without it, I wouldn't be as adept at concealing my emotions or I wouldn't have gotten through the withdrawal period. I just . . . I don't know. I . . . you can think however you want about me. You can think of me as an enemy, or stupid for resisting the Purge and all of the laws that the Core has implemented. But I never want you to think of me as a freak, even if that's what I am."
"You're not a freak." I find it odd that I know exactly the right thing to say in this situation.
"Yes I am!" Charlotte cries shrilly. "I have a music player that has been graphed somehow to my brain so that I hear music all the time, like a radio that never cuts off. All day, every day, I constantly hear music like I have voices in my head. Sometimes it's annoying, other times I love it. But it still makes me a freak!"
I don't know what to say now. I never expected her to reveal to me something of that nature. It doesn't make a lick of sense. How is it possible for someone to have music always playing inside of their mind?
"My father did this to me," Charlotte continues softly. "Before he was sick, he was into that sort of thing, tampering with organics and fusing them with cybernetic implants. I was one of his guinea pigs because I, out of all of my sisters, was strong enough for my body to accept the neuro player. We all are freaks of nature, my sisters and me. Our bodies are a lot more durable than your average person and no one knows why. I still could have died and my father knew the risk, a risk he was willing to take to advance his research, not caring an ounce for my life at the time. But I never hated him for it, even after I stopped taking the Purge regularly. Maybe it's because I didn't die but I don't hate him. I love him."
A tear trickles from her left eye and rolls down her cheek. Love. I don't cringe upon hearing the word being spoken again. I may not understand the concept, but I can understand how people without the Purge impacting their daily lives can experience love. I understand now how anyone can allow emotions to surface when there's no a chemical in their body that tells them no. I want to allow every emotion to burst out of me at this second, especially my care for Charlotte.
I reach out for her hand because it seems like the proper thing to do. I comfort her, or at least I think that's what I'm doing. I seize one of her hands and she looks up at me, confused. Her hand feels warm inside my touch.
"So, right now, you have music playing in your head?" I question her.
She nods.
"But you can also carry on a conversation with me? Don't the songs distract you?"
"No. I'm used to it by now and I can control the volume without much conscious thought. When someone talks to me, the volume decreases, but when there's no other sounds for me to discern, the volume increases." She laughs suddenly. "You don't know how much of a hard time I'm having right now trying to keep the volume down as I talk to you though. Whenever I'm in your presence, the volume of the music always amplifies tremendously."
"Why is that?" I want to know.
She looks down at our hands. "Right now, it's mostly because you're holding my hand."
I stare at her. "Do you wish for me to release it?"
"No," she responds at once. "I don't want you to. I like it."
She likes it? That seems fine by me. I kind of like it too.
I notice something then that takes my attention from Charlotte briefly. More light starts to creep slowly into the bedroom. Morning is approaching rapidly and with it comes the Purge. I force myself to enjoy this last few moments with Charlotte. Once I take the Purge, I will be back to my old self and not this temporary self that I knew would come out of me when I awakened.
"Do you listen to the same songs over and over again?" I question her, still craving to know her better. I've never cared to get to know anyone before on a personal level. Not Ramos. Not Dr. Cato. Not even Sophia.
"No. I can add songs as I see fit and they play randomly depending upon my mood."
"How do you add songs?"
Charlotte pulls her hand free of mine and for a second I believe I have offended her somehow. I consider apologizing but then I watch quietly as she pulls aside a small flap of skin on the underside of her wrist at the spot where multiple veins intersect. She doesn't bleed at all but rather reveal a rectangular indention in her wrist that turns out to be a port similar to that of a USB connection. I'm astounded by the sight, to say the least.
"I've never shown anyone this other than my family, of course."
"I should consider myself lucky." And then, I do it. I smile, or grin rather. It feels amazing to finally loosen my constantly stiff facial expressions. It's much easier to relax and smile.
"Did you just grin?" Charlotte inquires, completely taken aback.
"I believe so," I answer.
"So, this is what you'd be like if you broke the rules more often?"
"I suppose. And you're a walking computer?"
She snickers. "Yes, I am. Just plug any transferring device into my wrist and music can be c
opied to my neuro player."
"What about other files, ones other than music?"
She shrugs and presses the flap of skin back down against her wrist to cover up the port. "I don't know. I've never tried anything else before. I'm afraid that the data might mess up the player somehow, or add random stuff to my memories, or disrupt my coordination or something."
I take her hand in mine again, already missing her touch. "I don't think you're a freak," I say sincerely.
She cocks an eyebrow. "You don't?"
"No, I think you're unique. You're special, Charlotte. I could tell that about you from the moment I first saw you. That's why I'm willing to risk everything to help prove that you're innocent. I believe wholeheartedly that you are. You're not a murderer. You were just a person caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I appreciate what you're saying," Charlotte tells me. She sounds sincere as well. "But you don't have to risk everything for me. I can find a way into BioLife and I can find out what your mother discovered. You've done enough for me and after what happened to you yesterday, you don't have to continue. I'm leading you astray, pulling you away from your duties. You're a White Agent. You shouldn't be missing Purge dosages or hanging out with people like me."
Again, she pulls her hand away but only after squeezing mine gently. She walks away from the bed to stand staring out the window, her back turned to me. Pain returns to me in full force as I attempt to slide out of bed. It takes me a while, a few minutes clinching my teeth, but I manage to do so. Moving is agony, but I cross the room in a couple of strides and I stand behind Charlotte, unsure of what to do next.
Allowing human instinct to guide me, I reach up and run my fingers along both of her shoulders and down her arms softly. She doesn't stop me, so I grab her arms and wheel her about to face me. She's openly crying now.
"I promised myself a long time ago that I would help you and now I make that same promise to you," I tell her soothingly. "I promise that no matter what, I will see this thing through to the very end. I am fulfilling my duty as a White Agent. We're supposed to seek out justice wherever it may hide and that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to BioLife with you, Charlotte. I have to as much as you have to. We're in this together now."
"I only hope you remember what you're saying when you're back on the Purge." She wipes her tears away furiously.
"I will," I promise.
And we stand there, inches apart, her arms in my grasp. Then, she stands slightly on her toes, frees herself from my slack grip, and plants her lips on my cheek. Her kiss is light and quick, no more than a peck, but it is enough for me to want to do the same to her. And more.
We stare at each other and I know she's waiting for my reaction. I lean towards her but then I stop myself, overanalyzing everything suddenly. I can't do this. I'm not supposed to do this. It's wrong on so many levels. Not only is it against the law, but I can't do it because Charlotte doesn't know that I'm the reason why Scarlett was arrested. I'm the person who Scarlett loved and now I seemed to have had the same effect on Charlotte. I can't do this because if we fail at accomplishing our goals, then it will be my fault that Charlotte ends up in jail too. No point in starting something that I may not be able to finish ever. And who knows what I will think or how I would feel once I'm back on the Purge. It's better not to tread that path now than to walk it and fall off of it later.
For a moment, I consider telling her about Scarlett but I don't want to. Maybe it's better that Charlotte never knows. Telling her could cost me the trust I've already gained from her. She would never be able to trust me again if she knew the truth.
"I should probably get some rest before sunrise," is my way of ending things here and now.
Charlotte stares at me. I'm certain she wanted to say something other than: "Yeah, you should. I probably need some too. I didn't sleep much last night. I was too busy . . . I was too busy watching you, hoping that you were okay. But now that I know you are okay, I think it is time to rest."
She walks over to the chair in the corner without hesitation. "You don't have to sleep there," I say.
"Where else am I going to sleep?" She asks, curling up into a ball in the chair. "This is the only spare bedroom in this place and you need the bed. You're hurt. I'm not."
I don't argue with her. I am in a lot of pain. I return to the bed and settle into it slowly. Once my head hits the pillow, I turn away from Charlotte so that she can't see the agony on my face that's not caused by the blunt force trauma I endured yesterday.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Charlotte
Currently Listening To: "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson
My lips are burning.
Not like they're chapped in the middle of the coldest weather or anything like that, but they burn pleasantly. I'm shocked I had the audacity to kiss Liam, even if it was on the cheek and probably meant nothing to him.
Some of the stuff he said confuses the heck out of me. I sit there quietly, watching the sun rise outside, as well as watching him. I wonder if he's asleep but I can't tell for sure because his back remains facing me the entire time. He missed a Purge dose, I remind myself. He didn't mean any of those kind words that he spoke to me.
But still, I take some pleasure in what he said and by some of his actions. I long for him to touch me again. For a stiff White Agent, he naturally knows how to be affectionate. It's hidden inside of him, somewhere beneath the boy constructed by the Purge and extensive White Agent training.
I should have kissed him on the lips. I should have learned from Aidan and Lilly and planted one right on him, even if I'm not an expert at such an act. I wonder what he would have done if I had done that. I'm betting he probably wouldn't have ended our conversation with the lame excuse that he fed me about resting. I mean, come on Liam, you were already asleep for thirty odd hours. You didn't need any more sleep.
Thinking about emulating Aidan and Lilly with kissing causes me to abandon my thoughts on what could have happened if I had chosen a different action with Liam. I think about the two of them now, wondering where Aidan is. Did he manage to escape from his pursuers? I hope he did. Whatever reason the Amber Army wanted him, I'm sure it's no worse than what I'm being blamed for. Aidan doesn't seem like a bad guy or a criminal. To me, he's a good person who just so happen to have exceptional skills with technology, while trying to raise a little brother on his own. What happened in Aidan's past that caused him to live like homeless person?
I consider how Lilly would feel once she found out that Aidan has either fled or was captured by the Amber Army. From how passionately she was kissing him that one day, she seemed to really care about him. But outside of catching them in the act, I would have never imagined them to be in a relationship. They were never open about anything. They never flirted like the couples in the books I've read. In fact, they typically argued over trivial stuff or made fun of each other. I mean, Aidan said I was prettier than Lilly when he first met me for crying out loud. I'm sure he was joking but people don't say stuff like that in front of their significant others, do they?
Getting into BioLife again is going to be a lot more difficult for me without having Aidan around. Liam's credentials are all fine and dandy and will gain him access to visit Dr. Cato's office, but I can't follow him. I don't know how to trick a scanner with a false vector. Neither does Lilly. And I know that such a valuable skill is not taught to White Agents.
I don't miss Aidan only because of what he can do with a keyboard, a mouse, and a monitor. He was vital to the success of my team of riff-raffs, but I miss his unusual positive outlook on life, despite how terrible everything was around him. He was always smiling, always cracking jokes, so full of vibrant energy. And losing him is yet another example of how I always lose someone to whom I'm close. Who's next? Lilly? Emma? Liam? I try to think about the what ifs, but one day soon I know I'll have to face each and every possibility. It's only a matter of time before I lose someone else. I don't have a very good track record so
far.
When I can't take sitting there any longer, I rise from the chair to stretch my long legs. I yawn loudly and Liam squirms briefly under the covers like a little worm. He's snoring lightly so maybe he did go back to sleep. I walk over to the window again and I peer outside. The sun is almost completely visible over the eastern horizon. It's nearly time for the Purge.
I jostle Liam awake and his eyes snap open at once. His eyes are not as dull of a blue as they used to be. One day off the Purge and they're already starting to sparkle. I wish he wouldn't return to the stupid gas. I wouldn't mind having the Liam from a few hours ago around all the time. I could never get used to him complimenting or touching me.
He looks up at me with those oceanic eyes of his and he smiles. I could never get used to seeing him smile either. But in a few more minutes, it'll all be over.
"Charlotte," he says sleepily. Even my name sounds good coming from his lips, which is where I'm currently staring by the way. I want to kiss him so badly that it hurts.
"It's time for you to get up," I tell him. "The Purge will be dispensed shortly."
"I don't want to," Liam grumbles. "I want to sleep."
"You've slept long enough," I remind him, tugging on one of his arms. He winces and I cease immediately. "Sorry," I say sheepishly.
"I don't want to take the Purge," Liam whines suddenly. "If I take the Purge, then I won't be able to do this anymore." And he grins literally from ear to ear.
I suppress a laugh. "You're delirious," I tell him. "Your day off the Purge is already starting to make you run the gamut of emotions. Get back in control of your feelings, Agent!" I say that previous line as stentorian as possible, while laughing my face off. "And get up so you can get ready. We still have work to do in case you've forgotten."
Liam sits up slowly and then he frowns. "Who was your friend on the monorail?" He asks out of nowhere. "You know, the guy that was zipping around the place like an insect in a botanical garden?"
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