Master Charlie Was Tricked By A Woman

York Charlie was finally drunk.

Tall as he was, he crouched down on the dining room table, his thick hair black in the moonlight, and that half-contoured face facing the glass window and the bright moon with the cold beauty of an exotic mountain.

Blanche Capra stood looking behind him for a long time.

Time thus passed unnoticed as the moonlight deflected in the flow of Blanche Capra’s eyes. And it was then that Blanche Capra moved, and with some effort she was finally able to drag the drunken York Charlie into the bedroom. Just as she was about to put him on the bed, she didn’t expect York Charlie to suddenly open his eyes, and with a flip, the two of them were instantly in the wrong position, and Blanche Capra was pinned underneath him instead.

Blanche Capra subconsciously want to push him away, only to see York Charlie slowly lowered his eyes, two dark eyes reflected her white face, as decorated with the bright moon of the black dome, the light is clear and hazy interlaced, a moment called her to look at the frozen.

York Charlie half-converged eyes looked at her for a long time, and suddenly, without warning, from the corner of his left eye jumped out of a crystal tear, along the wings of the nose sliding down, condensed in the tip of his nose shaking. Blanche Capra so dumbfounded to see this tear, like a falling meteor, fell straight into her eyes.

Cool, stimulating Blanche Capra violently closed her eyes, that moment, as if she saw that drop of tears by their own eyes penetrated into the long-dried heart, that buried in a corner of the heart, dead branch buds, suddenly slowly raised its head.

York Charlie’s hoarse voice resounded above, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Brandi …” a light tremor of pain, guilt, and inability to restrain herself.

Blanche Capra was about to open her eyes to see, when his eyes suddenly closed in a meeting of gazes, those thick lupines dropping like a kowtow, and Blanche Capra didn’t have time to react before his prone body collapsed, his head burying itself into the crook of one side of her neck, his hot exhaled breath almost reddening her face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry …,” he murmured in her ear as he just crouched over her, his voice as close and choked as it had ever been.

“I love you, Brandi …” he was still saying, “How could I ever hurt you, how could I ever leave you … “His breath was that unsteady, and another tear came out, wetting Blanche Capra’s neck, warm, a tear that had arrived without travelling any distance, but one that had been brewing for many hours and had finally arrived.

So heartbreaking, so loving and painful to Blanche Capra.

What is it that makes each other so far away from each other, heart to heart only when it hurts like this? Blanche Capra cried silently.

As the night wore on and York Charlie finally drifted off to sleep, Blanche Capra pushed him aside and looked at his wet eyelashes and furrowed brow, and sat in silence for a long time until the screen of his mobile phone lit up the low darkness.

Blanche Capra tucked him in, then picked up his phone, only to see a text message from Shireen Miller.

“You’re not coming home again tonight? You haven’t been with me in ages.”

Blanche Capra’s heart felt as if it had suddenly been bitten by something, and the muscles throughout her body ached and tightened. She stared at her phone for a few more moments until the screen went dark and she rose to her feet.

She was fooling herself, she simply couldn’t let go of all the hurt that York Charlie had given her, what happened was what happened, how could it be erased from her memory so easily? Besides, he was the one who made her home a home, so how could she let him go just like that?

Blanche Capra and is self-deprecating and heartbreaking to look at the bed York Charlie last look, I am sorry, I can not let go of you, there is no way to let go of their own … Perhaps the rest of our lives, our grudges will only get deeper and deeper, can never be unravelled again.

Blanche Capra took out a file bag from under the bed, and found York Charlie’s car keys, and then went out with a mobile phone playing light.

Blanche Capra searched for York Charlie’s parked car downstairs, unlocked it and went inside, and found what she was looking for in a stack of files. Blanche Capra replaced the one that York Charlie had put in his car with the one that Moore Howard had given her last time, and then looked for a corner and burned his copy, burying the ashes in the dirt of the flower beds.

It was a night when Blanche Capra was not meant to sleep. She nestled into the couch with her eyes closed, and it didn’t take long for dawn to arrive.

After a night without sleep and a moment’s brain, Blanche Capra felt a million times more tired, so she went to take a shower to try to relieve herself. By the time he came out of the shower, York Charlie was sitting on the couch, all languid and even, actually, a little dishevelled.

Blanche Capra thought she was mistaken.

York Charlie saw her, frowned, and said, “I was … last night.”

Blanche Capra immediately picked up on his words, “You were drunk last night and went to sleep afterwards.”

“You …” York Charlie thought she looked tired too.

Blanche Capra read him, “I didn’t what, I didn’t sleep well yesterday when you kept talking in your sleep.” She half lowered her eyebrows at the mention of sleep talking.

York Charlie froze, how could he talk in his sleep? So he didn’t know exactly how he felt inside, he froze and asked her, “What did I say?” What did she hear?

“You kept calling out a woman’s name,” Blanche Capra lifted her glass and took a sip of water to push down the tightness between her throats, “kept calling out … Brandi. York Charlie, is she, is she your favourite woman?”

York Charlie half-curled his eyes, and his relaxed five fingers tightened slightly before he spat out a word slowly and lowly, again as if sighing, “Yes …”

“With a pop, the glass in Blanche Capra’s hand fell out of the air and onto the floor, shattering into pieces, some of the glass crumbs popping out.

York Charlie rose from the sofa in a hurry, only to see half of Blanche Capra’s face swept up in her hasty crouch, dull and stony, and her long eyelashes fluttering.

York Charlie approached her and crouched down with her, and saw her reach for the splinters on the floor, and before he could stop them, the white fingers were seeping with bright red blood.

Blanche Capra’s hand seemed to tremble in pain, her mouth subconsciously hissed, York Charlie hurriedly grasped her injured hand in his palm, his slender five fingers gently wrapped around it, and raised his head again to look at her with a frown, “Why are you so careless? How old are you?” The tone had heartache and helplessness.

Blanche Capra looked at the familiar pampered look in his eyes, but was stunned, then jerked her hand back.

York Charlie sighed, “Give it to me and obey.”

Blanche Capra didn’t say anything, but York Charlie just grabbed her hand and led her to her feet again, “Do you have any band-aids at home?”

She shook her head and deliberately smiled at him, “It’s fine, it’s just a little bit of broken skin, I don’t need to put that on, I’ll just rinse it off with water.”

York Charlie pulled her towards the bathroom, cupping that injured finger of hers in one hand and rinsing it carefully against the water, “It’s time to rinse it out with water,” and then staring at her finger when it was done, “but the band-aid is still necessary.”

Blanche Capra was led around the room by him like a puppet on strings.

Finally it was he who sighed and told her, “If you can’t find it, forget it, I’ll go downstairs and get it, I’ll be back soon, you sit here and wait for me.”Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Blanche Capra froze and nodded.

Just as he opened the door to go out, Blanche Capra suddenly came up to him, “I’ll go with you!”

York Charlie looked at her a little puzzled.

“I don’t like waiting for people.” She said.

Since that time she had never liked to wait for anyone. Because maybe if you wait, you might not be able to wait.