Charlie didn't sleep. Even as Remi's breathing slowed and evened beside her. Even when she touched his shoulder and he didn't so much as flinch. He slept, and she couldn't.

Laying next to him, she rubbed her hands against the sheets over and over, but it wouldn't go away. The slick, warm feeling of his blood on her fingers wouldn't go away. She could feel it under her nails and in the creases at her knuckles, the lines across her palms.

She rolled away from him, but it was like putting her back to a sleeping dragon. So she rolled back over to face him, and found that wasn't really any better. Especially when he turned his head and she could see the beautiful curve of his mouth and the diamond-cut plane of his cheek.

Finally, she reached over and touched him, trailing her finger lightly along the edge of his jaw to his mouth. His lips parted slightly when she touched them and instead of phantom blood, all she felt was his warm breath.

She quickly dropped her hand and rolled to her back, grimacing at the subtle discomfort that settled over her like a sheet. It wasn't like she was sleeping any tonight, regardless of position.

It took forever before the velvety black of night turned to cool grey. It took another small eternity before the sun had risen and it was a more acceptable time to get up. Glancing at her clock, she found that she had lasted until an hour and a half before she had to be at the hospital today.

Finally admitting absolute defeat, Charlie sat up, looking at the sunlight playing through the window. She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back and sighing a little when one of the vertebra in the middle of her back popped.

Then she turned to find Remi awake and watching her, his green eyes still glazed with sleep. Swallowing against her dry mouth, she twisted around and rose up onto her knees, making her way across the mattress to him.

He didn't say anything as she peeled the bandages back and peered at the wound. The skin was a little red from irritation, but it wasn't inflamed and she hummed in relief before smoothing the tape back down over his skin.

Her fingers hesitated at the edge of the tape, but then she pulled away. Over the three days he'd been gone, she'd had herself thoroughly convinced she didn't want to touch him any more. Last night had been nothing short of a relapse.

Pushing herself off the bed, she again looked at the clock, which didn't seem to be moving as fast as it should. She would just be dramatically early today.

An infinitely better option than staying here with him and saying something she'd absolutely regret.

"I have a shift from eight to eleven," she said, forcing her voice to a calm. "Stay if you want. There's food in the kitchen."

She prayed that he would call Leon and leave as soon as she walked out the door. But right now, she could still see the dark shadows of blood loss under his eyes and the white of the bandage peeked above the blankets. It was impossible to treat him harshly right now.

Remi sat up with a grimace, leaning against the wall behind him. She needed to get dressed.

Knowing he would take the hint, she stared pointedly at a shirt and pair of shorts hanging over the desk chair near the window and crossed her arms. When he didn't so much as blink, she said, "You can move, just nothing crazy for the next few weeks. No more killing strangers."

At least she hoped it had just been a stranger. The idea that it could have been someone more dangerous than a random mugger made her voice shake slightly, but only slightly. Her jaw tightened as she wondered again what exactly had happened last night.

Remi continued to hold his silence, but she could tell from the set in his jaw that he had no intention of getting up and leaving anytime soon. With a sigh, she decided to ditch the more subtle attempts.

"I need to get dressed. I need to leave in an hour."

"Okay," Remi drawled, something in his tone setting her teeth on edge.

"So go downstairs or something," she snapped, irritation starting to override any reservation that came from the fact that he was hurt. "This is my room."

"Technically," he started, and she was already seeing red, "it's my room."

Rage boiled her blood and she pointed to the open door. "Just go downstairs," she ordered.

Before he'd said that, she'd toyed with the idea of just leaving the room herself to get dressed. He had just made that impossible. Not when her pride was roaring in her ears like a wounded lion.

He flashed her a smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing. "Hurts to walk."

Something inside her itched to really make it hurt to walk, but that wouldn't help anything. Any sort of physical engagement with him was strictly taboo. She'd decided that on the second night he'd been in Colombia after having spent an hour or two with Jazira, drinking wine on her couch and talking about what had really happened with Grayson.

She decided to ignore the fact that she'd already broken it.

But she still refused to leave. "Fine," she said, drawing herself up to her full height.

If he wanted to play that game, she could play just as easily. He wasn't the only one allowed to tease.

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, before just as quickly stepping out of her pajama bottoms, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. She stood easily under his stare for a moment, savoring his wide eyes and parted lips. The fire that burst into being behind his irises, making the green dance with lust.

He started to sit up straight, then his jaw tightened and he fell back against the wall. His eyes burned over her, his visible hand fisted in the blankets.

Charlie couldn't help her smirk as she put on a bra, then her shirt. He had said it hurt to walk.

"Cruel, beautiful creature," he muttered, seemingly to himself.

The first word dragged her to a halt and she knew her own eyes were wide when he finally met her gaze.

"That's what you are," he rasped.

Something unpleasant plucked at her heart. Eyes narrowing, she walked slowly around the bed and sank to the mattress, sitting beside him. His tongue darted out to touch his upper lip as his gaze slid along her leg before meeting her own.

Then he shook his head, eyes clearing of whatever fantasy had just held him.

"What?" she growled.

"Cruel," he said easily. "And beautiful. It's a dangerous combination."

Of that, she was well aware. However, it was a description she would have applied to Remi. Not herself.

"Cruel." She let the word slide over her tongue, feeling it.

Charlie had come to the realization that she was many things. Manipulative. Distant. Ambitious. But she didn't think she was cruel.

Aren't you? A snide voice in the back of her head questioned her. What about Grayson? What about the lies to Jazira?

Something inside her darkened and she focused on Remi. "I'm cruel?" she asked, wondering if he could see the irony here.

He nodded lazily and she let out a sharp laugh, leaning closer to him. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked at her, predatory and... well, cruel. She had thought his hypocrisy had bounds at least.

"If I'm cruel," she said, wanting to throw barbed words as effectively as he had, "then what are you?"

"A mirror," he purred, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

She stayed still for a moment, trying to decide what he meant. Trying not to show the turmoil he'd thrown her into.

Her father had been cruel. Her mother had been cruel. She was not cruel. 

Memories to the contrary swirled up, leaving her insides riddled with frost.

At least... she hadn't meant to be.

"Mirrors show you something similar to yourself," she said, tracing the blue veins along the inside of his wrist. The smooth skin over muscle grounded her, putting her firmly back into the present. Sparing her from having to examine what he was saying too closely.

His only response was a raised eyebrow, and she was forced to realize exactly what he'd been saying. Nothing hypocritical—merely perceptive. And she hated him for it. Hated him even as she longed to lean forward and kiss him. Even as something small and insidious within her wanted to see just how deep their cruelty ran.

A breath tried to shudder its way out of her at the dark thought, but she caught it, and sneered instead.

You're just like me. You see the same creature in the mirror as I do. Something beautiful and terrible, with claws and fangs and scales.

His real meaning whispered through her, and now she was almost surprised he didn't shy away from the chill that must be emanating from her.

Suddenly, his hand gripped her elbow and he jerked her forward. He stopped before her lips could touch his, instead leaving her to hover in the space where their breath mixed and she could taste him on the tip of her tongue.

"Like calls to like, doesn't it?" he asked, and she drew in a sharp breath, managing to wrench herself away from him.

Her heart thudded in her chest, the only thought in her head to get away from him before he said something else so terrible and true. 

She snatched up the shorts and flew down to the first floor. At the base of the stairs, she put the pants on, realizing she hadn't brushed her hair, or her teeth. But she wouldn't risk going back up there again.

Not with a dragon in her bed, waiting for another opportunity to strike, to tear away her armor. 

She slipped on a pair of tan sandals, her hands shaking as she fixed the buckle under her ankles.

"Don't eat the lemon bars," she yelled up the stairs, grasping wildly for something even close to normalcy. "Those aren't for you."

She could almost hear his laugh chasing her as she darted out of the house, slamming the door behind her so hard that a man walking on the other side of the street gave her an odd glance. Charlie ran to the nearest trolley stop, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet as she waited for it to arrive.

When it did, she darted on board, earning several curses when she didn't wait for the people disembarking to clear completely away from the door. She swiped the transit pass she'd bought after the first day he'd been gone and collapsed into the nearest seat.

His words rang in her head over and over again, the warmth of his touch still searing into her arm, her fingertips. She hated the thrall he seemed to have over her, but she had no way to stop it. Biting fiercely into the inside of her cheek, she tried to focus on what was passing by out her window.

The motion of the trolley lulled her into a dazed state as she stared into the glass of her closed window. Her sleepless night caught her in an unforgiving wave and her eyelids drooped, even as she struggled to stay awake.

Before she knew it, the trolley was at her stop, and she stumbled off of it, making the short trek to the hospital itself. 

Charlie signed in and got dressed in a daze, glad that nobody had tried to speak to her yet. She wasn't certain she'd be able to string a coherent sentence together, and she knew it wasn't just because of her sleepless night.

Those she could handle. She'd had her fair share of all-nighters.

What she'd never had was someone she knew come stumbling across her doorstep bleeding everywhere and expecting her to fix it. And this morning hadn't exactly been a picnic either. She was grateful, for once, that she wasn't required to do anything more complicated than serve meals and fluff pillows.

The day passed around her in a blur. Charlie knew she was just going through the motions, but her mind was still hooked on his words. Tangled up and snarled with the idea that he was right. That she was cruel. That she really was nothing more than her father's daughter.

A warm hand on her shoulder had her whirling around, teeth clenched.

It was almost surprising when it was Jazira standing in front of her, and not Remi.

"Whoa," Jazira said mildly. "Take it easy, Char."

Charlie let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders relaxing as she met the easy gaze of her friend. "Sorry," she murmured. "Long night last night."

Her friend gave her an uncomfortably knowing look, but didn't say anything. Instead, she started to fight a smile.

"Worrying about this maybe?" Jazira said as she held up a letter.

Charlie's eyes widened as she caught sight of LSU's address. She had spent a short time living with Jazira when she'd applied to the school, and she'd kept Jazira's mailing address for the school. Grayson had still been living with his parents, and they had taken a rather sudden dislike to Charlie for reasons she still didn't know.

Now she wondered if something inside her had always wanted to keep separate from Grayson in some way. She had not updated her mailing address, even when she'd permanently moved in with him. 

Which was why Jazira was holding Charlie's future in her purple-nailed hands.

She snatched the letter from Jazira and tore it open, eyes scanning rapidly over the first three lines. Over the important lines.

"I'm in," she said faintly. "They accepted me."

Jazira started jumping up and down, a quiet squeal escaping her as she grabbed Charlie, spinning her around in a circle. Charlie laughed, her shock overridden by the joy of the moment and she hugged her friend. Jazira released her, shimmying her hips in a little happy dance.

"I told you," Jazira gloated. "Didn't I? I told you!"

Charlie looked again at the letter, savoring the words this time as she read them.

"Is that what I think it is?" a man's voice called across the hall.

They looked up to find Dr. Traven, one of the hospital's finest emergency surgeons, making his way over to them. Jazira grinned broadly at him, nodding her dark head enthusiastically. Traven ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, holding out his other hand for the letter.

Biting into her lip to try and contain her excitement, she handed it over.

Traven looked down at the letter and nodded his head in approval before folding it back up and handing it to Charlie. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners and said, "I never had a doubt. You better be coming back here for your internship, girlie."

A laugh escaped her, something light and marvelous filling her chest. She nodded and Traven winked at the both of them before his name was paged and he headed down the long hall. Jazira grabbed Charlie's hands, dragging her attention back to her friend.

Her hands were warm around Charlie's cold fingers, her eyes sparkling. "I can't tonight, but tomorrow," her grin widened, "we are celebrating. Drinks, dancing, the whole nine. Bring your new boy toy."

Charlie didn't mean to jerk away from Jazira at those words. That feeling of joy cracked in her chest and she shook her head. "Um," she tried to recover, giving Jaz a small smile, "can't. He's still out of town."

"Hmph." Jazira narrowed her eyes.

A few days ago, Charlie had admitted that she was kind of seeing someone when Jazira had asked if she wanted a little help getting over Grayson. Jazira had never subscribed to the idea that there was a set, appropriate amount of time to get over someone before moving on to something better and enjoyed playing matchmaker far too much. She was definitely a woman of action above and beyond anything Charlie had ever seen, especially after Charlie had finally relented and told her that she hadn't been in love with Grayson for a long time.

Charlie knew Jazira suspected that the person she was seeing was Remi, and that she disapproved, but she hadn't pushed too hard. The only thing she'd said about it was that if Charlie wound up disappearing, she knew exactly who to send the police after.

"Charlie," Jaz started, then shook her head with a sigh.

Once again, she grabbed Charlie's hands and pulled her to a slightly more private corner of the hallway. Her eyes had gone from jubilant to extremely concerned, and Charlie braced herself for what was coming.

She was surprised it had taken this long. It had been nearly two weeks since this madness had descended around her. Jaz was way too perceptive. She should have known it wouldn't take very much for her friend to figure out what had had her so distracted lately.

"Look," her friend said. "I don't know if this is just some kind of insane rebound, or what your deal is with this guy. You said you weren't going to talk to him, but you did. Then you told me that you're looking after someone's house while they're abroad." This earned Charlie a dry look as Jazira spoke.

Now she winced. She'd known that was flimsy at best when she'd told Jazira she'd found a place to stay on St. Ann's, acting as a house-sitter instead of paying rent. But she wasn't going to tell Jazira every last truth of her current situation. She wouldn't drag her best friend into the absolute disaster her life had become.

"I'm just worried about you, okay?" Jazira finally said after a too-long silence. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I want you to know that you can. Just don't lie to me anymore, please."

Tears burned at Charlie's eyes and she ducked her head, not wanting Jazira to see. Slowly, she nodded, unable to give any other answer in that moment. Jazira wrapped her arms around Charlie, who returned the gesture.

"Bring him, don't bring him," Jazira murmured in her ear. "We're still going out tomorrow night."

This inspired a small laugh from Charlie as Jaz pulled away. They exchanged tentative smiles.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, because that was the best she could do right now. 

Jazira hugged her again. "I know it's hard, Charlie, even if you didn't love him. Just make sure you aren't running to something worse."

She already had.

But she nodded and smiled again before they finally had to go their separate ways. Charlie clocked out, smiling and nodding every time someone congratulated her. Apparently word traveled faster in a hospital than it did in a high school.

Charlie walked slowly home, ignoring the midday heat. A light sheen of humidity and sweat made her skin sticky and all she wanted was to take a cool shower and collapse into her bed.

She wasn't very well equipped to deal with such emotional days. Death didn't bother her, and she'd been living with pain for so long it was practically an old friend. Even her days in the oncology wards hadn't left her feeling like this. But the personal onslaught she'd endured today from Remi, Jazira and her own thoughts had sucked all the vitality from her. 

Unlocking the door, she found Remi had replaced the blood-stained couch and was currently lounging on the new one. It was black, and went quite well with the grey paint she had chosen what seemed like eons ago. The sound of stock market reports drifted toward her as she stared blankly at him.

Remi muted the TV and looked at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt and faded jeans and still somehow managed to look sinfully good. Charlie somehow suspected it was Moira he had called, and not Leon.

Unsure of what else to do, and completely wrung out, she tossed the acceptance letter into his lap as she moved past him toward the kitchen. Her stomach was growling.

"You got in," he called.

"I did," she answered, frowning at the BLT she found waiting for her on the counter. The bread was still warm. "Did you just make this?"

"Ordered it," he said, "from the deli down the street. I already ate."

Charlie picked up the plate and went back into the living room, letting out a sigh when she sat next to him. His brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything. She was glad for the quiet as she ate, savoring the juicy tomato slices and hickory-smoked bacon.

"What's wrong with you," he finally asked, voice non-combative.

Charlie blinked. She'd been asking herself the same question all day, and now she knew the answer. She set the plate down on the coffee table and turned to him.

"You," she said. "You're what's wrong with me."