Chapter Three- Miranda

In chapter three, Miranda realizes that Charlie has feelings for her, but she tries to fight her feelings for him.

I opened my eyes to a face.  It was actually quite a friendly face, but it startled me.

"Hello,"  It said.

I jumped.  I regained my mental stability quickly enough, but not as quickly as I would have.  But it made me value my sanity even more.  "Charlie!" I yelled.  I probably shouldn't have yelled, but in the few hours I had the chance to get to know him, I loved him.  

He smiled down at me, but his eyes were sad.  But I decided to let it go.  He was quite attractive, with a tan, muscular body.  His eyes were emerald green, his nose a perfect slope.  He pressed a cold cloth to my face, making the burning flesh just feel warm.  His eyes taking in everything and giving away nothing. 

A middle-aged man walked through the hut's curtains, making the whole room smell like pine.  His name was Mr. Kabul.  The pine-smell he was wearing was home made cologne.  Consisting of ground up pine needles mixed with water.  We had a lot of time to get to know while I was in the sick bay.

"Miranda, this may be your hut.  If you choose to stay.  In a week or two, another storm will hit, and you may go back if that is what you decide.  He said. 

I nodded my head.  And stole a glance at Charlie.  When I nodded my head, his eyes hardened even more.  His jaw was set and he pretended to be extremely interested with something in the dirt floor.

"Well, we better go to the campfire then, off we go!"  He skipped off out of the small hut.  

It was just Charlie and me. 

"We better get going, come on,"  He said, never meeting my eyes, his words feeling like ice on my skin.  

I tried to look all pitiful and such, but he left before I could even manage a whimper.  I sat up, propping the pillow against the mud walls, and struggled to stand.  My head felt light as I scanned around.  The house was decent-sized.  It felt weird calling it a house.  It was more like a shelter, cabin, or a mud hut of some sort.  

I pulled the sheer curtains apart to reveal the shining sun, and the rest of the village.

Charlie waited outside for me.  I knew he would.  I smiled to myself.  Even if he was mad, he still cared.  That's a good trait for a boyfriend-- especially a husband.  What was I thinking?  I'm taking it a little fast, don't you think Miranda?  Well, it's not like I'm going to stay here long enough to fall in love, right?  I just pushed the thought out of my mind and walked toward the campfire, followed by Charlie. 

The campfire was like the one you see in the movies.  It was a big bonfire in the middle of the community, surrounded by carved, long benches.  It was ever-burning now, because it was freezing cold in Hendmore.  The log benches had intricate carvings of war, the treaty, and any other thing you could imagine.  Horses, past tribe leaders, Mr. and Mrs. Kabul, and a large, open field. How curious.

The smoke burned my eyes and stung my throat.  I coughed, over, over, and over.  I stopped, not wanting to go any closer.  Charlie patted my back.  We stopped walking and I coughed some more.  I could feel my face turning red.  My hair made a wall between me and the staring villagers.

"Its hard at first, but you get used to it,"  Charlie whispered in my ear.  His breath was warm and soft.  It made my whole body feel warm, but it made me weak in the knees.  But I was filled with a new sense of energy.  I had this overwhelming urge to turn my head and kiss him.  Just kiss him, right on the lips.  But then I would seem crazy, and I did not want to seem crazy in front of all these people.  Especially when they were all armed with some sort of weapon.  Arrows, shields, rocks, slingshots, and swords were all over the place. 

"Thanks,"  I said.  I turned my head forward with new-found confidence.  

The log benches were more comfortable than their appearance led them to be.  The wood was worn and tired, a small indention where hundreds had sat.  My eyes still burned, but Charlie was right.  You did kind of get used to the smoke and flames.  I stopped coughing, which was a big step forward.  Especially with my asthma.  But it was still a danger. 

"I... I have asthma,"  I told Charlie.  I'm not sure what a huge bonfire would do to it, but you never know.  With all the recent panic, it would likely flare up any minute.  Just a pro-caution. 

Charlie nodded sternly.  "Then we won't stay long,"  He spoke with his deep voice, poking the fire with a stick. 

I Wished he would just do something to show that he liked me.  God, this was so bothersome! I wish he wouldn't be so confusing!  I thought that girls were supposed to be the confusing ones, and guys are supposed to be all simple.  I guess dad wasn't that crazy at all.  Things were different here.  Or I was just having another mental brain block.  I was never good at flirting or things or that sort. 

The fire felt good.  The heat was at a perfect temperature, the cold winter air being fended off by the flame.  Drums rumbled off to my right, and they were getting closer.  I tensed, not knowing what the drums meant.  Was it a sign of war?  Of peace?  Or was it just part of their culture?

"Its a tradition, don't worry,"  Charlie said. 

How did he do that?  Know when I was worried, happy, scared?  And why did he have mood swings that makes me think he's PMS-ing?

Well, two can play at that game. 

I focused my eyes on the flames ahead.  They seemed to dance to the beat of the drums, forming shapes out of the fire.  Or, were those actual pictures and forms coming out of the flames?  Geez, the smoke must really be making me hazy.  The burn crept up my throat, tickling it.  I stared coughing again, covering my mouth with my hand.

Charlie took something from his side, a cup, with some sort of watery-looking thing in it.  If he was going to make me drink that, I was going to make things hard for him.  At least until he stopped being so confusing and just explain things to me. 

"Drink this,"

Crap.  "What is it?"

"Just drink,"

"No,"

"Yes,"

"Why?"

"Because it will help,"

Uhhh... How?"

Charlie shoved the glass against my lips.  The liquid was warm, and then I welcomed it graciously. 

Author's Note

Hey, tell me anything, wrong or right with this chapter!