DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS HEREIN ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. I do not condone any abuse of any kind IRL, and everything herein is just fantasy. Do not attempt to re-enact anything you read here.
The next morning, the rain had finally died down. Carl got up and reached for his bedsheets -- which he had kicked to the floor in a slimy heap the night before -- intending to clean them. They were gone, though. For a few seconds he looked around before his body began to boil with embarrassment. His mum had come in and taken them away, no doubt finding him lying naked, and undoubtedly aware of why the sheets were on the floor.
He tried his best not to meet his mother's eye as he went down for breakfast. Instead he kept his eye on the floor. On top of his embarrassment, the audio he'd been listening to was ringing in his ears still. He couldn't believe how turned on he'd gotten by his m- well, not HIS mother. A mother. A mommy. His... mommy.
His mum didn't seem to care, though. Not that she'd have known. Well, she knew about the sheets. Normally she couldn't resist any chance to infantilize any sexuality her son had ever expressed -- which had no doubt played a role in his early sexual development he had no doubt -- but for once she didn't seem interested. No sly comments, no "your sheets will be clean soon".
He went back to his room after finishing and found, to his surprise, the room was clean. His sheets weren't just clean but had been changed and fitted. When had she had the time for that? He didn't even remember her leaving the kitchen. They smelled different, too. Was Mum trying new washing up stuff? It smelled... familiar. Sweet. Like perfume.
"Oh Carl!" came a cry from his mother downstairs, "There's a girl here to see you!"
Flushing with embarrassment again, he raced down the stairs quicker than he should have, forgetting he was still half-dressed. Meeting Charlotte in shorts and a shirt, she was standing in the doorway as his mother walked past with a wry grin. Shooting her a glare, Carl stood with his legs nearly crossed as he realized how little he was wearing far too late.
"Hi, Charlotte," he said, chewing on the words, "uh... come in, if you want."
Charlotte glared over his shoulder, as if at something he couldn't see. He turned to see what she was staring at and saw an old mirror, with Charlotte reflected in it.
"No. I... I don't want to come in. Here." She added the last part stiffly, as if saying to herself. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for a walk. Outside. Away from here."
Hormones decidedly depleted from the night before, Carl felt far more relaxed this time.
"Sure, uh yeah. Okay. Just let me get dressed and-"
"Meet you at the top of the hill," she said quickly and sped off without another word.
Dumbfounded, he shook his head. The girl had something of a fey personality. He wondered how much of this weird behaviour was a product of her wanting to appear that way, and how much was genuine.
As he got to his room he could have sworn he saw the door, the one with the key, swing shut. Looking down, he noticed the key wasn't there. Maybe Mum had picked it up when she collected his... sheets. Another pang of embarrassment dripped down his spine and somehow wound up in his stomach.
A few minutes later he was climbing the hill, following the path, and wondering why Charlotte had wanted to meet so far away from the house. Maybe she'd wanted to get away from prying ears. A slight smile on his face, he wondered if maybe she had something to say she wouldn't want a boy's mother to hear.
He kicked himself, as they'd only known each other a few days, and spent less than ten minutes in each other's company. He had to get over the idea he had in his head of how girls fell in love within minutes, just because that's what happened in smut that didn't have time to properly develop a relationship. After all, there was something not right about her.
This time, Carl decided to take the high road above the path, and see if he could spot Charlotte the way she'd spied on him. It was much rougher going without a mountain bike, though. The treeline was much more foreboding up close, and the verdant grass gave way to shadow and gnarled trunks and roots much quicker than the mind thought it should as the copses grew thicker.
Those stories his Auntie Elle told, of creatures that lured kids off the path, had always somehow had a ring of truth to them. Even if it was just the way parents a thousand years ago had explained to kids "if you go walking in the forest alone you'll get lost and die and something will probably eat you", there was something that belied all logic or reason locked away in there. Some nugget of ancient wisdom, passed down like a warning.
Coming up on a large rock, he peered around the side and saw Charlotte sitting with her back to him on the edge of the hillside. The afternoon sun was breaking through the clouds in parts, highlighting her against its setting and radiating golden light around her. Once again he was struck by just how effortlessly pretty she was, even at this distance.
She suddenly swung around as if she had heard his thoughts, and he ducked behind the stone. He panicked. He didn't want her to think he was spying on her... wait, he thought, she had spied on him. It was only fair if he did it back.
