His Deepest Secret

When he said those words, Charlotte's heart began to race. Her eyes searched his as they stood close to each other.

As Anderson made deep eye contact with her, he slowly inched his face towards hers. Charlotte's eyelashes fluttered as his face moved towards hers.

Their lips touched.
Gently.
Softly.
Slowly.

They moved together with hesitance, with fear that this maybe wasn't real, that it wasn't really happening.

Was it?

The hesitance left.

It was more real than anything has ever been.

Anderson's soft lips gently pressed upon hers, moving in synchronization.

His hands slowly rose until his fingertips barely touched the soft skin of her cheek. His fingertips were as light as butterflies on her face as the cupped the sides of her face. His eyebrows pressed down as the kiss became a little more passionate. His hands were light on her face, but felt like they were pulling her even closer to him.

Her hands found their way to his, gently placing themselves atop of his. She slowly moved Anderson's hands back with her hands, causing their faces to pull away only slightly. Their eyes opened and locked on each other's as she searched his eyes.

It was like something was uncovered inside of him. She saw more than she ever has through the story of his eyes alone.

His eyes watched hers, noticed the way she searched his.

Gently, she urged his hands back to her face as she pressed her lips against his like they were never meant to be apart.

The kiss felt like tomorrow would never come, like today was the end of the world.

All of a sudden, Anderson pulled away and began coughing. Charlotte's hands froze in the air where he left them for a moment.

"Anderson?"

"I'm. . .sorry," he apologized as he held up one finger as a "Hold on" gesture.

Her heart dropped. She felt afraid. This sudden coughing. . . reminded her. . .

He stopped coughing and redirected his attention to Charlotte.

He saw the expression on her face, the one that was heartbreakingly worried and scared.

"Hey," he whispered softly.

She looked up at him with watery eyes.

He knew.

"I don't think this is fair of me," he said quietly. It seemed that he was talking more to himself.

"No. . ." Charlotte whispered. "But this isn't fair of me either."

He looked down into her eyes again.

Charlotte didn't hesitate to press her lips back to his. He was stunned for a moment, but his lips caught on.

They both slowly pulled away after a minute of their lips connecting.

"Why. . . why did you treat me so badly when the whole time. . . you liked me?" she asked him.

"I didn't want to hurt you. I have cancer, Charlotte. This isn't fair of me at all to be doing this to you. I wanted to drive you away from me as far as possible so that you wouldn't like me."

"Its fair because I'm completely aware of the fact you have cancer. You driving me away didn't work apparently, and I'm happy it didn't."

He looked down and away from her for a moment.

Her fingers gently lifted his chin and directed him to look at her.

"I like you," she said, her voice full of meaning, her eyes full of emotion.

Their eyes were locked.

"I like you, too."

A smile crept onto both of their faces. Charlotte looked shyly up at him as her cheeks became pink.

Slowly, his smile faded as he glanced over at the clock and realized it was time to take his medicine.

"Hey. I have to use the restroom," he told her.

She nodded and sat down on the edge of his bed as he walked into his bathroom.

With as much efficiency and quickness, Anderson turned on the water, took his medications out of the medicine cabinet, opened them, took the prescribed amount of pills out of each one, set them onto the counter, and put the bottles back into their place. He filled up a small cup that sat next to his sink and took each pill with a drink of water. After he was done, he turned off the water and walked out of the bathroom.

His eyes saw Charlotte laying down on his side of the bed, yawning as she clutched his pillow.

"Hey sleepyhead," he murmured, feeling tired himself.

"Hi," she said, the word coming out lightly, softly, floating throughout the room.

"Did you text your parents so they don't freak out in the morning?" he asked. He always respected his parents and other people's parents, as well.

"Mmhm. Told them Alissa came and picked me up to stay the night." As she spoke, her eyelashes fluttered, fighting the urge to close her eyes and let sleep take over.

"Oh. . ."

She yawns again, and he chuckles at the small noise she made.

Anderson walked to the far side of the room to turn off the lights and walked back to the bed.

"Charlotte," he whispered.

Her eyes peeked up at him. "Yes?" she whispered back.

"Can you scoot over some?" He smiled at her as she lazily rolled over and struggled to get underneath the blankets.

"Stupid. . . freaking. . ." she said.

He slid underneath the covers and helped her out, laughing quietly at her stubborness.

She laid her head against the pillow as Anderson rested his on his own. The two stared into each other's eyes through the darkness.

The features of their faces were visible to one another because of how close they were.

"So where does this leave us?" Charlotte asked, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

Anderson thought for a moment. "Charlotte. . ."

He wasn't sure what to say. His reasonable side told him he couldn't do this to her. He knew he would most likely die from the cancer in his body. He wouldn't dare to get his hopes up. But his selfish side told him to make her his. He never experienced love. Before he dies, he should experience love, right? There was no way in hell he will survive, he knows it. The doctors give their patients a bunch of bullshit. He wasn't dumb.

The whole time that Anderson was battling each side in his mind, Charlotte studied his face.

"Anderson. . . I want to be with you." The words that came out of her mouth interrupted the complex thoughts being mixed around in Anderson's tired mind.

"You do realize-"

"Shh. . . I already know what you're going to say," she told him.

Anderson's facial expression became complex: unsure, sad, happy, nervous, and excited all in one.

He looked into those bright blue eyes of hers. "I want to be with you, too."

She smiled at him in the dark. Seeing how her face lit up brought a smile to his face. . . and something else. It felt like his heart suddenly became lighter, less dense, less stressed. It was an odd sensation, and surprised him.

"Charlotte. . . Will you be mine?" he whispered gently to her.

"Yes," she whispered back.

Anderson smiled. The butterflies in his stomach were flipping out.Despite this happiness, something in the back of his mind warned him that this will only lead to someone being hurt. Although the words weren't directly thought, he knew what the feeling meant, but he would not believe it. He simply ignored it.

Charlotte's eyes closed and her breathing became slower and lighter. Sleep had finally won.

He smiled and let his eyes shut, too. Sleep overcame him only moments later.

The two fell asleep face to face, their legs bent, their knees touching, and everything else a little distance away, not touching.

Both fell asleep happy. Both had a faint trace of a smile as their dreams filled their minds and changed throughout the night.

---

Sunshine tried to force its way into Anderson's room, but the blinds shut it out, allowing Anderson and Charlotte to sleep peacefully. The room was still dark, but it had small slips of sunlight coursing into it that made everything in the room slightly visible, but it was still dark, nonetheless.

Anderson's eyes slowly opened; his mind slowly turned on. Repeatedly, he blinked, not yet ready to wake up.

Coincidentally, Charlotte slowly began to wake up, as well. Yet, her eyes refused to open.

Anderson grumbled, finally having to keep his eyes open. When they came into focus, he discovered that Charlotte's forehead rested against his, that his arms surrounded her small body frame, pulling her close to him, that their legs were wrapped around each other's legs, becoming unable to be untangled.

At the sound of his grumble, Charlotte opened her eyes only a little. Her eyes met his straight away, discovering that he was quietly watching her wake up. Her eyes opened fully and took in his beauty, his shaggy, ruffled blonde hair, his deep, dark blue eyes, his lips that had the curve of a smirk on them.

Anderson smiled as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in a short kiss. His arms tightened its hold of her, bringing her closer to him in a way that their bodies were parallel and fitting against each other perfectly.

The silence was comfortable. Neither wanted to break it. Yet, Charlotte couldn't help it after three minutes and began giggling.

"What is so funny?" Anderson asked, his face amused.

"I need fooooood," she told him.

He laughed at her sillyness, but didn't move.

"A few more minutes and I'll make us some breakfast, yeah?"

"Okay." She gave him a stubborn smile as she agreed.

His hair was tousled all over the place.

"You look cute with bed hair," she said through her giggling.

"So that's what you were laughing at." He gasped like he took offense to what she said.

"Was. . . Did last night really happen?" Her face turned serious.

"Yes," he assured her.

"So it wasn't a dream?"

He shook his head no.

"And we are together now?"

He nodded.

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Feed me!" she demanded. In perfect timing, her stomach grumbled.

Anderson chuckled and untangled himself from her so he could sit up. When he did, a wave of nausea hit him furiously. He rushed to the bathroom, falling off the bed in the process. Anderson slammed the door open and threw his body at the toilet bowl just in time when the vomit began struggling to come out of his throat.

Charlotte rushed out of the bed and followed him. As she ran into the bathroom, she stopped. It was a horrible thing to see someone throwing up the contents his body contained from earlier meals. Despite being afraid and hating the smell and look of throw up, she knelt down and held his shaking body with one arm as she grabbed clean toilet paper.

Once he stopped throwing up, he began retching and heaving. She wiped the throw up off of his face and threw the toilet paper into the toilet. She got up quick and searched his room for a water bottle.

Luckily, there was one on the night stand. She returned within moments and lifted the open water bottle to his lips, encouraging him to drink.

He stopped drinking and began retching once more. Afterwards, his body threw up everything it had in it. There was nothing more. Anderson sat back against the wall and held his stomach with his hand.

"Anderson?" she whispered. She felt afraid, worried, and upset.

He coughed, causing him to clutch his stomach once more because of the pain it already felt.

"I'm fine. It's a side effect of chemotherapy," he explained to her.

She got some more toilet paper and wiped his mouth and chin clean.

Slowly, he stood up and walked to the sink.

Charlotte flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall, looking down at her feet as she nervously bit her nails.

Anderson brushed his teeth and washed his face as she leaned against the wall. When he was done, he turned around.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that," he apologized.

She lifted her face up to look into his eyes. "No, it's not your fault. So don't apologize."

Anderson leaned against the counter and looked her straight into the eyes. "Why do you like me? Why do you want to date me? I'm fucking slowly dying."

These words shocked Charlotte. It hit her right in the chest.

"Shut up Anderson. You don't know that. Chemotherapy could get rid of your cancer. You don't just fucking automatically think you're going to die. That's basically giving up. I like you because I've felt drawn to you for so long. Deep down, I felt it, but I thought I hated you. I want to date you because. . . there is just something about you. I don't know what, but I can't keep myself from desiring to get to know you more, to be closer to you, to be your girlfriend." His words were insulting almost. Or maybe it just simply hurt a little to hear those words come out of his mouth. His words were upsetting.

"I'm sorry," Anderson said. He walked towards her and cupped the side of her face. "Look, I'm sorry."

She looked up as he said those words a second time. In response, she pulled him in for a hug.

"Just have hope, Anderson," she whispered.

"Hopefully this doesn't become a mistake," he whispered back. "I've never felt so good in my entire life. I don't want to hurt you."

Charlotte looked up at him. "You won't."

Two simple words. Seven letters that gave him assurance.

"Okay." He rested his head on top of hers as he hugged her. "Want to go lay down?" he asked. "I feel tired again. My stomach hurts."

She let go of him, but grabbed his hand of hers and walked ahead of him towards the bed. She climbed under the covers to her side as he climbed into his side.

"Come here cutie," he murmured, offering his chest for her to rest her head and his arm to wrap around her waist.

She moved close to him and closed her eyes.

Anderson played with her long, dark brown hair, comforting her as they laid in silence. She fell back asleep, but Anderson stayed awake. His fingers combed the side of her head, relaxing her.

Finally, Anderson fell asleep.

Unfortunately, moments later, the silence was interrupted.

The sound of a ringtone rang through the room. Charlotte's head lifted up and realized it was hers. Her hand moved under the pillow, feeling for it. When she grabbed it, she answered it immediately.

Anderson watched her sleepily as she put it on speaker.

"Charlotte Smith?" the person calling asked.

"Yes?"

"There has been an accident. . ."