'Gimme More' (Charles and Ruby Version)

[Alternate Text: A header image of a mirror that might be found on a moped or electric bicycle because it's relatively small and circular. It has text printed on its glass that says: 'Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear'. The background behind the mirror is blurred and out of focus, but it seems to be a forest. The title is 'Gimme More' in a black font that's blurred.]

This C Alternate Perspective comes from Chapter 1 of TFS: Book Two; it's what happens prior to the MC re-encountering them inside of Turn the Page.

Within this writing, the MC is romancing R, either their solo route or the JR route.

Note: Before anyone freaks out about a C/R marriage pact, that could partially be C's assumption, but there's more going on. So, please don't freak out, lol! This is C's POV; it's going to strike a few nerves and hopefully intrigue you. I'm excited for you all to learn more! :D

Also, you will be encountering C again in Chapter 4! Yay? Not yay? It’s a fact at this point.

_ _ _

This workout buddy thing is no longer cute…

It's hellish.

(It was technically his idea ages ago.)

While Charles is no stranger to getting in his required amount of reps or taking a minimum number of steps, this is different. Who wants to get up this early to run around? Apparently, Ruby does. (He had thought she normally got up before dawn, so it could be worse.) Still, a small part of him chalks it up to one of those implicit tests the bloodlines, especially the cold Verners, are known for. It's a trial to gauge compatibility or endurance for a prospective partner, friend, or acquaintance.

How much can an individual take?

Tremulous whispers of their dispassionate nature circulate among the upper echelon of Fernweh. Sometimes even the word 'cruel' has been tossed around here and there from his own grandparents, claiming that disposition is simply them. Their heir wouldn't be spared from it, so why would a potential contact be? Never knowing where you truly stand with a member of the family has most people dangling on meat hooks with them or treading across ice of an unknown thickness. It's tense.

It's meant to be tense.

The Verners have cultivated this reputation…

Powerful with the ability to shut out others in an instant, cleaving them away without a word of warning, yet everyone else follows suit. It's why their line hasn't lost any prominence, one of the superior ones that's still entrenched into Fernweh. The Schades can claim the same. It's not like his family snatched up the hospital for the charitable aspect. It's a necessity of life, a way to ingrain themselves from decades ago.

They're on relatively equal-footing.

So, why does this feel like a punishment!

He has nothing to prove to her… Does he?

Ruby's jogging stride remains unbroken, hardly challenged, as they switch from the wide paths of the community park into something more developed. Like him, she has in earbuds to make this somewhat bearable. Charles isn't listening to any music, entertaining himself in a different way by watching Ruby's figure—her tight ass hugged by black jogging pants, those strong legs, and then there's the stupid shirt. It ruins his view—his deserved reward—with panels of white that don't make sense in this heat. It's long-sleeved! Who wears that now?

There's only one benefit to trailing behind her.

He also watches her running form with less interest. Sometimes she'll do sprint bursts that almost makes it seem like she's running away from something, although that could be his own boredom adding more reasoning to her workout rigor. They are timed, possibly to a particular song, where Ruby just bolts in a way that probably isn't healthy, but damn does it work for her in the long-run based on what's being hidden away from view. Charles sighs in disappointment.

She normally exercises alone.

It's an important fact that helps with the sweat trickling down his back, the heat wafting from the pavers, and the future soreness. He has made an effort to learn some of her habits; it hasn't been easy. However, the privacy of a solo workout where one's breathless and less put-together must be why Ruby prefers it.

Why did she stop running the lakeside and more remote, secluded trails?

That thought goes as quickly as it comes when he spots Ruby slowing down for a break, adjusting her pace with care to avoid coming to a hard stop. It's better for one's heart rate. He's able to catch up, re-joining her after a few, long minutes. Ruby's gaze remains on a particular street sign that's ahead while she modulates her breathing because apparently Verners don't breathe like everyone else. He would quickly roll his eyes if it wasn't impressive how she's composed, slightly flushed and tastefully sweaty. They also glisten rather than drip.

For a moment, Charles admires her side profile—what he likes about it and what he'd freely change. "What're you listening to?"

"'Gimme More'," Ruby replies. "And you?"

"Nothing that ancient," he teases her. "Your taste in pop music tends to be trashy, Rubes."

"Better it be my music than my attire."

Her pale blue eyes barely rest on him after that well-timed retort, failing to deliver a once over as if she's seen enough. It'd sting if Charles didn't know how Ruby can be. There's a hint of a smirk playing at her lips to sap some of the bite; it was a parry to his words, not a barb. "You know you love it," he counters her, stepping closer to draw focus to the lack of fabric clinging to his muscular figure, chest bared for all to admire and envy. They should; he works hard. "It's all me."

"I would love the water you misplaced…"

He thought leaving it behind would end things early! Sadly, it didn't.

"I'm sure you can ask '[Surname]'"—that gets Ruby's head to subtly turn in his direction, a show of interest—"for some. That's where we're going, right? You made a little route for us?"

"It's a quick stop, yes," she casually answers. "We can then lap the town square, say 'hello' to old snake eyes, and be on our separate ways."

"You shouldn't call it that," Charles warns her, still smiling faintly at her playfulness, though it soon turns into a smug grin. "I was right."

"This once. Would you care for a mini-race?"

No, he wants a snack and a shower, but when Ruby poses that as a challenge like how he thinks she might have once spoken to you, he wants that more. Superlatively speaking, he'd want Ruby in his shower and then a different kind of sna—

"Do you need to sit? I can run the block again while you take a moment?"

"I wouldn't worry about me," he waves off her comment, unsure if there's concern or simply pragmatism underlying it. "Let's go on three."

"…1"

"…2"

And then Charles starts running before counting off the official start, laughing at Ruby's scoff before she starts giving chase. (At least it feels like that for a while.) He hasn't expended nearly as much energy as her, which is coming into play now to really push himself—to keep up with her for a time. It's all planned.

Ruby shoots him a look, raising a perfect eyebrow at him that he promptly flips off.

It isn't that shocking.

She must find that amusing because she glances back at the sidewalk to curb her reaction, good.

What's not-so-good is the distance between them slowly widening when Ruby pulls ahead with something more than competitive fire. It isn't her competitiveness; no, he's witnessed that before in certain meetings and even at a few charity auctions, especially the ones for shelter animals. This isn't a second wind; she leaves him in the dust, stride lengthening out as she pushes off the pavement to reach a specific destination. His eyes leave her to scan the shops ahead, spotting the tacky, rooster weathervane.

It's still a fair distance away.

Is she creating that distance? For you?

It's like that display at the Memorium—the overt lack of respect in seeking you out rather than staying within the bloodline fold. No one said anything during the aftermath by the obelisk, not to a Verner. Still, it's an odd development, a concerning one for their plans—their real future.

Even her mother should know better…

Charles exhales harshly, chuckling some under his breath, which hampers his running form.

He'll meet her inside of Turn the Page.

. . .

. .

.

"Second!"

What better way to make an entrance than by barging right inside?

Charles's view of the store could be coloring how he treats its door as a flimsy finish line set up for his arrival to dismantle. His arms maintain their victory 'V' formation, knuckles bouncing off the glass as he rushes into your space. Well, it's yours now, right..? Who knows if your grandfather left you anything, aside from the clear potential for mental instability.

"No one calls that out, Char," Ruby remarks, drifting in front of where you stand. "It's sad."

Charles was still trying to locate you within this 'quaint' setting when Ruby's move—her buffering attempt—hastens that along. Did he interrupt your private conversation? His lips nearly quirk. "Finishing has its own merit."

"As does respecting the structure of an establishment, particularly one with air conditioning that you are allowing to escape."

She's calling out his etiquette by applying it to this level of venue? A coffee shop-bookstore hybrid…? Still, it does get under Charles's skin, earning an exaggerated eye roll alongside his compliance with her request. He barely quells the need to slam the door shut, putting that energy—that force—into how he haphazardly spins back around to focus on you. You're still behind Ruby, but he fixes you with a grin that falters when Ruby returns his look instead.

Hers is far cooler, an implicit warning, that he's too well-trained to ignore. How interesting. His grin hasn't entirely fallen away, still maintained enough to suggest being at ease and without a single care. "All happy now?" Charles asks.

"With you, it's always the bare minimum."

There's a beat of silence between the two heirs that's full of unsaid communication before they both laugh. It's the perfect way to break that tension, perfectly controlled and tittering. How many conversations have been defused by this simple tactic? He started it; Ruby acquiesced to let his behavior slide with a single warning.

They both aren't really laughing.

But he'll be having the last laugh on you.