Bat #4
“Okay, you’re not.”
Charlie’s face crumpled, and he whispered, “It’s not fair.”
“I know,” I breathed, stroking my thumb across his jaw, his soft stubble, longer now than that first day up here in this attic. “I know, Charlie.”
“Listen…” He swallowed hard. “I’ve been thinking. And I’m going to come back and see you, after I leave.”
A laugh escaped me—bitter, disbelieving. “Charlie—”
“No, listen.” His hands framed my face, forcing eye contact. Blue eyes blazed with fierce determination. “I’m being serious. Deadly serious.”
The intensity in his gaze stunned me into silence. Fucking hell. He meant it. Every word carved itself across his features with desperate conviction.
“I’ve been thinking about it constantly. And now I’ve decided. I’m going to get a job here, once it’s a resort. They’ll need staff on reception, behind the bar… fuck, I’ll even clean the rooms if that’s what it takes.”
My mouth opened, but no sound emerged. His words hung between us, impossible promises, beautiful and devastating in equal measure.
“I’ll break in if I have to.” Charlie’s thumb stroked across my cheekbone. “You can help me. Or we can just meet in the garden every night. We could—”
“Charlie.” I scraped his name out of my throat. “Stop.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Pain flickered across his features. “But I will. I promise you, Bat. I’m going to come back. This isn’t the end.”
The hope in his voice nearly shattered me. I pressed my forehead against his, breathing him in, memorising the scent of his skin mixed with his sweat and desperation.
Then I pulled back to say, “Charlie… of course I believe you. You’ll come. Then come again. Maybe even again after that.”
His face lit up with pure joy, and it broke something fundamental inside me.
That’s when I knew.
I was never, ever, recovering from this. From Charlie. This taste of life.
“But then, eventually, you’ll stop coming,” I continued, watching as the light drained from his eyes. “Because you’ve met someone else. Someone alive. Someone who can give you what you need, what you deserve.”
“That’s not—”
“So please don’t come back, Charlie.” Each syllable I spoke was a razorblade swallowed. “Don’t come back. Because all those in-between waiting parts will be fucking hell on earth—wondering if you’ll show up, wondering if this is the time you finally don’t.”
Charlie’s face crumpled. “Bat,” he croaked, tears streaming freely now.
I gathered him against my chest, feeling his sobs rack through both our bodies. His tears soaked into my skin, hot and heartbroken and utterly human. I stroked his hair, pressed kisses to the crown of his head, tried to absorb every tremor that ran through him.
“I could just stay,” Charlie whispered against my collarbone. “Get a job in the town. Tomorrow. Then there’s no ‘coming back’ because I’ll never have left.”
The na?ve hope in his voice destroyed me all over again. I tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet my gaze as I pressed the gentlest kiss to his forehead.
“You’re so lovely,” I murmured against his skin. “But I’m dead, Charlie. And you’re very much alive. You need to go out there and live after this. Remember all that stuff you said about wanting kids, and feeling stuck?”
His breath hitched.
“So you’re going to go live. Live for both of us,” I continued, my voice breaking on the words. “Make wonderful, beautiful music. For both of us.”
Charlie stared at me through his tears, and I could see him wrestling with the truth of it—that no matter how much we wanted this, how perfect these short, stolen hours had been, I couldn’t give him a life.
Only borrowed moments in a crumbling manor with a ghost who would never age whilst he grew older, lonelier, more isolated from the living world.
“Promise me something,” I said, catching his hands in mine. “Promise you’ll go back to music. Don’t waste your gift. Keep making your dad proud. Keep making me proud.”
“I promise,” he whispered.
We stayed like that—tangled together, neither willing to be the first to let go. Outside, the wind had died down, leaving only silence and light that very slowly faded.
Forever’s just a word until you find
Someone worth leaving the whole world behind
The lyrics echoed in my mind, and I finally understood what I’d been trying to say all those years ago. Forever wasn’t about time. It was about moments like this—so perfect, so complete, that they existed outside of everything else. Untouchable. Eternal.
Even if we only got this one afternoon.
Charlie’s breathing had evened out against my chest, his tears finally spent. I felt my form beginning to thin, energy depleted, but I held on for one more minute. Just one more.
“Bat?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” He pressed a kiss over my heart—the place where a heartbeat should be. “For this. For… everything.”
I couldn’t speak. Could only hold him tighter as the very last of my energy drained away, and I lost him—lost the heat of his body, the silk of his hair, every tangible piece of him.
Nothing lasts forever.
But god, what we had was worth it.