Chapter 4: Cute Panda Bear

CUTE PANDA BEAR

"H...hello?"

Charlie finally summons the courage to speak after staring at the man for two solid minutes. Charlie wonders how she hasn't pooped her pants from standing in the same presence with a mountain man.

She mentally kicks herself for not grabbing the baseball bat behind her bedroom door or the bow and arrow underneath her kitchen cabinet... Or the pepper spray on her kitchen window sill.

"Um... What? What are you doing in my ba...backyard?" Stammers Charlie.

The bulky man takes a step forward so that the tip of his leather boots is hitting the lintel of the patio door.

Charlie takes two steps back; one isn't foolproof. She clutches, tightly, the hem of her pyjama shirt. Suddenly, she feels like crying.

Is this it?

Is this how she'll die?

She hasn't even edited her 20th book! Or read all the books in the romance section of the local library!

"I'm sorry! I haven't stolen anything! I don't do drugs! I haven't even seen any type of drugs before... Well, I have, you know, Ibuprofen, Paracetamol, Advil, Lo— Well that's not the point! The point is, I don't deserve to die! I'm so young and growing..." Charlie keeps rambling on in a high-pitched voice.

The mysterious man scrunches up his brows as an amused look crosses his eyes. Charlie would've noticed this if she wasn't staring at his big hands that clutch two duffle bags in a tight grip.

'Oh my God! Ammunition!' Charlie gasps and grips her phone tighter. She presses the home button and her screen comes to life.

'Just one click and the police will be here,'

The man drops one of his bags on her feet and points to the snow-covered patio.

'Does he want me to dive into the snow?'

"Look, I just conditioned my hair! I can't get it wet again!"

Just as she is about to click the dial button, she notices something.

The man is shivering.

His shoulders bobbed up and down and his teeth clattered noisily. He breathes out cold air and his knees shook.

Her finger hovers around the screen. Her face falls as she looks deeper.

The mysterious man cocks his head to the side, his midnight-black hair that had a touch of snowflakes fell to the side slightly.

Her face falls. She can't just leave him out in the cold. Calling the police by this time of the night is pretty futile. Charlie lets out a shaky breath as she weighs the pros and cons.

Pros: I invite him in and offer him a place to sleep and feel good the next day for helping someone.

Cons: The man smothers me in my sleep with my favorite pillow.

As she fights a mental battle between good and rationality, the man picks up the bag he dropped on the ground. His knees bobbed impatiently. His brows scrunch up.

"Uh..." She steps closer, "Would you like to come in? It's snowing pretty fast out there," She raises her brow.

The man opens his mouth like he is about to say something but frowns immediately. A tiny grunt leaves his mouth and Charlie almost coos.

He walks in and Charlie takes an unconscious step backward.

"Come in... I guess," she mutters as they walk into the living room.

"Have a seat, please." Your height is intimidating. Charlie wants to add but thinks against it. She doesn't want to add to the reasons for her death.

"You look cold...uh, let me make you hot chocolate," Charlie announces before she runs to the kitchen.

She's so grateful that Deedah talked her out of putting a wall between the living room and kitchen. This is a perfect excuse to watch the man like a hawk as she makes him a steamy hot cup of chocolate and tiny marshmallows.

God bless you, Deedah!

Just as she is about to place the steaming cup on the center table, she trips on one of his bags. She yelps and steadies the cup carefully.

A melodious rhythm of guffaws and scoffs emits around the room.

It is either the world stopped moving or Charlie forgot to breathe and now she's feeling light-headed. An embarrassed blush appears on her cheeks as the man continues chuckling childishly.

She runs to the kitchen and exhales loudly. 'What the hell happened there?' She grabs her phone from the kitchen counter and walks to the living room.

The living room suddenly feels colder than usual. Maybe it's because of the absence of a heater but Charlie naturally loves the cold. Right now, there's something about standing in the cold with a total stranger. This is the perfect time for her to be killed in cold-blood!

"Um... I... I'll be right back! I have to—uh, that... yeah!" She runs faster than the speed of light.

She pats her chest slowly. The strong urge to call Deedah overcomes her. The black woman will know exactly what to do in this situation.

She puts on an oversized grey wool sweater over her pyjama shirt. Maybe she should call Mario. His height could intimidate the man in her house and make him leave. But who's she kidding? Deedah had blocked Mario's number on her phone and all her social media accounts.

Charlie shakes her head, "Mario isn't worth it."

She sighs and walks to the living room. Now that Charlie looks closely, the man doesn't look anything like an assassin. He looks, more or less, like a panda bear. A panda bear hunched slightly with Charlie's throw blanket over his shoulder and his taut fingers gripping the mug tightly as he takes occasional sips from its content. 

"I don't know if this is wise..." Charlie chuckles nervously, "...but you can sleep here tonight. I don't know if you're lost or anything but... Yeah. You can take the couch, okay?"

The man looks up from his cup of chocolate. His eyes are wide and... Well... Curious. His light eyes—Charlie can't decipher the color under the dark—looks hooded and droopy. He keeps staring at Charlie before she flashes him one of her infamous please-don't-kill-me smiles before running up the stairs.

Her eyes meet the small alarm clock on her nightstand. 2:46am blares.

"Urgh!" Charlie groans.

'This week is definitely not her week.'