Dabs Pod

A gentle tap against your window tears you away from the book in your hands. You'd been so absorbed in what you were reading you hadn't noticed the clock turning 3am, but the dark sky outside your window and the silent street below it all work together to tell you that you should've been asleep hours ago. You rise off your bed and tread towards your window, the cold floorboards sending a chill up your spine. You push open the window and your friend Peter climbs through, slumping onto the floor with a small grunt.

You're used to him arriving like this in the dead of night by now. Sometimes he needs a rest before he travels back home, others he just needs company and a reassuring smile. Tonight feels different though. He's barely spoken since you let him in and his breathing is ragged, making his chest heave. You switch on your bedside lamp and gently lower yourself to the floor to sit next to him.

The light illuminates his face, and the gravity of the situation hits you immediately.

Blood trickles from his hairline down the side of his face, leaving a trail that drips all the way into the neck of his suit. His lip is cut, and both cheeks are littered with bruises.

Your eyes take their way down his body, checking for further injuries. One of his web shooters is smashed, and there's a slash on his ribs that you almost don't spot, because the entire area is covered with blood, blending it in with the red of his suit.

"Peter, what happened?" You ask, voice trembling with worry.

He goes to reply, but attempts to move as he does, which replaces any words he was about to say with a whimper, his eyes screwing up in pain.

"Okay okay, just-just hold on one second I'll be right back" you say, scrambling to your feet.

You dart to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit. You try to keep the thing well stocked in case of Peters visits, but you're not sure anything in there is going to be appropriate for the level of injuries he's shown up with this time.

You race back, almost slipping on the wooden floor, and immediately start to try and tend to the wound on his side.

Peter watches you, wincing in pain as you wipe away layers of blood, but it just keeps pouring.

"I think you need to go to the hospital Peter" you bite your lip.

He shakes his head.

You look at him sternly, but he's closed his eyes, now oblivious to your disapproval. You try again to wipe away the blood, but you make no progress, so you sit next to him and place as much pressure as you can muster on it instead. The blood soaks through to the cloth and onto your hand almost immediately, coating your fingers. You try not to panic, taking deep breaths as Peter pants next to you, but your brain is spiralling.

These injuries are really bad. Spider healing or not, he's lost way too much blood. His face is practically grey, and amongst the dirt, blood and bruises you can see the sweat dotting his forehead. He seems pretty adamant about not going to the hospital, so all you can do is your best to try and tend to him and keep him alive.

You take his hand in yours and place it on top of the cloth on his side. "Press down here for me so I can have a look at your head"

He does as you ask, but with his brain not fully focused he puts too much force behind his press, making himself yelp in pain. You brush your hand through his hair reassuringly, trying to soothe him from the unimaginable amount of pain he must be in, before you try and find the source of the blood trickling down his face.

The cut on his head isn't as bad as you're expecting. You clean it with antiseptic, which stings and makes his eyes water, and then wipe away the remaining blood on his face.

When you pull away from him, you notice his eyes are staring to droop.

"Pete? You still with me?" You ask urgently.

"Y-yeah I'm good, just...so tired" he responds, voice no more than a whisper.

You take over from him putting pressure on his side. To your relief, the bleeding seems to have slowed significantly. You can finally breathe for the first time since he showed up, safe in the knowledge that he's not imminently about to bleed out on your bedroom floor.

The feeling of his head dropping onto your shoulder snaps you back to attention.

"Come on, you need to sleep" you say, taking his hand and helping him to stand up, guiding him toward your bed.

You cover him up with several blankets and do your best to get him comfortable, and then head towards your door to go and set yourself up on the sofa.

"I'll be right next door, if you need anything at all come and get me, or shout if you can't get up, okay?"

No answer.

"Peter? Did you he-"

"Would you stay with me?" His voice croaks out quietly from the bundle of blankets.

"...of course I can" you answer, walking back and shuffling onto the bed next to him.

His head moves to rest on your chest almost immediately. You stroke his hair, humming gently. Peter has always loved it when you hummed or sang around him, he found it relaxing, so you're hoping it will soothe him a little and help him sleep.

You sit like this for about 2 hours, just listening to Pete's slow breathing as you stroke his hair, letting his body heal him as he sleeps. You'd love to stay awake all night to keep watch over him and make sure his condition doesn't deteriorate further, but the warmth of his body is unwilling lulling you to sleep. Your eyes droop, and despite your best efforts to keep them open, you end up fast asleep, nestled on top of your sheets with Peters head still resting on your chest.

-

You don't wake up until midday. When you do, you find your arms surprisingly empty. Panic rises in your chest, fearing Peter has collapsed somewhere, but when your head turns the side to search for him, you see your window propped open and a small bunch of flowers sat on your bedside table.

On top of them is a note that reads "For Y/N, the best nurse a guy could ask for, love PP/SM".

You smile as you take the flowers into your hand, leaving the note on the table. They're pastel tulips with a few sprigs of baby's breath surrounding them. Your favourite. Peters ability to move around silently is both a blessing and a curse, you think, because it lets you wake up to sweet things like this, but part of you also wishes he'd of stayed till you woke up.

As you go to fill a vase with some water, your mind buzzes over the last line of the note. You tell Peter you love him all the time, purely platonically, but he rarely says it back, and something about this feels different. You swipe open your phone and send him a message.

Message to Peter 🕸️: They're beautiful Pete, thank you, love you too!

He messages back almost instantly, as if he'd been holding his phone waiting for you.

Message from Peter 🕸️: No, thank you! And I really mean it

You scroll idly through your phone,  your thumb swiping with no clear intention. Your mind is somewhere else entirely. It's been two hours since Charlie disappeared, and you've heard nothing from him since. At first you'd pushed it to the back of your mind, figuring he probably just needed a little time to clear his head, but as the rain started to hammer down outside and the clock broke into the early hours of the morning, you'd started to grow a bit concerned.

What if you'd pushed it too far? What if you'd made him feel so uncomfortable and insecure he never wants to have sex with anyone? He's your friend, and you hate to think you could've done this to him. You also really don't want to end up a flatmate down when rent payment time rolls around, a concern that was only growing bigger with every passing second. Your mind spirals, preventing you from sleep. Ideally you'd like to stay awake until he comes home anyway, but god knows when that will be.

The situation replays in your head over and over again as your eyes bore into the ceiling. His nervous confession, his trust in you, his trembling hands that didn't seem to know where to touch, all of them overshadowed by the look in his eyes as he realised what was happening. Oh god the noises he made. You don't know whether to cry or get yourself off.

-

You must have drifted off at some point, because you stir around 3am to the sound of a key slotting into the lock, and the door slowly creaking open. You hear some shuffling around, and you wait with bated breath. A small clatter and a quiet "fuck!" emanating from the hallway a few seconds later confirms that it's him. The relief that he's home safe washes over you like a tidal wave.

You're expecting him to head straight to his room, hopefully to get some rest so you can both talk about it with level heads in the morning. He does no such thing.

His feet stumble down the hall in dark, clumsily shuffling across the carpet and over piles of junk you've all brought and have no where to keep. Two small shadows appear under the gap in your door, which is followed by the slow opening of your bedroom door.

The sight before you is like something you'd see in a steamy chick flick. Charlie stands in the doorway, soaked head to toe from the rain. His shirt clings to him, highlighting abs you didn't know he had, and his wet hair is a couple of shades darker, looking even messier than usual and occasionally dripping small drops of water down onto his face.

"Charlie! I'm so glad you're back, can we-"

You're cut off by him storming toward your bed, peeling his shirt off his torso as he closes the gap between you. Before you get chance to utter one more word, his lips are attached to yours, cutting off anything you had any hope of telling him.

The kiss is more forceful than before, not aggressive as such, just full of desire as he moves himself on top of you, lowering you onto your back. His tongue tangles with yours, making tingles run up your spine and your head go fuzzy. Strong hands ride up your side to sit on your waist, surprisingly warm despite the cold air outside. He's placed his knee unintentionally between your thighs, which you find yourself grinding against subconsciously, desperate for some kind of stimulation.

Then, without warning, he breaks away.

You look at him with that same wide eyed expression he'd shown you earlier, completely caught off guard by the whole interaction.

"I just...couldn't let that be your lasting memory of me" he mutters under his breath, before rising up off your bed and walking back out your bedroom door.

What the fuck?

You sit in shock, trying to get to grips with everything that just happened in the last five minutes. Any worries that you had before have now been replaced by pure confusion. What the hell was that? Where did all the confidence suddenly come from? And where the hell has he been for the last 4 hours?

You want answers.

You stumble up, head still swirling slightly from your prior interaction, and make your way out of your bedroom, nimbly tiptoeing down the hall. You don't wish to give him any indication of your approach, lest he pretend to be asleep, or worse, flee again. Thankfully, you're significantly more graceful than he is, and manage to make it to his bedroom without making any noise.

You stand pensively outside the door. Should you knock? Or just stride straight in like he did? Both options feel wrong.

You opt for somewhat of a middle ground, gently pushing the door open as quietly as you can and treading forward gently. He doesn't notice your presence until you're stood right at the edge of his bed.

He's turned away from you, lying down facing the wall with his headphones covering his ears. The shoddy quality lets you hear what sounds like some sort of break up playlist streaming into his ears. He really is a drama queen.

You sit down next to him on the bed, causing him to turn around startled. You slide his headphones off his head and turn around to place them on the bedside table, then return to face him, locking eyes.

"Are you okay Charlie?" You ask, real worry coating your words.

"Mhm" he hums with a smile that would be convincing if you didn't know him better.

"Clearly" you reply flatly, eyes narrowing.

He doesn't respond, avoiding your gaze as best he can.

All the worries that you've seriously fucked him up in some way come flooding back, overwhelming you and making your words catch in your throat.

"I'm sorry if I pressured you or made you feel uncomfortable Char, I was too much, I feel awful" you whimper, voice fading into a whisper on the last few words and a few tears starting to well up in your eyes, threatening to break out if you say anything else.

Charlie head darts back up at this, taking in your facial expression with concern. If there's one thing he hates more than anything in this world, it's seeing his friends cry, especially you.

"Oh shit! Hey! No it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong I swear!" His eyes soften like someone looking at a wounded animal.

You try to compose yourself as best you can, wiping away the tears in your eyes before they get a chance to spill. The last thing you want is to manipulate him into saying everything is fine when it's not, just because he doesn't want to see you upset. 

You pull at the sleeves of your hoodie, as though covering yourself will protect you from how you're feeling. It's only now that you realise the one you're wearing is actually his, which for some reason makes you feel even worse.

Charlie takes a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Y/N, that was genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me"

Now it's your turn to avoid eye contact, the guilt you're feeling not allowing you to look anywhere but down at your lap.

"Don't lie to me Charlie, it just makes me feel worse" you mumble.

"I'm not lying!" He exclaims, seeming almost offended by your accusation. "Okay the last part might actually be one of the worst things that's ever happened to me, but getting to kiss you and touch you, thinking I was actually going to lose my virginity to a girl like you, it was incredible...before I-well yeah" he blushes at that last part, cringing at the memory.

You giggle slightly at his compliments, looking back up at him.

"Well hey, anytime! You look good like this just saying" you wink, trying to lighten the mood.

Charlie goes to speak a few times, but keeps cutting himself off before any sound comes out. You watch him struggle over his words, your eyes piercing into him.

"What Charlie? What is it?" You ask tenderly.

"Would er...would you-would you teach me?" He stutters out quietly, cheeks burning.

"Teach you?" You tilt your head.

"Yeah like…like before kind of but…you know" he trails off, making awkward gestures with his arms.

"O-ohhhh, teach you" you eye him with a wry smile. "I can do that".

You lean towards him, pressing a lustful kiss against his lips. It's short, much too short, but you need more information from him before you do anything else.

"Well what do you already know?" You question.

Charlie's cheeks flush once again, his nerves making his voice wobble.

"Er, I dunno, I've watched stuff but like, I know that's not real so"

"What about with like, girls though? You’ve kissed a girl before, obviously…have you ever been given head?" You ask nonchalantly.

"Huh? Er n-no I haven't" he answers, sounding mortified at the suggestion.

You gesture for him to come closer, letting you climb back on his lap just like earlier, and you reconnect your lips like it's the most natural thing in the world.

His hardness seems to grow underneath you almost immediately. You push down against him, grinding gently. His hands ghost over your sides, as though he's afraid to actually touch you. You have no idea what got into him earlier that made him so confident, but you're determined to try and bring it back.

You take his hands in yours and place them on your sides underneath your hoodie. His fingertips dig into you as the kiss deepens, becoming more frantic.

You stay like this for a while, aiming to go a little slower than last time for fear of overwhelming him. Desire gets the better of you eventually though, and you climb off his lap to pull down his pyjama trousers.

With no boxers underneath to restrict him, presumably abandoned when he changed out of his wet clothes, his cock springs up as you fling his bottoms across the room.

You lower your face and wrap your hand around his hard length, looking up at him.

"You've gotta be quiet though okay?" You tell him.

"I thought the others were out?" He asks, confused.

"Yeah we still have neighbours though Char, and not that I don't love hearing you, but it is 3am"

He nods seriously, but as soon as your hand starts to stroke up and down your instructions go out the window, a low moan escaping his lips.

You shake your head, smiling as you look up at his scrunched up face, then return to the task in front of you.

You part your lips and wrap them around the head of his dick, gently sucking as you pump your hand up and down. He jolts at their first contact with him, but then relaxes into the sensation, letting you slowly take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around the tip as you bob your head rhythmically, using your hand to keep you steady. Muffled moans and whimpers call out above you, drawing your attention to the sight of Charlie, his hair now plastered to his face and his arm draped over the top of it, attempting to cover his sounds. How you wish you lived out in the middle of nowhere so you could let him cry out for you at full volume.

While he's clearly enjoying himself, you get a sense that he's still holding something back, not fully relaxed into the moment. It's understandable, given it's all new for him, but you want to try and help him as best you can. You bring your free hand up, searching for his hand against the soft bedsheets. You find it, and bring it down towards you, letting it tangle up in your hair.

He writhes underneath you as you continue using your mouth on him. The grip on your hair tightens, and you feel his hips start to buck up a little into your mouth, clearly relaxing into the sensation. You try to keep your breathing steady to stop yourself from gagging, and do your best to let him thrust up into you, fucking your mouth.

He's completely lost in pleasure, so much so you're actually concerned he's forgotten you're there. His hips roll, pushing himself as deep into your throat as he can and moans tumbling out of his mouth. You've given up on trying to keep him quiet, and instead just let him use your mouth to make himself feel good.

Suddenly though, he stops, trembling slightly from resisting the desire to go back to rutting up into you.

"I-I don't wanna cum yet" he whimpers, arm still covering his face, half concealing his flustered expression.

You nod, rising back up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Okay, we can stop for a little, you feeling okay?”

He nods and takes a second to get his breath back, then turns to face you.

"Can I...can I do that to you?" He asks innocently.

You smile reassuringly.

"Have you done it before?"

He shakes his head in response, but shuffles down the bed to lay between your legs anyway. He pulls your underwear down tentatively, looking at you with awe. There's an embarrassingly large wet spot in the middle of them that you're hoping he doesn't notice. Fortunately, it seems to have escaped his attention.

"I don't-what do I do?" He stutters, heart racing.

"Just do what you think would feel good, I'll tell you when you're doing it right"

He gently pushes your thighs open, gliding his finger down your soaked core. You feel him slowly push it inside you, tentatively fucking you with his finger. He adds another, then presses his face against you.

A few licks land just short of your clit, leaving you desperate for some attention.

"Could you use your tongue just a little higher up for me Char?" You ask sweetly as you brush your hand through his hair, not wanting to knock his confidence.

He moves up immediately, attentively placing long slow licks exactly where you needed him. You let out a breathy moan at the contact, which seems to boost his confidence, his pace quickening. His fingers pump inside you, perfectly matching the movements of his tongue. It feels incredible.

"You're doing so good Charlie" you whimper, losing yourself to the sensation.

He moans against your skin, clearly a fan of a little praise. His rhythm is steady and even, building you to your high rapidly.

"F-fuck Charlie, you're gonna make me cum" you moan, legs starting to tremble.

He whines, not letting his movement slow as he gazes up at you adoringly. You grab onto his hair, pulling it slightly as you reach your release. You moan loud enough to outdo Charlie's, much to your neighbours irritation you're sure, and your hips rock against his tongue as you ride out the ends of your high.

He removes his fingers and laps at your drenched core a few more times before coming back up to lay next to you, face flushed.

"Did I do okay?" He asks anxiously.

"You were amazing Char, you did so good" you sigh contentedly, pulling him into a kiss.

You'd intended for the kiss to be short and sweet, but he doesn't seem to have any plans of letting you pull away. His tongue runs against yours, the kiss getting sloppier and more heated, and his hands sit on your waist without prompting this time. He presses his whole body against yours, cock ragingly hard against your stomach.

You manage to pull away from him enough to look into his eyes, your fingers running through his still damp hair.

"Ready Charlie?" You ask, studying his face for any signs he might want to back out.

"God yes!" He nods eagerly, moving to hold himself over the top of you. 

"It seems kind of unfair that you're fully naked and I'm still wearing clothes, hold on" you smirk, sitting up and grabbing the hem of your hoodie.

"No" he stops your hand abruptly. "I wanna fuck you while you're wearing my clothes" he murmurs, eyes full of lust.

Your eyes widen, caught off guard by his bluntness, but you accept his demand and lower yourself back down, spreading your legs to give him better access. He lines himself up at your entrance, looking at you for reassurance before pushing himself inside of you.

"Oh FUCK!" He groans, head dropping into your shoulder.

He slides himself inside you further before slowly pulling back out almost completely. He's agonisingly slow, practically torturous, but you try to be patient and give him time to adjust and figure out what he's doing.

His pace quickens just a little, beginning to form an actual rhythm. The more he speeds up, the more frantic he gets, the natural instinct to rut taking over his body. He thrusts harder, knocking the air out of your lungs. His fingers dig into your shoulders so hard you're certain you'll have bruises tomorrow but you're past caring, losing yourself in the sensation of him filling you up.

His strokes get rougher, pounding you into the mattress. All the need and desperation that's built up since he was just a horny teenage boy lusting after girls in school is taking over his body, blocking his brain of any thoughts other than pumping you full of his cum.

A loud bang sounds above you, his hand slamming into the headboard. His moans are almost animalistic, sending shivers of arousal through you. Your nails dig into his back, matching his intensity with needy whimpers of your own.

His pace starts to falter, signalling he's close. You’re surprised he’s lasted as long as he has in all honesty. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper.

"Cum for me Charlie"

That's all it takes for him to come undone, curse words and pornographic moans spilling from his lips as he pumps ropes of hot cum inside you. The warmth fills you instantly, sending a shudder of arousal through your whole body.

He pants rapidly, pulling himself out of you and rolling over to lie by your side.

"Holy shit" he gasps, eyes squeezed shut "that's what I've been missing out on?"

You laugh gently, moving to lay your head on his chest.

"I should've let you corrupt me ages ago" he chuckles, wrapping his arm around you, holding you close.

Charlie's eager face peers at you as you open your eyes blearily. You sit up groggily, letting him come fully into focus. He's practically jumping with excitement, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"Merry Christmas beautiful!" He chimes at you.

"Merry Christmas darli-would you please stop bouncing Charlie or I'm going to fall out the bed".

Charlie laughs as he stills himself, but it doesn't last long. Barely a minute passes before he's stood up with his hand around your wrist trying to drag you out of bed.

"Okay okay I'm getting up" you laugh, letting Charlie lead you downstairs.

You can’t help but smile at his childish antics, he’s quite literally like a kid at Christmas, you’re half concerned he’s expecting Santa to have visited.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop in your tracks.

"Oh hold on, wait here! I just need to grab something"

You dash back upstairs, leaving Charlie to carry on into your living room alone. You open your wardrobe and snatch out the box that you'd been hiding.

You hold it in your hands, trembling. What if he doesn't like it? You shake the thoughts from your head. You'd spent many painstaking hours making sure they were absolutely perfect, watching hundreds of YouTube videos for guidance and even going into your local hobby store at one point for advice. Whether he thought they were lame or not, there's no doubt he'd appreciate how much effort you'd put into them, it's Charlie after all.

You rush back down the stairs, sliding on the wooden floors as you reach the bottom. You smack your back into the wall, causing a loud thud to reverberate through the flat. Charlie's head appears round the door almost instantly, a concerned look on his face, but when he sees you laughing, it melts away.

"I thought ballerinas were supposed to be graceful?" He chuckles.

"Only when I'm on stage unfortunately, rest of the time I’m almost as bad as you" you laugh, winking at him.

You join Charlie in the living room, getting comfortable on the sofa. You take a deep breath, and then hand him the box.

"What's this?"

"Open it and see" you smile, attempting to cover your nerves.

Charlie carefully peels away the layers of green tissue paper adorning the outside (specifically chosen to try and match his channel logo), and takes the lid of the top of the box.

His eyes widen immediately.

Inside the box is two small figures, the size he uses for his DND campaigns. They're painted intricately to resemble the both of you. His is kitted out in his Renn Faire outfit, with a fern green cape and golden headpiece. It holds a staff covered in tiny leaves and flowers, with small amounts of sparkly glitter covering it all the way up.

Yours is based on your costume from this years Nutcracker. A pink bodice covers your figures torso, lined with elaborate swirls and patterns of gold lace. Small white flowers cover the skirt, which are paired with matching petals adorning the gold tiara sitting in your hair. It has a bow slung over its back, painted with a metallic gold to match the other details, and a holder for the arrows that you painted to look like brown leather.

"Y/N...these are amazing" Charlie chokes out. You look up at him and notice his eyes are slightly teary.

"You really like them?" You ask nervously, fingers playing with the hem of your sleeve.

"They're incredible! Did you paint them yourself?"

You nod shyly in response. Charlie takes each one out of the box and turns them carefully in his hands, admiring all the little details you’d added to make them look just like the pair of you. His fingers brush over the skirt of your figure gently, with the same care he shows to the real life you.

He returns them gently into the packaging and places the box to one side, before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hair tickles the side of your neck as he holds you, enveloping you in a feeling of safe security.

You pull away, and Charlie immediately gets up and scurries over to the tree. Underneath it sits one small present, being gently illuminated by the twinkling lights on the branches above it. He must’ve snook it under there last night after you fell asleep.

He carries it over to you and places it in your hands. The wrapping is terrible, in an endearing sort of way. There's several random sticking out pieces of paper, and at least an entire rolls worth of sellotape covering the outside, but it's so quintessentially Charlie it actually makes you love it even more.

You remove the paper (with great difficulty) and find a slim white case inside. You crack it open to find a dainty gold necklace resting in the inner lining. A fragile chain holds a small navy blue bead, and a little gold disc with a capital "C" embossed into it.

"Oh Charlie! It's beautiful!" You whisper, gazing down at the delicate jewellery in your hands.

"Just like you" he responds gently, leaning forward to place a kiss atop your head.

You hand Charlie the necklace and then turn your back to him, lifting your hair up away from your neck. He wraps the chain around you and fiddles with the small clasp for a second before letting go and planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

"I feel like I recognise the bead"

"I wondered if you would, it is yours after all..." Charlie hesitates. "It fell off your outfit the first time we met..." he continues shiftily.

"And you kept it all this time?"

"Of course I did"

You lean forward, planting a firm kiss against Charlie's lips. He melts into it, chasing the comforting sensation of your skin against his.

"I love it Charlie...thank you" you say sincerely, your chest filled with warmth.

Charlie's phone buzzes against the sofa, tearing you away from the moment.

He smiles down at the screen as he picks it up. "It's my mom".

He answers, and your heart starts to pound out of your chest. The idea of meeting Charlie's parents was stressful enough, but doing it over the phone on Christmas Day, when you'd basically stolen their son from them...beyond terrifying.

"Hi Mom" Charlie says cheerfully into the phone. "Merry Christmas".

"Merry Christmas sweetheart, are you having a good time?" A warm voice coated in a thick American accent emanates from the speaker.

"The best! How's the family?"

"We're all good here, just missing you! Did Y/N like her present?"

Charlie's face goes bright pink.

"Er-yeah mom she er-she did" Charlie stutters out. "She's here actually, say hi!"

Oh fuck. Well there go all your plans of dashing out to the kitchen sharpish to avoid getting dragged into conversation.

"Hi Y/N honey! Are you having a nice time? I hope he's looking after you." Charlie's mom chimes.

"O-oh er hi Mrs. Dalgleish, yeah we're having fun...thank you" you answer awkwardly, your own cheeks now flushing a matching shade of scarlet.

"How's your friend Will? Charlie said he'd been doing better? Are you going to see each other over Christmas?"

How often does Charlie talk about you that she knows that? More to the point, what else does she know? The idea of Charlie gushing to his family about you does make your heart swoon a little bit, but also fills you with a wave of sadness. You've kept him a secret from pretty much everyone, not intentionally, you just don’t really have any family to share it with. Maybe you should call your mom and tell her about him?

You decide it's probably not conducive to polite conversation to get into the recent problems with you and your friends, so you elect to just mumble some vague comment about Christmas being a busy time with family. Charlie and his mom chatter away for a little while longer, talking about funny things his brother has done, and his uncle stepping on several pieces of Lego. It's nice to see Charlie get to be involved with it all, even though he's missing it.

"I'll have to go and start making breakfast now sweetheart, but have a wonderful time, come and see me when you get back! Y/N I can't wait to meet you soon too! Love you both!"

"Love you mom! Bye!" Charlie smiles, putting down the phone.

There's a moment of silence between you.

"So you talk about me then huh?" You smile cheekily, nudging him in his side.

"Oh hush! I love you, sue me" he replies, rolling his eyes.

You feel the words catching in your throat again, but this time, you force them out.

"Do you need a hand with that?" You ask as Charlie comes walking round the corner carrying a large box with an image of a Christmas tree plastered on the side.

"Nah, I got it!"

His gait is thrown off by the box but he slowly closes the gap between the two of you. He plants a kiss on your forehead, arms straining from the weight in his arms as he does.

"They only had a couple left, this one was the biggest!" He says, positively giddy with excitement. "We don't really do plastic trees back home, it's kinda cool!"

"They all look the same to me honestly" you shrug. "I grabbed some decorations, they actually had quite a lot left surprisingly"

You dangle a few baubles off your fingers, displaying them to Charlie. He nods in satisfaction, guiding you toward the checkouts. You scan the items through, Charlie slamming his card on the machine before you even have chance to pull yours out to pay.

"You've gotta stop doing that! They're decorations for my home, you don't have to cover it" you laugh in exasperation.

Charlie shakes his head vehemently. "You're too pretty to pay for stuff". He pauses, looking at you "Or carry stuff, give me the bag!".

Charlie swipes the bag of decorations from your hands, balancing the handles on his index finger as he wrestles with the tree box in his arms. You walk back in the direction of your home, Charlie struggling to balance all the items he's holding.

"Oh my god would you please just let me help you, your fingers are going purple" you exclaim.

"Absolutely not!" Charlie responds with a cartoonish frown. "If I had enough arms I'd be carrying you too".

You roll your eyes, smiling. The boy is utterly ridiculous, but it is very endearing.

A few gentle flakes start to drift down from the sky as you reach your flat. One lands perfectly on the tip of Charlie's nose, maintaining its picture perfect shape for just a moment before melting into his skin. You click the door open and usher Charlie in, kicking off your shoes. He stumbles past you, smacking the tree box off the living room doorframe, before dumping the box and bags on the floor.

"What happened to all that gracefulness I taught you hm?" You ask with a wry smile.

"You weigh a lot less than that fucking tree" Charlie laughs back, swiping the sweat away from his forehead.

You leave to go and make you both a hot drink. When you come back, Charlie has put a Christmas movie on your TV, and is precariously holding the tree above its metal stand.

You wait until he's slotted it in before talking. The last thing you need is a Christmas tree smashing through your front window if you make him jump. Once the tree is fully erected, Charlie turns to face you, grinning from ear to ear.

"It looks amazing already doesn't it?"

"Mmm yeah, so what's next?" You say, handing him his coffee.

"Lights!" Charlie exclaims with an eerie grin, yanking several tangled cables out of the bag.

"How the bloody hell have they ended up like that?" You laugh. "They were only in the bag for like 15 minutes"

Charlie just shrugs "Elves".

"Naturally".

You watch as Charlie carefully threads the layers of lights around the tree, illuminating it evenly. He fiddles with them, ensuring every spot is covered, then grabs the bag that now contains solely baubles.

"I think since it's your tree, you should do the honours" Charlie smiles at you, holding out the bag.

You smile back weakly and reach your hand into the bag. You pull out a plastic shark wearing a Santa hat and crack up immediately.

"...what the fuck is that?" Charlie cackles, flicking the shark with his fingers.

"I forgot about this one" you stutter out through laughter. "What shall we name him?"

Charlie's face morphs into one of great intensity as he firmly proclaims "Slinky".

You nod knowingly and hang the plastic shape on a branch. "Slinky it is."

More and more decorations make their way onto the tree as you and Charlie decorate. His spirit is infectious. Between throwing tinsel at you, hanging baubles from his ears and at one point even doing a handstand to become a makeshift tree himself, you laugh more than you have in a long time. You get so wrapped up in it in fact, that the film has completely finished by the time you draw your attention away.

"Okay, now we just need a star or something. I don't suppose you fancy sitting up there all day do you?" He grins goofily at you.

"Might be a bit sharp" you chuckle. "They didn't have any in the shop, maybe we could make one?" You suggest.

Charlie ponders your suggestion, deliberating over his options. As you watch him bite his lip, something suddenly springs foreword in your mind.

"Hold on, I have an idea!" You say, running up the stairs. You enter your room and lay yourself down on your stomach in front of your bed. You look under, shifting around several boxes before you spot the one you're after. You pull it out and carry it downstairs.

When you walk back in, Charlie immediately starts laughing. You don't understand why until he walks over to you and starts pulling bits of dust out of your hair.

"Where did you go to get the box, a vacuum cleaner?" He laughs.

"Not quite, should probably consider using one from time to time though" you chuckle.

You pull the box open and are immediately hit with memories of all your childhood Christmases. Sitting at the top of the box are Christmas cards you'd made for your parents at school. Crudely drawn illustrations of presents and snowmen cover the front, along with way too much glitter. Charlie smiles warmly, taking one into his hands gently.

"Did you make these?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah when I was a kid!" You answer, smiling as you flick through the pile of coloured card.

"I bet you were so cute as a kid" he smiles softly.

"Still am" you wink, taking the card out of his hands. You rifle through the box a bit more before you spot it.

"Ahah!" You exclaim, producing a shiny glass star from the bottom of the pile. Gold flecks of glitter twinkle within the fragile glass, drawing you in to its beauty.

"Perfect" Charlie smiles.

You walk over to the tree together, standing on your tip toes in an attempt to reach the top of the tree. You're not even close.

"Here" Charlie breathes behind you.

You feel two hands wrap around your waist as you're lifted into the air. It reminds you of the first night you spent alone together practicing lifts, how hard he'd worked, how much you trusted him even then. Who'd have thought after that night you'd have ended up like this.

You stare at your phone, blinking rapidly.

New post from @/royalballetwest:

Big changes are happening at our beloved company! We are pleased to announce that @/iamsam98 and @Y/N will be gracing the stage as Oberon and Titania in our spellbinding new production of "The Dream"

Tickets are now available, book soon to avoid disappointment!

You swipe across the carousel of pictures. There are pictures of you and Sam on stage from other performances, as well as a couple studio shots. There are also some pictures of the corps and soloists, but their numbers are far fewer than before.

Message from Sammy 🩰 (1) : Have you seen the cast list? Where is everyone else? What the hell is going on???

You swipe away his message and open up your company's website. You scroll through the cast list, skimming rapidly, searching for names you're terrified you're not going to see.

You reach the end.

You scroll back, slowly this time, scouring over each name with your eyes, but the letters don't move, and the fate of some of your colleagues remains unchanged. The size of the corps has almost halved, and several soloists appear to have been axed too. Most notably though, Wills name is one of the ones that is missing.

Charlie, who has been peering over your shoulder the whole time, is beaming at you proudly, seemingly unaware of the chaos happening behind the scenes.

"Is that what all those rehearsals have been for? Are you the lead?"

"...yeah" you reply quietly.

"Of course you are! That's my girl!"

Charlie squeezes you tightly, grinning from ear to ear. He takes your face into his hands and kisses you, before pulling away to look at you with adoration. His eyes search yours for a sign of excitement, but his face falls when that search turns up empty.

"What's wrong?" He asks, with sincerity in his voice.

His caring tone and the panic of your friends uncertain fates makes your eyes well up with tears.

"Th-there's something wrong, loads...loads of people are missing" you sputter out. "...Will's missing.". That last part comes out as an inaudible whimper, your voice catching in your throat.

Charlie's hand rubs the top of your arm, comforting you with its warmth, "missing how?"

"Like as though they're not in the company, like they're not in the pictures or cast list or anything" you say, panic swelling.

"Will? And Avery?" He asks with concern.

"Avery's there..." you trail off.

"And Will-oh..." he cuts himself off as he takes in your worried expression. "Why don't you call him?"

Hands trembling, you dial Wills number. After a few rings, he picks up.

"Hey trouble! What's up?" His voice chimes through the phone.

"Will have you seen the cast list that's come out? What's going on? Where is everyone?" You fret.

There's a long silence on the other end of the line.

"Yeah I saw" Will answers casually.

Now it's your turn to sit in silence. Wills cavalier response has created more questions than it's answered.

"What do you mean you saw? Where is the rest of the company, what's going on?" Your voice rises in pitch as you spiral, eyes darting around as you try and piece together the situation. Did Christian lie to you? Was all the secrecy around the next show really because of this? Was this why he was fighting with Anthony? Oh god...Anthony, what if he's gone too? You pull the main page of the companies website back up and desperately comb through it for his name. To your relief, it's still there, but so many more of your questions still remain unanswered.

Suddenly, it hits you.

"...y-you knew...didn't you?" you whisper, voice coated in betrayal.

There's a long pause.

"Yeah...I knew." Will hesitates.

Lava courses through your veins as your ears start to ring.

"You knew and you didn't tell me? How could you...how could you Will?". Tears start to trickle down your cheeks. You stew in your anger, Wills betrayal aching inside you like a dagger to your heart.

"How long have you known?" Your voice breaks.

There's another long pause. And then:

"About a month"

You rip your phone away from your ear, ending the call, and slam it down to your side. Every time you try to speak, no sound comes out, so you sit, dazed and heartbroken, feeling utterly alone.

Charlie's arm snakes around your shoulders, and he pulls you into his chest. The closeness forces tears to cascade down your cheeks once again, snivelling into his t-shirt. He rubs your back and rocks you gently, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. Whispers of reassurance leave his lips, but they do little to quell your pain. How could Will do this to you? How could Christian do this to everyone? Who else knew and kept it from you?

You sit frozen in place for some time, until eventually Charlie scoops you up and carries you upstairs. He lays in bed with you, holding you tightly as though he's afraid you'll bolt if he lets go. The tears have stopped now, but without them to release your emotions you feel empty.

You must have eventually fell asleep, because you awake in the morning to a cold empty bed, with yesterday's mascara trails still coating your cheeks. For a moment you're terrified that Charlie has left without saying goodbye, but his smiling face appears in the doorway just a few moments later.

"I made you a tea, I can't lie I think I really fucked it up though" he chuckles earnestly.

"I'm sure it's great!" You smile, taking the cup from his hands.

There's a long silence.

"So...how are you feeling?" Charlie probes gently.

"Better than I did yesterday" you smile weakly.

Charlie slides into the bed next to you and pets your hair.

"Will came over last night." Charlie remarks awkwardly. He lingers hesitantly on the last word, waiting to be chewed out.

"...oh"

"I didn't really say anything to him. I just told him you were sleeping and he said he didn't want to wake you so he left...I hope that's okay. I felt kind of weird answering your door but he wouldn't stop ringing the doorbell"

Charlie shifts awkwardly in the bed. You can't imagine how uncomfortable that must've been for him. You smile sympathetically.

"Thank you, I don't think I would've had it in me to talk to him to be honest" you respond gratefully.

You take a sip of your tea and gag slightly. Calling it tea is generous, it's more tepid watery milk. Despite your best efforts to cover it, Charlie notices you wince from the taste.

"Guess I won't be adding tea maker to my resume then" he laughs.

You put your mug down on the side and grin at him.

"Yeah maybe not, but I'll get you trained up! You'll be a tea making extraordinaire in no time" you declare. "Out of interest, did you actually put a tea bag in it?" You chuckle.

"Yeah of course I did!" He laughs. "I know I'm not always the brightest but I'm not that stupid!"

You ponder the ghoulish colour of the drink for a moment.

"...and how long did you leave it in for?"

"Oh I took it straight out once I put the water in" he nods knowingly.

You blink rapidly, trying to stifle a laugh. "Well that explains a lot"

Charlie smiles, amused by his own ineptitude. He takes it on the chin, seemingly just happy to have made you laugh.

You lean against his shoulder, welcoming the warmth he always seems to radiate.

"I've just thought...you're going home tonight aren't you, that's come around so fast! I can't believe you were willing to get a Christmas eve flight just to come and see me" you gaze up at him lovingly.

"Aha yeah...about that..." Charlie smiles awkwardly at you.

"What?"

"There's something else you missed last night" he answers quietly.

You look at him nervously.

"What is it Charlie? You're stressing me out" you laugh anxiously.

He smiles at you, then whips off the bed covers. The cold air wraps itself around your bare legs like icy vines. You look up at Charlie with a disgruntled expression.

"Hey what the-?" You gasp.

He cuts you off- "Why don't you go and look out the window".

You stumble up, the frozen floorboards stiffening your joints as your toes hit them. You pad your way across the room and look out of the window. A thick white blanket coats the floor outside. Layer upon layer of pristine snow is covering every road, fence and car as far as you can see.

"Oh...oh shit" you mumble.

"So my flight got cancelled" he laughs lightheartedly. You expected him to be more bummed out by the situation. The poor boy was stranded miles away from home, with a girl who keeps crying on him, doesn't like Christmas and rejected him when he told her he loved her. Quite frankly if it was the other way around, you'd be trying to swim home.

You look across at him sympathetically. "God Charlie I'm sorry, I know you like spending the holidays with your family."

"Eh it's okay. I mean, my mom wasn't super happy about it when I called her last night, but I don't mind, it just means I get more time with you...although I think I'm gonna run out of clean boxers pretty soon" he laughs, stretching as he slides out of bed.

"You mean you don't pack like fifty pairs of underwear for a weekend trip? Must just be a me thing" you shrug, smiling.

Charlie shakes his head at you, chuckling. It's a selfish thought, but you are kind of glad his flight got cancelled. A long sleep paired with his constant chirpy attitude has caused most of the stress from last night to fizzle out of your body. It's left you with a slightly empty feeling in your chest, but that's nothing that a cigarette, one or five drinks and a little sex won't fix.

You watch as Charlie smoothes out his hair in the mirror. He really is very pretty. You're determined to make sure he has a fun Christmas with you, even if you're not particularly in the mood. He deserves it, and you suspect he's not quite as pleased about missing his flight as he'd have you believe. You gaze at him for a little longer, him flashing you a cheeky smile when he notices you staring, then walk over to him.

You wrap your arms around his torso, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"How do you fancy a little Christmas shopping? Get you some pants? Most places should be open till like four I think" you smile at him, trying to look upbeat.

"I have pants darling, but yes that sounds good!" He laughs.

"But-oh! No, like underwear" you laugh. "Plus I have Christmas dinner for two to make" you poke your tongue at him.

"Ohhhh yeah no I do need underwear! What do you usually do for Christmas food wise?" He asks.

You hesitate for a moment, anticipating his disappointment "erm like...toast usually" you laugh awkwardly.

"Your Christmas depresses me" Charlie responds, shaking his head. "Come on, let's get dressed!"

You shuffle to the side so he can stand up, before trudging to your wardrobe. You grab your clothes, your piles of clean washing dwindling. As you do, you notice a small box sitting at the back of the bottom shelf. You slam the doors shut, causing Charlie to spin around, attention caught by the loud clatter.

"...you good?" He asks, half laughing, half concerned.

"Y-yeah, yeah no I'm good...sorry, I saw a spider" you smile unconvincingly.

"Want me to get it?"

"NO! N-no it's fine...feels rude to move him when it's this cold." You answer awkwardly.

Charlie stares at you with his nose scrunched up, searching your face for a sign of deceit. You smile at him again awkwardly, which seems to satisfy his curiosity, and he turns around to continue getting dressed.

You'd completely forgotten the gift you'd brought for him. You'd planned to slip it into his bag when he left, hoping he'd find it when he got home and be a nice surprise, but the weather has put paid to that plan.

"Do you think anywhere would still be selling Christmas trees?" You ask.

"Erm who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" He laughs heartily.

"Girlfriend eh?" You wink teasingly. "I'm just thinking my flat is a little-"

"Depressing?" He cuts in.

"Yeah"

"I'm sure somewhere will, do you have decorations?" He responds gently.

"Er-no...but Tesco had some yesterday, I'm sure other places will too!" You chime. You'd never admit it, but the idea of decorating a tree with Charlie actually sounds quite fun. It's been a long time since you'd indulged in anything festive, but foggy memories of decorating your childhood home with your mom spring forth from the depths of your brain.

Pictures of happy childhood Christmases flood your mind. You can feel your dads hands around your waist, lifting you to place the star atop the tree. Sounds of a fire crackle in the background, warming you more than that the hot tea in your hands.

The images flicker over in front of you, but the more you try to focus in on them, the more you realise they're not actually yours.

Every thought is an amalgamation of films and TV shows that a younger you had clashed together desperately, as she sat daydreaming to the soundtrack of her parents raised voices. There was no fire in your old house, only ancient metal radiators that hissed revealingly if you tried to secretly turn up the dial to warm your cold feet. And your dad had never lifted you so caringly, in fact you're not sure he was ever even there on Christmas Day.

Charlie's voice rips you from your daydream.

"You ready to go?"

You pull your focus back to your current life and take in Charlie's cheerful face. Somehow you've ended up getting dressed, although you don't remember doing it. You take a deep breath and smile at him.

A cold chill runs over you as you sit gazing out of the window. Small flakes of snow gently waft down from the sky, and your eyes follow them carefully. Gentle snores fill the otherwise silent room. You draw your attention away from your bedroom window and look across at Charlie. His brown hair is sticking up in all directions, making him look slightly like a hedgehog. Shadows sit below his eyes, a combination of jet lag and his eyelashes shading them from the small amount of light filtering through the room. He looks so peaceful.

You turn back to watch the snowfall again, your body relaxing for the first time in weeks. Physically, you're exhausted, but your mind just won't let you rest. You'd tried to go to sleep, but after about an hour of tossing and turning, you gave up and you've been sat by the window ever since. The sky is beautifully clear, intensifying the moons glow.

Your worries about you and Charlie had melted away almost immediately upon seeing him, and any that remained were squashed out pretty quickly on your return home. It was like you'd never been apart. None the less, your mind was whirring at light speed, ruminating over everything that had happened the last few weeks.

You were determined to make the most of his time here before he left again for Christmas, so to distract yourself, you sit making a mental list of everything you could do together.

1. Get drinks at the pub you guys first went to together

2. Go ice skating

3. Some kind of outdoor activity (maybe a hike? There's National Trust trails everywhere, probably one you could use)

4. Take him to catch up with Avery and Will

5. Check out the city Christmas lights

6. Play video games together

The list continues to grow as you come up with more and more ideas. It's awfully hefty given he's only here for a couple of days, but you want to embrace every second. It'll keep you both busy, but dare you say it, it actually looks decently festive, which is sure to appease him. Honestly though, all you really care about is spending time with him, regardless of location.

He stirs in his sleep, the sound of the duvet shuffling pulling your attention. His arm stretches out to your side of the bed, seemingly searching for you. Then he blearily opens his eyes.

"Wha-r ynn doon?" He mumbles.

You look at him quizzically, tilting your head. He coughs a little then tries again.

"What're you doing?"

His voice is still heavy with sleep, but the sentence is comprehensible now.

"I couldn't sleep" you respond gently.

He draws the duvet back and holds his arms open. You tread towards him, the cold floor chilling your feet. The bed is warm and soft as you climb in next to him and he envelops you in his arms, pushing his face into your hair and kissing your head clumsily. He holds you close to him, thumb rubbing the top of your arm, and his grip doesn't loosen even when he falls back asleep. The repetitive rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body eventually lulls you off to sleep too, as the snowfall increases outside.

-

You wake up and glance across to Charlie. A small line of drool is connecting his face to the pillow, and soft snores rumble from him like they did in the night. You stay wrapped up in his arms for a few minutes, then head downstairs to make you both a drink. You brew yourself a tea and him a coffee, and it's only when you arrive back upstairs that you notice the weather outside. The slow flakes that had drifted down last night must've intensified as you slept, as the ground is now covered in a thick blanket of snow.

Charlie sits up sleepily as you walk over to the bed, and you hand him his coffee. He smiles gently, rubbing your hand briefly as the mug transfers between you.

"Did you manage to get any sleep?" He asks sweetly.

"I did" you smile. "How about you, did you sleep well?"

"Mhmm, your bed is so comfy" he smiles warmly, shuffling further down under the covers.

You sit together quietly, sipping your drinks. There's no conversation between you, but it's not awkward, just peaceful silence, and comfort in each others company.

You turn to face Charlie suddenly, brow furrowed.

"Charlie...where's all your stuff?"

"Huh? Oh, it's at the hotel" he answers insouciantly.

"The hotel?" You question.

"Yeah"

You look at him expectantly, but he doesn't seem to intend on elaborating.

"Why do you have a hotel room?" You press.

"Well..." he pauses, placing his coffee on the bedside table.

Charlie scratches the back of his head, seemingly thinking over his response to you.

"I didn't want to just...assume I could stay here so"

His tone is nonchalant, but his face has a tinge of anxiety and the tops of his ears are going pink.

You stare at him blankly.

"You're an idiot" you laugh, face cracking as you shake your head, "thoughtful, and very polite...but an idiot"

He chuckles nervously, glancing at you for reassurance.

"Maybe we could go and get it today then? I could stay here then, if you want me to I mean" he suggests.

"Yeah sure we-" your mind thinks back to the conditions outside. "Actually, that might be more difficult than anticipated, the UK kind of completely stops the second there's the slightest bit of snow"

"Oh wow, is there loads? I didn't even know it'd been snowing? Could we not get a bus or something?" He asks.

"Yeah it started last night, I think you jinxed it! There probably won't be any buses running to be honest, and taxis will likely be out too...we could walk though?"

He nods.

"Sure! There's something really important we gotta do first though" he says, his face morphing into a grave expression.

"Oh?"

His face cracks into a smile, and he rolls over on top of you, swiftly taking your cup out of your hand and placing it on the side as he does. His lips brush your neck, and then place gentle kisses along your jaw.

"Ohhh" you smirk.

When you first met him, you could've never imagined quite how obsessed with sex he'd be. It seemed to be on his mind whenever you two were together. He was never pushy or expectant, just desperate to be touching you all the time. If you didn't know any better you'd think he'd never fucked a girl before.

His hand slides up your thigh, making your breath hitch. For someone so awkward he was surprisingly smooth when it came to sleeping together. He kisses along your collarbones and down towards your stomach, but you stop him just before he gets to the place you want him the most.

He looks up at you confused, waiting on your next move. You decide it's about time you made him squirm a little. He had way too much fun riling you up last night, now you're going to get him back.

You roll him away from you so he's lay on his back where he'd been sleeping, and attach your lips to his neck. You nibble gently, making him inhale sharply, and slowly work your way down his chest and abs. God he looks good.

You slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as you kiss his hard length through the fabric. He trembles slightly, his breath shaky. A wet spot grows on the front of his shorts as you continue to tease him. You pull his boxers down, his cock springing out forcefully. It takes everything in you not to give up on the whole endeavour and start riding him then and there. He looks so good you're practically drooling, but you manage to show some restraint and focus your attention on your original plan. You lick from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip slowly, looking up at him. You do this a few times over, watching for his reaction, then wrap your lips around the tip and start to suck gently, flicking your tongue against the sensitive spot underneath.

His head falls back onto the pillow, and a soft low moan escapes his lips. You continue to suck, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. His hands wrap into your hair as his dick hits the back of your throat. You feel his fingertips dig deeper into your scalp as you increase the speed of your movements, bringing your hand up to cup his balls, rubbing them gently.

His breathing gets faster and you can feel him shuffling underneath you. He attempts to restrict his movements, desperately trying to stop himself from thrusting up into your mouth. Still though, you can feel him pushing himself deeper into your throat, making your eyes water.

"Fuckkkkk okay-you- you gotta stop" he pants.

"Why?" You ask teasingly, immediately returning your mouth back to its prior position.

"Becau-ah...you're gonna make me cum" he whimpers.

You ignore him, focussing more attention on the head of his cock. Each swirl of your tongue makes him twitch, and he squirms underneath you.

"Ah-fuck...please" his moans growing more desperate.

"Please what baby?" You stroke him with your hand as you speak, but then go straight back to sucking.

"I-ouh-please let me fuck you" he pleads, eyes screwing up in pleasure.

You remove your mouth from him and quickly move to straddle his lap.

"You're cute when you beg" you wink at him, quickly pushing down onto his cock, taking the entire length in one go.

The sudden feeling of fullness makes you gasp, a small moan escaping you. Charlie's fingers dig into your thighs as you start to slide yourself up and down on his cock. His face is red, and small beads of sweat are dripping down his forehead. The poor boy looks so pathetic and vulnerable in the best possible way. There's a constant stream of gasps, whimpers and moans from his mouth now, and you can feel him trying to thrust up into you, desperate for even more. Every inch of him sends shivers through you as he moves in and out of your body.

Suddenly, his hands grab your hips, and he starts thrusting up into you hard and fast. He's aggressive, slamming himself into you and drawing all the way back out over and over again. The rough thrusts take your breath away. He frees one hand and uses it to grab your wrists, holding them behind you. You let him use your holes to pleasure himself, stroking his cock like you're a walking fleshlight.

"Oh fuckkkk I'm gonna make you my little cumdump" he groans, knuckles turning white as he grips your hips harder.

That comment tips you over the edge. Your muscles spasm as you cum around his cock, soaking him in your own juices and moaning his name. The sounds of your pleasure push him to breaking point too, and you feel his cock twitch as warm cum pumps inside you.

After a few moments he pulls out of you, drawing you into a tight hug. Your head rests on his chest as you catch your breath, his cum dripping down onto your thighs. You lay together quietly, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your mutual highs.

"W-was that okay? What I said and stuff I mean" He asks nervously.

You can't help but giggle at him. How can someone go from calling you a cumdump to sounding like a nervous virgin that quickly?

"More than okay" you reply reassuringly, sighing in contentment.

You cuddle for a few minutes, before heading to the bathroom to clean up. Charlie stares at you intensely as you walk back into the room, his eyes tracing along every curve of your body.

"What're you staring at, perv?" You tease.

"Sorry...you're just...you're so beautiful"

You don't answer, instead slipping back into bed next to him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Right, what's the plan with your stuff darling? Not that I don't *love* seeing you dressed like this but I think the rest of the UK population might not be as keen" you tease, eyeing him up and down.

Even though you spent all night sleeping next to him, looking at him half dressed and hair messy (well, more than usual) still makes your heart race.

"Who's staring now huh?" He smirks at you. "My stuff is at that purple hotel near the theatre, are you sure we can't just stay here though?" He looks at you pleadingly, eyes wide like a puppy.

"I wish! But we really should go and grab it. You don't want to be in a rush to sort it before your flight" you answer, attempting to ignore his adorable expression.

"Ughhhhh fine!" he pouts, flinging his head back in mock anguish.

"Such a drama queen" you chuckle, rolling your eyes.

You have a slow morning together, getting ready but repeatedly returning back to bed to spend more time cuddled up. Eventually though, you're both ready to leave to go and grab Charlie's stuff.

You open the front door and are immediately hit with icy gusts of wind. You pull your coat around you tighter and step out, your feet sinking into the snow. It's not terribly deep, but it chills your toes all the same. Charlie links his fingers with yours, which you're thankful for. The warmth from his hand is the only thing stopping yours from turning purple, the other is buried in your pocket to try and protect it from the harsh conditions.

"Do you mind if we stop to get breakfast or something on the way? I'm starving." Charlie's stomach rumbles as he speaks, as if perfectly timed to emphasise his point.

"Sure, sorry! You should've said, I'd have made you something!" You chirp.

"With what?" Charlie responds flatly.

You're a little taken aback by his tone, he sounds almost annoyed at you.

"Um...I dunno?" You answer, voice barely cutting through the loud wind blowing between you.

"Your fridge was literally empty when I looked this morning."

The irritation in his voice comes through more clearly now. You don't respond, and for the first time the silence between you feels awkward.

You walk together in silence for a minute or two, before Charlie cuts the tension.

"You do eat when I'm not here don't you?"

His voice is softer now, primarily full of concern, but there's still a tinge of anger in there that makes you nervous to answer him.

"Of course I do! I dance for like 8 hours a day I'm pretty sure I'd collapse if I didn't"

You aim for a lighthearted laugh, but your nerves warp your intent, manipulating your voice in a way that makes it sound like you're lying to him. Charlie stops abruptly, staring at you.

"Do you promise?" There's a sincerity in his eyes. This is important to him.

You're filled with guilt. You do try and stay on top of things, and your eating is much better than it used to be, but you also definitely don't make it a priority. The eye contact makes you shuffle awkwardly, its intensity scrutinising you before you even speak.

"I-"

"And please don't lie to me because you think it's what I want to hear...do you promise you're looking after yourself?" Charlie cuts you off.

You take a deep breath in.

"I promise Charlie"

He doesn't respond, his eyes analysing you, but eventually he leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead reassuringly. Your nerves ease a little, and you continue walking toward his hotel.

You stop to get coffee on the way, and Charlie practically force feeds you a pastry whilst you're there. Although he doesn't seem mad at you anymore, you can still feel yourself being watched, and you can hear the cogs turning in his brain as you chew.

The rest of your journey is pretty unremarkable, save for Charlie slipping on some ice and landing on his ass with a hard thump. He puts on a brave face, laughing it off, but it must've really hurt because he walks with a slight hobble afterwards.

On your walk back, Charlie drags you towards one of the big supermarkets on the main road.

"Come on, we're going shopping...this place does do food right?" He looks at you cluelessly.

"It does yes, in fact you're about to be introduced to the incredible experience of -" you do a dramatic drum roll on your legs "- big Tesco!"

"What the fuck is a big Tesco?"

"Just a food shop really" you shrug "...but BIG!" You shout enthusiastically, swiping your arms out with a grin.

Charlie laughs at you, but not in an unkind way, more in a "what is wrong with you, you're so weird" kind of way.

You traipse round aisles of food, picking up bits and pieces. You guide Charlie round, disgruntled by his lack of enthusiasm for the wonder that is big Tesco. He seems happy that you're picking out food though. You drag him to the rows of sweets and chocolate that decorate one of the aisles and point out a few of your favourites.

"Have you ever had British chocolate before? No offence but it shits on Hersheys" you joke, picking up a bar of Dairy Milk.

"Tommy got me to try some last time I was here, it is nice! Would you fancy picking some stuff for me to try? I don't really know what's good, plus you obviously have good taste so" he winks cheesily, gesturing to himself.

"Sure! To be honest Cadbury stuff isn't as good as what it used to be so you kind of missed the boat there, but there's still some ace choices. You're not allergic to anything right?"

"Just pollen" he chuckles.

"Well I'm not planning on shoving any bees into your snacks so I think you're good" you laugh.

Charlie raises a finger and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Ummm actually the pollen comes from the flowers, the bees just carry it to store for food" he explains in a fake nasally voice.

"Thank you, David Attenborough" you answer with an eye roll.

You swipe armfuls of snacks off the shelves and into your basket. The weight of it seems to triple, and you feel like your arm is about to be ripped out of its socket. Thankfully, Charlie notices this and holds his hand out to take it from you. His forearm muscles flex as he does, and you swear your mouth actually waters. As you stare, Charlie's attention is pulled by the sound of hushed voices and giggling from the other end of the aisle. You follow his eyeline and spot two girls who have now started to walk toward you both.

As they approach, Charlie's face breaks into a warm smile and he waves gently with his free hand. Who are these girls? You didn't think Charlie knew anyone in your city, and they look too young to be streamers.

"Omg Slime! We were stood for ages trying to work out if it was you or not...could we get a picture with you?" asks the one girl. Her voice is bright, but it wobbles slightly as she speaks, and her hand trembles as she pulls out her phone. Her friend stands next to her awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Something pings on in Charlie like a light. Suddenly, he is pure charisma and confidence. He lowers the basket to the floor and beckons the girl to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The girl lifts her arm, snapping a picture then turns back to face him. He gives her a warm but polite hug, and then turns to her friend.

"Did you want one too?" He asks with genuine uncertainty, not wanting to assume she knows him too.

The girl nods enthusiastically and walks closer to him, sliding her phone out her pocket. She tries to grab a picture, but her nervous hands make the picture come out blurry. Charlie unwraps his arm from her and makes polite conversation with them both, asking their names and thanking them for watching him. It's like watching a cartoon character. Smooth talking, relaxed, cool - you're almost jealous.

The quieter girl, Molly, keeps glancing at her phone with disappointment as they speak. You feel bad for her. She seems so sweet, but it's as though she's terrified to be a nuisance, so she stands mostly silently whilst her friend talks. She reminds you of yourself when you were here age, although her friend seems much more keen to include her than yours were. The other girl and Charlie both try hard to encourage her into the conversation, but her responses are short and awkward. Eventually, they go to part ways from you. Her disappointed face sticks in your mind as they walk away, and your heart sinks.

"Do you want me to get a picture of both of you?" you call out, slightly louder than intended.

You cringe as other people in the aisle turn to look at you, but the girls walk back over smiling.

"Only if that's okay? I-we don't wanna take up loads of your time" the other girl responds politely.

You grab their phone and take their picture. Charlie stands between them, smiling adorably with an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. They thank you both and walk away, but the quieter one is smiling gently now. You're glad she got a good picture with him, it's sweet to see how much of an impact he has doing what he does.

Charlie waits until they turn the corner, then picks up the basket from the floor and quickly places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you for doing that, I'm so embarrassed" he laughs.

"Not a problem, I just didn't realise I was dating such a huge celebrity" you wink.

He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and laughs awkwardly. "I'm honestly not, that doesn't happen very often! It's always nice to meet people though"

He's so genuinely humble it's heartwarming. You feel bad that you don't ask him about his work more. You were cautious when you first met, not wanting to come off as a secret creepy fan or a gold digger, but now you think of it, maybe it just seems like you don't care.

"I bet your fans are missing you whilst you're here not working" you remark

"Hm? Oh I don't really have a set schedule really so my viewers tend to just come along when they feel like it. I'm sure they'll be fine without me"

You note a tinge of insecurity in his voice, but he moves the conversation on before you have chance to address it. The weather seems to have calmed a little when you leave the shop. It's still bitterly cold, but the wind isn't whipping around you as much as before and the snow on the ground is beginning to turn slushy.

You question him a little more as you walk home, asking about his work, his family and his friends. You remember the first night you hung out he avoided a lot of your questions about his family, but he's more forthcoming now.

"My moms a baker, she'd really like you, although she'd be intent on feeding you until you exploded. You should meet her!"

"Meeting parents already?" You toy with him.

"Well I mean-like at some point maybe, not like...like not right now-well like that would be fine but like we-" Charlie stammers out.

"...I'm messing with you Charlie, she sounds great" you chuckle.

"God you've gotta stop doing that" he laughs in relief.

"I know I know, you just make it too easy" you wink. "I'm not great with parents though, she sounds like she adores you, that's a lot of pressure" you grimace.

"Well I adore you so who cares"

He says it so matter of fact it catches you off guard. He notices, but doesn't try to take it back like you expect. Instead, he just wraps an arm round your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

You spend the rest of your day together in your flat. You play games in your pyjamas mostly, but take breaks to cuddle up and natter to each other. Charlie shows you some pictures of his family and friends. It's amazing how much he's changed in the last few years. He looks more confident now, but he doesn't seem embarrassed by his old nerdy appearance, which is sweet to see.

His hand wanders up your thigh as you talk, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin, and he fills his breaks between speech by kissing your neck. He switched out his glasses for contacts when he returned to your flat with his stuff, so his eyes pierce into you whenever you catch his gaze. Your heart races as you watch his hands dance over your flesh.

After a while, you spin your head to catch his lips with yours, interrupting his attack on your neck. It catches him off guard, but he melts into it all the same, your tongues intertwining and your lips grazing against each other.

Your hand travels up to lace your fingers through his hair. It's soft beneath your palms, tufts of it spiking out of the gaps between your fingers. You dig them into his scalp, scratching gently. The goosebumps that ripple up his arms confirm he's right where he wants to be. His kisses are gentle, and his hands flit over your body barely applying any pressure at all, as though he's scared he'll break you.

Each time you separate, his eyes look more heavy, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks before your lips clash back together again. You dance the fingers of your other hand up his arm, drawing invisible swirling patterns on his skin. You pull apart again and press your foreheads together, taking a moment to catch your breath.

An almost silent whisper fills your ears.

"I love you"

Your throat catches, and your previously racing heart now feels like it's going to burst straight out of your chest.

Charlie's eyes are closed, his face flushed as his breath shakes. You're not entirely sure he's even realised what he just said until his eyes gently flutter open.

He pulls his forehead away from yours, making the eye contact less intrusive but in no way lessening its intensity. The cogs whir in your brain as you attempt to clamber together a response, but Charlie's words have swept all of yours away. He sits quietly, taking in the look on your face with nervous anticipation. You could cut through the silence with a knife. You feel like hours have passed, but after a few moments, Charlie's hushed voice invades your head again.

"You don't have to say it back..." he breathes. "But I meant it"

He moves his face closer to yours again and reconnects your lips. It's less fervent than before, the feeling of being enveloped in the warmth of his body clouding over your desire for sex.

You curse yourself in your head. Why couldn't you have just said it back? You care about him, a lot, but love...it's a big step. You say it to friends with such ease, but to Charlie, it's like the words get caught in your throat, trapped by layer upon layer of nerves, vulnerability and fear.

Regardless, the moment has passed now. You melt into the kiss, trying to clear your mind and let your thoughts just be of him, of how happy he makes you, how he cares for you, how his hands feel against your skin.

Unfortunately, these thoughts are persistently being interrupted by the constant buzzing of your phone. You try to tune it out, focussing on the person in front of you, but it's incessant. Eventually you give in, and pull away from Charlie, sliding your phone out of your pyjama shorts pocket.

"We met in the winter...and we fell in love"

*snare hits*

"Right by the fireplace, we shared our first embrace-"

Anthony's voice cuts through the music "Alexa, shut the fuck up"

Avery's face falls as her speaker stops.

"Good to see you're in the festive spirit Anthony, you miserable git" she says, rolling her eyes.

"Christmas it shit enough as-is thank you Avery, without Gabriella Climi's nasally screech torturing me at 7pm" he responds with a stony expression.

"She's a British icon Anthony, you just have no taste"

Anthony goes to reply but is cut off by Avery restarting her music. Each time he attempts to interrupt, she simply turns up the volume until eventually, he walks away. She locks eyes with you and snorts.

"Oh you're really going to pay for that later" you chuckle at her.

"I know, but it was so worth it! I swear he's been so moody lately, ever since..." she trails off.

You'd never found out what had happened between Anthony and Christian, although that wasn't without trying. Anthony had taken a week off, and so you'd assumed he was right, that he'd been sacked by Guilia, but eventually he returned and it was never spoken of again.

You saunter out of the dressing room, heading toward the stage. You watch from the curtains eagerly. It's absolutely packed. On stage, a frightfully brave soldier skewers a rat...Tchaikovsky was really thinking outside the box with this part. It's a wonderful story with gorgeous music, but god is it weird.

"I reckon he was on crack when he wrote this bit" a male voice whispers behind you.

The voice makes you jump, spinning round to find the source of it. When you do, you're met with Sam's grinning face.

"You're not wrong there, although that could be argued for almost all of it honestly" you laugh under your breath.

You turn back around to continue watching. Sam's face leans over your shoulder, his shoulders stooping to close the height gap between you.

"His sister died whilst he was writing it I think. You can really tell later in the score, like you can hear his grief. To be honest if he was on something I'd get it, I can't imagine how it'd feel to lose one of my sisters"

You look across to him. His grin has been replaced by a look of sympathy. He holds your gaze for a moment before straightening up.

"Come on, let's go and stretch. Before Christian spots us being unproductive and hunts us down" he grins at you again.

You've grown close to Sam in your short time working together. His smile is warm and cheeky, and he has such a good heart. From the way Will had described him, you were expecting him to be quiet, maybe even a little snobby. That couldn't be further from the truth. He'd moved from Bristol to Montélimar when he was 7, and joined the Lyon Opera Ballet when he was 15. He came back to the UK last year and has settled in quickly, although you sense he's missing his family more than he lets on.

That first rehearsal with him solidified you as friends almost immediately. You'd arrived to it completely lost of its purpose. Sam was equally confused. It eventually transpired that you were both taking principles roles in the next production, but that casting was being kept quiet for the time being. You couldn't understand why, but given the tense atmosphere in the studios at the time, you didn't protest.

Sam is a good partner, strong and hard working but not afraid to have fun. It's been killing you to not be able to share the news with anyone, but with the end of your Nutcracker run rapidly approaching you're hoping the new show will be announced shortly so you can finally tell people!

"So Charlie's coming to see you tomorrow night isn't he? Are you nervous?" Sam questions gently.

"A little, I mean I haven't seen him since the first time he was here, but we talk every day so..." you trail off.

"I'm sure it'll be great Y/N! Has he seen Nutcracker before, or is the poor guy about to be in the fog?" Sam chuckles.

"...in the fog?" You look at him, perplexed.

"Oh like, dazed or confused, he's in the fog, lost...I don't think it translates well" he chuckles warmly.

"Oh! No I don't think he has seen it. I think it's more fun that way though!" You grin.

You continue to stretch, before Avery drags you away to gossip. The rest of Act 1 and the interval blitzes by rapidly, and before too long you're in the wings again, but this time preparing to enter the stage. You take a deep breath, smooth out your tutu, and then bourrée en couru to the centre.

Your tutu shimmers, the bright lights hitting it as you turn. Clara joins you in the middle, your trope of flowers standing either side. She's an absolutely beautiful dancer, especially given how young she is. You can feel the joy and excitement radiating off her as you dance together, which makes you miss being her age. You love your job, and the life that's come along with it but you do sometimes miss the days of youthful ignorance, before reality came and hit you with a shovel.

You execute your final set of turns flawlessly, and make your way offstage. Heart pounding, you collapse in a heap on the floor. Sweat pours off you as you trudge back to the dressing rooms. You can't believe tomorrow is the final night.

The next day passes by in a blur. You were hoping Charlie would come and see you before the show, but a delayed flight has meant you had to leave and head to the theatre without him. You're so much more nervous than usual. Knowing Charlie is sat in the seats waiting to see you is making your heart pound.

Message from @slmccl: i'm here! can't wait to see you :) <3

You read his message and sigh, your knee bouncing up and down. You nibble at your thumb for a moment, before quickly typing a response.

Message from @Y/N: Can't wait, see you soon! ☺️

Your eyes pierce into your phone, making them burn. Your mind swirls with thoughts of Charlie. What if he doesn't like the performance? What if things are awkward between you two after not seeing each other in so long? What if the spark you had has fizzled out and it all crumbles?

You're snatched out of your spiral by the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.

"You okay?" a voice asks gently, a tinge of French accent attached.

You turn around to face Sam. Something about the concerned look on his face breaks you, and tears begin to cloud your vision.

"I'm fine" you sniffle.

"You're a terrible liar" he chuckles. "What's wrong mon amie?"

You stare blankly, lip trembling. You feel like you're constantly dragging yourself into situations where you look crazy as of late.

"I just-I'm just nervous...for the performance" you whimper.

"Bad liarrrr" Sam chimes. "You're worried about Charlie aren't you?"

"No..."

Sam raises an eyebrow.

"It's just been a while and...Christmas time is hard you know?"

Sam nods empathetically.

"Holidays are difficult. Long distance, also difficult. Lucky for you though, I don't get the impression Charlie scares easily. I think it'll all be fine, he clearly likes you if he's travelled all this way" Sam replies, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly.

"You're right, I know you are. He's just so level headed...and I'm..."

"A crazy person...yes I know, as does he, but he's picked you anyway so stop snivelling, get warmed up and go and put on the performance of a lifetime for him. You never know, it might get you laid" Sam quips, winking at you.

"Don't tease" you laugh gently, wiping tears off your cheeks.

"Come on, you haven't eaten yet either no? Let's go raid Mariyka's snack bag, I know she has enough to feed twenty of us in there" he smirks.

You follow Sam out of your dressing room and down the corridor. Sitting with the others helps to distract you, and you feel a bit more perky by the time you're in the wings. When you step out on stage, the music takes over completely. All the remaining stress melts out of your body as you move, so much so you forget Charlie's even in the audience till right at the end. You search the stalls as you hold your finishing pose but you can't spot him. As you leave the stage though, your attention is caught by an ear piercing whistle and cheer.

Sam looks at you wide eyed, trying to stifle a laugh.

"So...definitely hasn't been to a ballet before then ah?" He sniggers.

You tense your face up awkwardly.

"It appears not"

"Ah well, at least you know he enjoyed himself...although maybe mention volume control to him before the next performance" he laughs.

You roll your eyes at him playfully.

Before long you're back on stage again taking your curtsy. Christian strides on stage along with Guilia, but Anthony is nowhere to be seen. After a prolonged stage departure (they always are for the final show), you race to change out of your costume and shower, before travelling out to the front of the building to meet Charlie.

You step out the back door and turn the corner to be met with a sheepish looking boy, awkwardly grasping some flowers. You start to close the gap between you slowly, but your heart gets the better of you and you eventually find yourself sprinting towards him. You jump, wrapping your arms around him. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you in the air. The sound of the paper from the flowers crinkles behind your back as he embraces you, his strong arms holding you tightly and the warmth of his body heating yours.

He finally lowers you to the ground, locking eyes with you.

"You were beautiful, I-I mean amazing. You were just...wow" he stammers out.

He looks at you with that same wide eyed expression you'd seen when he caught you dancing alone in the studios. You go to answer him but the words evade you, instead you lean forward, push his hair out of his face and press your lips into his.

The kiss is tender and sweet, as though he's afraid he'll break you. When you finally seperate, you can't take your eyes off his, but without his body heat to warm you up, you quickly start to notice just how cold you are. Charlie brushes a few strands of stray hair out of your face as you shiver. As if he reads your mind, he slides his jacket off his shoulders and wraps it around you.

"Come on, let's get you somewhere warm"

You walk towards the road and bundle yourselves into a taxi. Charlie does eventually give you your flowers in the car, making himself blush in the process. You thank him profusely, both for the flowers and for coming to see you. You plant a kiss on his cheek, which causes them to fire back up to a deep shade of crimson. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you lean against him, the tiredness from the show crashing over you like a wave. His heart is pounding under his shirt.

The journey is painfully short. All too soon you're snatched away from Charlie's warm chest and the comfy car seats, and are thrust back into the bitter cold wind.

You fumble with you keys, your hands going stiff from the temperature. Charlie places his over yours, steadying it.

"I don't get how it can be this cold here and yet you guys have like no snow" Charlie grumbles.

"Oh Charlie, you're starting to sound a little too English there darling! Complaining about the weather already? You've only been here five minutes" you chuckle, poking your finger into his stomach playfully. A defined set of muscles sit firmly underneath, and now it's your turn to blush. Unfortunately, Charlie notices your reaction.

"Missed me?" He smirks.

"Shush"

You step into your flat, dropping all your belongings sans your flowers, which you place into a glass vase. Charlie follows a couple of steps behind you, eyes scouring the building and a puzzled look growing on his face.

"Do you not celebrate Christmas Y/N?"

"What? Yeah, course I do, why?" You reply absentmindedly, clearing the mess you'd caused in the kitchen before you left this morning.

"The uh- distinct lack of tree, decorations or anything remotely green or red kind of suggests otherwise" he laughs.

"Oh yeah well...no" you trail off awkwardly, turning to face the doorway.

Charlie is facing away from you, looking up at the living room ceiling, presumably searching for any indication of festive spirit.

"I don't know really, like I do celebrate it's just...I guess it's kind of a family thing and I don't have much in the way of that so" you shrug, turning back to face the kitchen counter.

Charlie doesn't respond, and for a moment you think he didn't hear you. But suddenly, there's arms wrapped around yours and lips attached to your neck.

"Hmmm, I don't know Y/N, sounds to me like you just need to get in the festive spirit" he mumbles against your skin playfully.

"And how do you propose I do that?" You say, mock grumpiness in your voice.

Charlie doesn't utter another word. Instead, he spins you around, lifts you and places you on the kitchen counter. You lean forward to kiss him, but you don't get chance. In seconds, he's dropped onto his knees in front of you, and has worked off your trousers. His lips graze the inside of yours thighs, slowly teasing further and further up. A couple of times you attempt to speak, but you're cut off by teeth nibbling on your skin, making your breath hitch and emptying all ideas of any coherent conversation out of your brain.

His tongue runs over your most sensitive parts. He laps at you quickly, before wrapping his mouth around that spot at the top. You dig your fingertips into the countertop, small gasps leaving your lips.

He slowly works a finger inside you, and then another. He pumps them in and out in time with his tongue movements, his gentle whimpers vibrating against you. They're practically inaudible though, completely covered by the sound of your own. His other hand rests on your right thigh, and every time his name leaves your lips it seems to grip tighter. You're sure there'll be bruises in the morning, but you're well past caring about that. You'd let him leave bruises all over you as long as he kept doing this.

The pleasure builds, and you move your hand from the counter to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. He keeps going, his movements not faulting for a moment. Your fingers push a little deeper, making him let out a deep, desperate moan. The sound pushes you over the edge, and you cum against his tongue.

His movements slow, taking time to taste all of you. Eventually, he stands back up to face you. His mouth is wet and his eyes sparkle, the blue contrasting against his flushed cheeks.

"Feeling a little more up for festivities?" He asks gently, smiling knowingly.

"You know I would be, except I have no idea what to give this guy I know as a gift. What he got me was so damn good it's gonna be hard to compete" you reply breathlessly.

"Oh don't worry, I know *exactly* what I want"

Smoke fills your lungs as you take a deep inhale, the tip of your cigarette letting off a glowing amber light, the only indication of your presence sat outside on the brick wall that encircles the roof of the flat below yours.

“Jesus Y/N! You scared the shit out of me!” A voice calls out behind you.

You spin around, searching for the source of the noise. As he steps forward, your flatmate Charlie’s face comes into view, appearing in the doorway like a friendly little beacon.

“Oh, hey Charlie” you smile.

“Those things will kill you ya know?” He says disapprovingly. He attempts to pull a stern expression, but his boyish face makes it hard to take seriously.

“So you keep telling me…want one?” You smirk.

“I don’t smoke Y/N, it’s bad for you” he replies flatly.

You shake your head, smiling “God you’re such a fucking Boy Scout”

He takes a seat next to you, stumbling a little in the darkness.

“Do you ever do anything you’re not supposed to?” You laugh.

“Of course I do!”

You can’t see him fully, but you can sense him blushing beside you.

“Oh yeah I’m sure” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Bet you’re out having orgies and doing lines every weekend right”

“Ah! No! I mean…not that I judge people who do, I just…”

“Don’t do anything fun, I know” you wink, despite knowing he likely can’t see it.

He sits next to you silently. It’s hard to tell whether he’s pissed off, or if he just has no comeback to your accusation.

You’ve been flatmates since your first year of university. When you first met him, you thought he was just a quiet, nerdy international student, but the more you got to know him, the more you’ve grown to appreciate his levelheadedness and sweet nature. On countless occasions he’s taken care of you after a night of drinking that’s got a bit too heavy, or cheered you up when you’ve been messed around by guys. He’s dependable. But you’re both in your final year now, and you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him let loose.

As his flatmate, you decide in that moment it’s your responsibility to get him to live a little before you both go your separate ways at the end of the year. You take your box of cigarettes out your pocket and open them, gesturing towards him.

“Take one Char”

“Huh? Y/N, I don’t smoke” he chuckles.

“Exactly! You don’t do anything! Do you really want to go back to America having not tried anything new? I thought studying abroad was meant to give you new experiences”

He doesn’t answer. Shit, was that too harsh? You’re about to launch into an apology when you feel his fingers touch the edges of the box you’re holding.

“Do you have a lighter?”

You slip your lighter out of your pocket and hand it to him silently. If you’re being honest, you weren’t actually expecting him to take you up on the offer, but you’re here now, and you’re not complaining.

He holds the cigarette between his fingers and lights the end of it carefully. The glow of the flame illuminates his face, making shadows form around his jaw and beneath his cheekbones. He’d admit himself that he’s definitely had a bit of a glow up since moving here, and it’s times like this that really prove it.

“What do I do now?” He asks quietly.

You smile, enamoured by his innocence.

“Just breathe in. Not too much though or you’ll cough, and take a little regular air back with it too” you guide him.

You hear the end of the cigarette sizzle in his hand as he takes his first drag, which is covered up almost immediately by the sound of him coughing and wheezing.

“Euch! Ah-god! How do you do that?” he splutters, still coughing between words.

You rub his back gently, letting him compose himself. Eventually, he calms down, looking at you disheartened.

“See, this is why I don’t try to do anything cool, because I immediately make it look uncool” he mutters.

“It’s fine Charlie, pretty much everyone hacks their lungs up the first time, you just have to get used to it. Try again, but don’t take such a big drag this time” you rub the top of his arm reassuringly.

“I bet you didn’t” he says hopelessly.

”Well no, but that’s because I’m just effortlessly cool” you smirk.

He tries again, more successfully this time. You can sense him smiling to himself as he goes to take another drag. Satisfied that he’s not about to keel over, you take one out of the box for yourself. You gesture to him for your lighter, which he’d forgotten he was still holding. He hands it to you silently, your fingers grazing each others gently as it passes between you.

He watches you carefully as you light your own, staring intently at your face that’s now illuminated properly for the first time since he came out here. You sit together and catch up as you both smoke, chattering about coursework and exams, your plans after uni and your other flatmates latest exploits. Time seems to slip away as you sit and talk, the air growing colder and the city around you becoming quieter. Eventually, Charlie notices you shivering and suggests you go indoors.

“What’s next then Charlie, now you’re the ultimate bad boy? The orgy or the coke?” You laugh as you follow him inside.

“I should probably try having sex with one person before I launch into an orgy” he laughs, but then immediately falls silent, a deep crimson crawling into his cheeks.

You eye him carefully, processing his last comment.

“Charlie…are you a virgin?” You ask gently.

“Y-yes-no…I don’t-I don’t really wanna talk about this actually” he scrambles, panic evident in his voice, wobbling as he speaks.

He attempts to hurry off back to his room, cheeks still burning with embarrassment, but you grab his arm to stop him before he can put too much distance between you. It’s firmer than you expected.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about Charlie” you say comfortingly, taking on a more serious tone than he’s used to hearing from you.

He mutters out a few incoherent sounds, avoiding eye contact with you. If it were anyone else you’d just let them go, not wanting to make them uncomfortable, but you know Charlie, and it’s almost guaranteed that he’ll sit ruminating over this all night if you don’t deal with it now.

Charlie shifts awkwardly where he stands as your hand holds firm on his arm.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Everyone’s ready at their own pace, I know I was winding you up you earlier but if you’re not ready yet that’s nothing to be ashamed of” you attempt to reassure him.

You can’t help but feel a little bit guilty. You wouldn’t have teased him about it so much when you were outside if you’d have known. But you didn’t. He’s cute, and nice, you figured it was a reasonable assumption that he had to have done it at least once.

Charlie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, face screwing up in discomfort. He keeps going to speak, but the words get caught in his throat, so no actual sound comes out. Eventually though, he manages to string a full sentence together…barely.

“It’s not that I’m not ready, I’m ready…I just-girls don’t-I can’t…I dunno, I haven’t had the chance is all”.

He looks so downtrodden you could almost cry.

“You mean girls don’t like you? I find that hard to believe Char” you raise an eyebrow.

He shakes his head, looking down at his shoes.

“Well they’re idiots then.” You say matter of factly. “You’re great Charlie, you’re cute and kind and funny, any girl would be lucky to have you” you smile.

For the first time since his confession, Charlie meets your gaze.

“You really think so?” He asks, a small hint of a smile curling in the corners of his mouth.

“I really do” you answer confidently, rubbing the outside of his bicep with your thumb. You don’t move your hand away, still afraid he might flee, but you do loosen your grip slightly.

As if on instinct, you rise up onto your tiptoes and plant a kiss on Charlie’s cheek. You’re not even sure why you did it, it just felt right. When you lower yourself back down, Charlie is staring at you wide eyed. A beat passes, then you feel his hand slide into your hair, pulling your face towards his.

Tiny fireworks explode in your stomach as your lips connect, sending shivers down your spine. The smell of his aftershave fills your nose as his lips move rhythmically against yours, the kiss growing in intensity so rapidly that you’re finding yourself struggling to keep up. Right when you feel yourself melting into it fully, Charlie breaks away from you. He looks at you, touching his fingers to his lips, before fleeing to his bedroom in a panic.

-

“Go away” Charlie whines out through the door as you knock persistently.

“Charlie would you just talk to me? It’s fine, I’m not mad at you or anything, it’s just a kiss” you call out.

No response.

Fine. Time to change tactics.

“Although it’s not a very nice way to treat a girl, to kiss her and then refuse to talk to her” you mumble, attempting to sound hurt.

A touch manipulative maybe, to use his respectful nature against him, but desperate times as they say.

As expected, that comment does the trick. God he’s such a good guy. You hear shuffling and then the sound of the lock on his door clicking. He doesn’t open it, but you take him unlocking it as invitation enough to enter.

When you do, you find him making his way back over to sit on the end of his bed, looking down at his lap. You quietly shuffle over to him, perching precariously on the soft mattress below you. You don’t speak, letting him go first. It takes him a minute, but eventually his voice breaks the silence filling the room.

“You only said that because you knew it would make me open the door, didn’t you?” He mutters.

You smile. He knows you too well.

“A bit, yeah”

“That’s not nice” he responds.

“Neither is ignoring me” you quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“…sorry” he mumbles, playing with the edge of his hoodie sleeve.

You need to approach this carefully. Charlie’s sensitive, and as this evening has taught you, doesn’t have much experience with women. One wrong move is at best going to leave him spiralling for a week, and at worst leave you without a flatmate.

“You really don’t have to apologise Charlie, it’s honestly fine, what’s a kiss between friends? Besides, it was nice! You’re a good kisser” you grin, nudging into him.

“Shut up” he whimpers, frowning at his shoes.

“Seriously! You’re good! Would 100% recommend to a friend”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” He mumbles.

“Scouts honour” you grin, raising your hand in a salute, eliciting a groan from Charlie.

“You’re not funny” he mutters.

“I am a bit” you smirk.

Charlie finally looks up from his shoes, not quite making eye contact, but at least facing in your general direction now.

“You won’t tell anyone will you? About what I said” he whispers, vulnerability seeping through his words.

“Of course not”

You place a hand on top of his, a gentle reminder that he can trust you. Whilst there’s nothing you love more than teasing Charlie, this is clearly important, and you’d never want to hurt him or betray his trust.

“It’s not that I’m not interested in it and stuff, I am…like a lot” Charlie mumbles.

“I know Char, we share a wall, and your headphones suck” you laugh.

Charlie blushes hard again, groaning and throwing his head in his hands.

“Hey it’s fine! Everyone does it, I’ve no doubt you’ve probably heard me at some poi-”

“No!” Charlie yells out unconvincingly, cutting you off.

Well that was way too quick to be true.

“…okay, well, anyway, I’m sure there are plenty of girls who’d be interested in you, we just need to get you out there” you chime cheerfully.

Charlie shakes his head aggressively.

“and then do what? I literally know nothing, I’d be awful and they’d laugh at me and then I’d be small dick Charlie on campus for the rest of time” he whines, theatrically flinging himself backwards onto the bed.

“A touch overdramatic don’t you think?” You chuckle. “Besides, if your kissing skills are anything to go by I’m sure you’ll do fine” you smirk, squeezing his lower thigh playfully.

Charlie flinches at your touch, jolting upright and shuffling about in his seat awkwardly. You can’t understand why until you notice him desperately pulling the hem of his hoodie down to cover his lap.

“Charlie…did that make you?” You trail off, eyeing him with a mixture of surprise and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.

“P-please leave now” he whimpers, sounding close to tears.

You mull over your options in your head for a moment. On the one hand, the boy is clearly mortified, and probably needs some space. On the other, you’re finding this whole situation surprisingly hot. If a quick touch of his thigh has managed to do that, some of the other things you could do would turn his brain to mush.

You’ve never really thought about Charlie in this context before, but there’s no denying that he is quite cute. You wonder if he’s ever thought about you like that. You do have a tendency to walk around the flat wearing fairly skimpy clothing after all, and clearly he’s quite…frustrated. Has his sweet virgin mind ever wandered one of those times you’ve heard him touching himself through the wall, picturing you bent over in front of him? That thought decides your next move for you, even though it feels totally insane.

“You sure you don’t want a little help with that?” You ask, smiling coyly, eyes gesturing to his lap.

The look on Charlie’s face is so comical you wish you could frame it. His entire brain appears to be short circuiting, leaving him completely speechless, and as you see it, vulnerable to a little bit of pushing.

“It’s just, when you kissed me earlier it gave me goosebumps, seems only fair I return the favour” you tease, placing your hand back on his thigh, a little higher this time.

Charlie lets out a small whimper, but he doesn’t move your hand away, which you take as a green light to keep pushing. You figure piling on the compliments and reassurance is probably going to be the best way to get what you’re after, so you lean into it even more.

“I can’t believe you think no girls would be interested in you Char, I’ve always thought you were hot”.

Not strictly true, but he does definitely look hot now and you’re determined to get what you want, so here we are. You push your hand up a little higher, so it’s right on the precipice of touching his dick through his shorts. You kiss his cheek, before trailing a few kisses down his jaw and neck, making him let out a gentle moan. The sound is music to your ears, encouraging you to attach your lips to his neck again, kissing all the way from his jaw to the collar of his hoodie. His breath quickens as you slowly ghost your lips over his skin, making him squeeze his eyes shut in anticipation.

As much fun as you’re having, you decide going any further with him without properly checking in feels like taking advantage. You pull your lips away from his neck and bring them up to his ear.

“Can I touch you Charlie?” You whisper.

He nods, eyes fluttering open briefly as his trembling hand rises up to cup your cheek. You take the hint, leaning forward slightly to press your lips to his. You weren’t lying earlier when you told him he was a good kisser. His lips are soft, and he sets the pace of his movements perfectly. You feel his tongue brush across your bottom lip, and you happily open your mouth slightly, allowing it entrance.

He shifts slightly to face you better, and you take the opportunity to slide your hand up, palming him through his shorts. He gasps in response, leaning into your touch. It takes a moment, but he eventually regains his composure, allowing him to refocus on the movements his tongue is making against yours.

You fondle him through the fabric of his shorts, eliciting moans and whimpers that seem to be quickly rising in frequency. His kisses are becoming needier and more passionate, as though he’s afraid at any moment you’re going to pull away. You continue rubbing your hand over his dick, gradually increasing the intensity. It’s clearly working because you feel him start to buck his hips up into your hand, rhythmically grinding against the fabric restricting him.

You swing your leg over the top of him so you’re straddling his lap, facing him. He grinds up into you, fingers digging into your back and scalp as he grips you tightly, desperate for more of you.

You’re about to start unbuttoning his shorts when you feel him tense up against you. He freezes like a deer in the headlights, quickly pulling his lips away from yours.

“O-oh fuck I’m so sorry” he moans, eyes screwing shut.

You don’t realise what he’s apologising for until you feel a warm wetness against your skin. You look down to see a growing wet patch forming on the front of his shorts, expanding with each twitch of his dick. Spurt after spurt of cum shoots into his boxers, each one drawing out a more pathetic whimper than the last. The boy looks utterly humiliated.

“I-I…” he stutters, brain scrambling to try and put together something, anything, to protect his ego, but nothing comes.

“It’s okay Char” you whisper in his ear, swinging your leg back over to sit down next to him.

For the first time this evening, you’re completely lost for words. You sit next to him awkwardly, unsure of what to do next, of what, if anything, will make him feel better.

“I’m gonna go grab a towel, I’ll be two seconds okay?” You say gently, brushing his hair out of face.

You stand up and make your way to the bathroom. Honestly, you’re just happy to have a moment away from possibly the most awkward situation you’ve ever been in. Once there, it takes you a couple of minutes to find a clean towel (the joys of being a student), and you stop to wipe away some of the mascara that has smudged below your eyes. By the time you eventually do and make your way back to his room, Charlie is no where to be seen.

"Could you for once not act like a complete fucking twat?" You snap at the face looking back at you.

"Look just chill out Y/N, it's not that deep yeah?" Will snips at you from the sidelines.

Your head whips round to the source of the comment. You lock eyes with Will, rage bubbling up inside you as your fists clench by your sides. You go to take a step toward him when you feel a hand gently place itself on your shoulder.

"Hey, come on, let's leave it. It's not worth everyone falling out over, maybe we can all talk about it later once everyone's calmed down yeah?" Bachs warm voice seeps into your head, calming you. You let him steer you away toward the house.

It's not the first time you've had a shouting match with Arthur, in fact it feels almost constant as of late. Lately, whenever you film together, there's constant quips and suggestive comments teasing you. The shipping from the fans started off subtle at first, but with Arthur's (and gradually, the other boys too) constant encouragement, it's now grown into a full internet conspiracy.

Most annoyingly, he seems to find the whole thing hilarious. Fanning the flames he calls it. Being an annoying prick would be your preferred term.

It's not like there's any chemistry between you and any of the boys. You're convinced you've seen more longing glances between cousins than you lot, which only makes it all the more frustrating. You're just trying to do your job, and the internet won't have it.

"He just doesn't get it. None of you do, not really." You sigh, flopping down on the sofa next to Isaac. "For you, you get the occasional ship edit or a comment or two from a handful of over-invested fans. I get streams of hate messages sent to me everyday if I so much look at any of you too long. Every action I take is already being picked apart by vultures without him sitting there bloody feeding them all the time."

"You really get it that bad?" Issac asks, tilting his head sympathetically.

You pull out your phone and scroll through your filtered comments. There's hundreds, all ripping you to shreds, calling you obsessive or needy, ripping apart your appearance, telling you that you wouldn't be good enough for any of them, no matter how hard you pathetically attempt to flirt with them.

Isaac's eyes scan the comments, eyes widening as he gets further down the list. He sits next to you speechless, a pained expression on his face.

"...I had no idea, I'm so sorry" he says earnestly.

"Welcome to being a woman on the internet" you sigh, turning off your phone.

You sit next to each other in silence, before Wills voice calls through the house requesting Isaac's presence outside.

"I'll have a word with them okay? Do you wanna come out with me?" Isaac asks.

You shake your head, avoiding eye contact. You're between two minds as to whether to just go home. You have no desire to do any more filming, or even interact with most of them at the moment, but you figure it'd be wise to cool your head a little more before you get behind the wheel.

About an hour passes before you see any of them again. You're sat scrolling through your timeline when Arthur's head pops round the door.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"Free country" you shrug.

He takes a seat next to you. The cushion is softer than expected, so he looses his balance as he sits down, wobbling and falling into you.

"Shit sorry!" He chuckles.

You don't laugh back, you just look at him with a mixture of hurt and distain.

"I err...I spoke to Bach" he mumbles awkwardly.

"Right."

"I'm really sorry Y/N, I had no idea all that was going on, I never would've done it if I'd have known." He says solemnly.

You ponder his words, and something within them gets under your skin.

"But why did it take Isaac telling you Arthur? I've been asking you to stop for months and you've completely ignored me, even laughed in my face over it! But now what, suddenly a man tells you no and you're all ears?" You snap at him.

"No I-er" Arthur stumbles over his words.

"Do you not get that this is the entire problem? The fans treat me like shit cause I'm a girl, you guys talk over me because I'm a girl, you don't respect my boundaries because I'm a girl, I'm fucking sick of it!" Your voice raises in volume.

"Shhh okay I know I get it, you're right-"

"Don't fucking shush me!" you yell, rising from your seat.

"Shit no sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just-I'm really sorry, it was ignorant of me...please just sit down. Talk with me about it, I don't want us to fall out over this." Arthur pleads. His voice is a calming whisper, but you can tell from his words he's a lot more worried than he's letting on.

You sit down, leaving a greater gap between you than before. He attempts to look into your eyes, but you refuse to make contact.

"I was a complete dick Y/N, I'm really sorry. You're right, I should've listened to you-"

"Then why didn't you?" You cut him off.

Arthur's sighs. A heavy sigh. As if the weight of the entire world is resting on his shoulders.

"If I tell you that you're just going to hate me even more" he mutters under his breath.

"Not sure that's possible" you reply bluntly.

Arthur shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, searching his brain for the right words.

"I like you Y/N, a lot. Like, not in the way I like the lads you know? I have pretty much since we first met..."

You don't answer, letting him continue.

He sighs again.

"I guess...I guess I just did it because it was the closest I could actually get to having my stupid crush reciprocated. Like if people kept talking about it, it kind of felt real you know?"

He sounds so upset you almost feel bad for him...almost.

"So instead of just telling me that like an adult you decided to act like a 8 year old boy pulling pigtails on the playground?" You jab.

"I know it's fucking stupid...I just didn't know what to do, you're so intimidating, I didn't feel like I could just tell you. Then I acted like an idiot...and hurt you in the process, which is the last thing I'd ever want to do"

You look up, finally letting him meet your gaze. His eyes are watery, as if he might burst into tears at any moment. It makes your heart sting.

"I know I've been a complete dick, but I don't want to lose you...we can still be friends right?" He asks, voice trembling.

The rage in your chest calms slightly, soothed by Aarhus's honesty.

"Just friends?" You question, tilting your head.

"I-err-you'd want to be more than that?" He stutters.

"I do quite like you Arthur, or I did before you started acting like a total bellend anyway." You quip, smirking.

"Really?"

You take his hand in yours. Your eyebrows are still furrowed in annoyance, but there's a hint of a smile underneath that's daring to crack through.

"Why don't we hang out later, just me and you?" You pause. "On the condition that you don't act like an absolute prick, obviously" you raise an eyebrow.

"Obviously." He answers back firmly, a small smile creeping into the corners of his mouth.

"Then it's a date" you smile coyly. "Come on, I'm sick of being inside and I need to get some content filmed, can't have your little crush destroying my career now can I?" You smirk.

"Shut up" he whines.

You walk back outside together, hands separating when you reach the door to the garden. You'd forgot you were even holding it until you felt the sunlight beat down on your face. You saunter over to the boys, calling to them and waving as you pick up the pace of your steps, leaving Arthur behind.

Your phone shows 12 missed calls and 26 unanswered messages from Charlie since Wednesday night. They were frequent at first but now after finishing your Monday rehearsal, it's been over a day since he'd sent you anything. You hadn't read all of his messages properly, but it seems somewhere along the way he'd put two and two together about what had happened. He'd tried reassuring you; telling you it was just a few people out of thousands, that every person who does social media experiences it, that most of his fans seem to really like you; but none of it made you feel any better.

You're slouched on the floor of the studio, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. The building is virtually empty apart from you. Aside from the faint whirr of a sewing machine in the distance, it's completely silent. There's barely any light filtering through the windows and the lights are off, which has left the room fairly dim.

Pictures of Charlie and the other boys incessantly pop up on your timeline. It feels as though your algorithm is intrinsically tied to your misery. Half of the posts are from weeks ago, which makes the whole experience feel like even more of a directly pointed jab at your emotions. You shut your phone off in frustration, sighing heavily.

You get up off the floor, shuffling to adjust your pointe shoes, put on some Jóhann Jóhannsson and start to twirl around the studio. With each pique turn you feel shadows falling off you. You couru and leap, stretch and twist, pouring your heart into every movement. You dance like this for nearly an hour. By the end, you're exhausted and dripping with sweat. You stop and pick up your phone, nearly dropping it out of your slippy hands.

Message from @jamesmarriottyt: Hey Y/N! I really don't wanna intrude, but I just wanted to send you something. Charlie has been fucking miserable for the last week, I don't know exactly what has happened between you guys but I had this saved from editing the video of all of us and thought you should see it. I'd originally been keeping it to show you in case anything like *happened* between you guys because I thought it was sweet but now feels like the right time. I don't want this to seem pushy, you're entitled to feel how you feel and I won't get involved again, but I'll just leave it here then it's up to you if you watch it.

Attached: cringeslime.mp4

Your thumb hovers over the play button. On the one hand, you really don't want to hurt yourself anymore than you already have. Whatever is in the video is no doubt going to confuse you, make you feel guilty or worse. Plus, it's not going to change anything. It's not going to undo how you feel, so what would be the point. On the other hand, you really miss hearing Charlie's voice.

Your thumb moves outside of your control and taps the screen. Immediately, the boys in the video spring to life. It's a chaotic shot of them coming back from lunch. They're joking with each other in the corridor loudly. As they walk towards the studio door, you can see Charlie through the glass. He stands awestruck, watching you dance.

"Are we going in?" Tommy asks somewhere behind the camera, unaware of Charlie in the studio.

"Nah just...give him a minute" Jack responds gently.

You watch Charlie through the screen. His eyes follow you, filled with pure adoration. He plays with the hem of the hoodie sleeve nervously, opening his mouth a few times as if he's going to speak, but no sound ever makes its way out. Eventually you stop dancing, and the others finally enter the room.

You're expecting the video to stop here. Presumably James wanted to show you how cute Charlie looked when he was watching you. To your surprise however, it continues. There's a few teasing remarks from the boys when they enter, but then the camera turns towards the rest of the room as they all get ready to start practicing again. If you listen closely though, you can hear a faint conversation happening behind the camera.

"Why don't you just ask her to go for a drink or something mate? Worst she can say is no right?" Jack whispers.

"I don't know, I don't wanna make her feel weird. Plus I don't think she's interested, I mean look at her, did you see her dancing? She's beautiful." Charlie sighs.

"Well then ask her to do something she won't turn down, anything to just spend some time with her without all of us there. You're a handsome guy man, you've got this! I just think you'll kick yourself if you fly home without even trying."

You try to hear the rest but whoever was holding the camera has moved too far away. The video stops, and you see your own face reflecting back at you in the black screen. It feels like a broken mirror, only capable of reflecting back your worst flaws. Poor, sweet Charlie. He's been nothing but kind and romantic, and you've dragged him along and then slammed the door on him like it was nothing. You're poisonous. Toxic. A black widow causing the demise of anyone who got close enough to care about you.

You sob in frustration. You were finally starting to feel a little better and that video has just thrown you right back into the depths of everything you've been feeling all weekend. It dawns on you in that moment that he is one person who would know exactly how to make you feel better. Really better. Not the kind where you get sad drunk with Will, or the kind where you dance until your feet bleed. Actually better, happy. You awkwardly shuffle your feet, nibbling at your lip before opening your messages to Charlie.

Message from @Y/N: Hey...can I call you?

You're hoping he'll answer immediately. That he'll leap across his room at the sound of a message from you. You find yourself disappointed. You give him another couple of minutes but then pack up your belongings to head home.

It's an agonisingly long journey. You refresh your messages every five seconds, simultaneously scared that he'll answer but also scared that he won't. You feel like a soldier before a battle, trembling at the thought of the unknown that lies before you.

Charlie times his response perfectly. A call from him comes through right as you step through your front door. You pick up the phone with baited breath, hands trembling.

"Hey" Charlie whispers.

His voice breaks your heart. It sounds so innocent and pure, tentative as though he's approaching a wild animal and is terrified of scaring it off.

"Hey...how was your day?"

You don't really know why you asked that.

Obviously he hasn't been having a great time, but you're too afraid to acknowledge what's happened.

"Erm...I've had better. How was yours?" He responds.

"No better than yours by the sounds of it" you hold your breath. "I'm sorry Charlie" you whisper out, half hoping he doesn't hear you.

"You don't need to be sorry, I've just been worried about you. I'm glad you're okay..."

He pauses for a moment.

"Y/N...what happened?" He continues, voice cracking.

You ponder his question for a moment. What did happen? You're not actually totally sure. All you know is you didn't feel good enough, and all those comments just confirmed it for you, but how do you tell him about those comments and how they made you feel without sounding like a lunatic?

"I just...I don't think I was ready to have reality forced on me so quickly" you confide. "I mean, your fans...they really don't like me, and that's only from one video where I was just teaching you how to dance you know? If they knew everything else..." you trail off, afraid to sound jealous or bitter.

"They don't hate you Y/N. I get more hate comments on my own videos then you did on James's!" He laughs kindly, but not at you. It's a laugh of relief, as though he's finally solved an impossible problem and realised it was simple all along. 

"There'll always be people like that, but you learn to ignore them. Besides, you don't have to have anything to do with my job or social media or anything again if you don't want to. There's no reason for them to know anything. If you don't want them to know anything, about you or me or us, then they don't have to." He reassures you.

You sit silently, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks.

"I'm really sorry I ignored you...I just...panicked, and I couldn't face hurting you or stressing you out" You sniffle.

"Hey hey it's okay...please don't cry! You don't have to keep apologising Y/N. My world is a strange one just like yours, I totally get how hard it must be to get thrown into it unprepared, but next time please just talk to me. I know you don't owe me anything, I mean I've only known you a few weeks, but I would rather you hurt me or stress me out than me lose you and not know why, okay?"

"-Okay" you choke out.

Charlie does his best to cheer you up. He asks about your upcoming performance, tells you about new videos he's planning, at one point he even puts on his D&D cape and twirls around on camera. You giggle, sniffling, and for a moment all your worries melt away. He eventually orders you to get some rest, but he makes you promise that you'll message him as soon as you're awake in the morning. You agree, and you sleep better than you have all week.

You awake feeling refreshed, and stick to your promise, messaging Charlie straight away.

Message from @Y/N: Good morning! I'm in rehearsals today but it should be quite a short one, I wondered if you maybe wanted to play some games or something together when I got back? I know there was a couple you mentioned you'd like to show me ☺️

You get up and dressed, a calm energy surrounding you. It's a big improvement from yesterday, and a welcome one at that. When you arrive at the studio though, it's absolute chaos. There's small clusters of people lining the whole corridor up to the studios and you can hear a man's voice shouting. You shuffle up to Lily, her bright blonde hair signalling to you like a distress flare.

"Hey, what's going on?" You whisper, leaning towards her.

"Um...Anthony just punched Christian" she says awkwardly, grimacing.

"What?!"  You shout.

"Shush oh my god! Y/N it was awful! And now, he's arguing with Guilia" Lily whispers urgently, gesturing in their direction.

You stop talking, attuning your ears to the argument occurring up the hallway but with so many shuffling feet and whispers it's too difficult to make out the words being exchanged. From tone alone however, it doesn't sound pleasant.

You continue standing next to Lily, and a few moments later Anthony comes storming past you. His expression is fearsome, although you could swear his eyes looked a little watery. You awkwardly shuffle on the spot, unsure of your next move. The ballet world does not take kindly to picking sides, and yet it constantly seems to force you into situations where you have to. Eventually, the corridor starts to empty, and you take that as a cue to go and find Anthony. Whether or not you'll be on his side once he explains what has happened is unclear, but he doesn't deserve to be alone.

You head outside to find Anthony tucked around the side of the building, smoking a cigarette.

"I thought you'd quit?" You remark wryly.

Anthony lifts his head up, raising an eyebrow at you. His gaze sends a shiver through your spine. Even though he's not angry with you, his energy alone is enough to put you on edge.

"I have quit." Anthony narrows his eyes, as though he's daring you to disagree with him.

"Well in that case, let me quit with you" you smirk. Anthony produces the box of cigarettes from his coat pocket and hands them to you. You free one and light it, taking in a slow drag. It's been a long time since you last smoked but god do you miss it.

You think for a moment about how to approach the conversation. Out and out asking 'what happened?' or 'are you okay?' feels nosy and disingenuous. That being said, it would be ridiculous to completely avoid what just happened.

"Anthony-"

He looks up at you, awaiting your next words.

"What happens next? When you've finished that." You ask, gesturing at the cigarette in his hand.

"Very good question Y/N, I believe what happens is I go inside, walk past rows of gawking students, and then get sacked by Guilia" he remarks candidly.

"Ah...well...thats a bit shit...isn't it really" you reply.

You pause for a moment.

"...was it worth it?" You ask.

"Oh god yes" Anthony smirks, chuckling to himself.

You stand next to each other quietly, leaning against the wall, finishing the last few drags.

Anthony lets out a heavy sigh.

"Well, no use holding off the inevitable"

He stands upright, smoothes out his trousers and sighs, before heading back into the building, his head stooped low.

You give him a moment, then follow him back indoors. You tentatively walk into your studio, and enter to find it completely empty. You're standing there puzzled, when you feel a presence behind you.

"Rehearsals have been cancelled Y/N, you can go home. We'll rehash tomorrow!"

You recognise the voice as Christian's. You turn slowly, and find yourself facing him in awkwardly close proximity. At least you think it's him, the bruising and swelling are making him look a touch lopsided. Anthony really got a good swing in.

"Oh...right...okay..." you stumble over your words awkwardly.

You shuffle away from him and back out of the building. You shake your head, as if trying to knock out all of the strange things that have happened today and head home, calling Will on the way to fill him in. Strangely, he doesn't seem surprised by Anthony's behaviour. It's perplexing. Anthony can be fiery and short tempered yes but the man isn't violent, especially not if it meant losing his job. You brush it off, taking it as Will's unbothered nature and discuss tomorrow's rehearsal.

"I have a rehearsal with Sam, do I know a Sam?"

"Maybe? He's a nice guy, quiet. He used to be with Lyon I think...wait why have you got a rehearsal with him? There's no partner work for Rose is there?" Will questions.

"Oh...yeah I hadn't thought of that, very weird. The rest of the flowers aren't there either, just us two." You respond, bewildered.

"Have you asked Christian?"

"Yeah I did actually! Right after Anthony swung for him, I went over and questioned his artistic vision and planning abilities which he was very thankful for, and then he named me new director of the company and brought me a Ferrari." You reply sarcastically.

"Oh perfect, well then you know exactly what tomorrow is for already then don't you!" Will responds with equal dryness.

You roll your eyes.

"Right, I'm home now so I'm gonna go, call you tomorrow?"

You walk in and plonk your stuff down. For a day with zero actual work, you're absolutely exhausted. You make yourself a tea and pop on some comfy clothes, ready to move on from the whole thing.

Charlie video calls you not long after, eager to hear about your day. You end up playing Unraveled Two together whilst you chat. It's a sweet game, and he's very patient. You tell him all about today's events and he listens intently, sweetly nodding with eyes wide like a puppy. Looking at him like this makes you realise how much you've missed him. He's so funny, and incredibly kind, you really must message James and thank him.

"So...I was looking at flights today...for your show" Charlie says gently, cheeks turning pink.

"Oh you still want to come?" You ask, voice full of excitement.

Charlie nods shyly "of course I do".

"Okay well opening night is the twenty eighth of November and then the last night is the twentieth of December! You can come anytime, but I think it's nicer closer to Christmas"

"I'd love to come for the final night! Then I can give you extra big applause" he grins.

"Sure! Although you'll need to go home for Christmas right? Will the flights not be awful?" You ask with concern.

"You're worth it" he winks.

A deep pink fills your cheeks.

"I'll um-ahem, I'll reserve you a ticket then" you stammer out.

"Oh it's gorgeous! The department really has a soft spot for the rose fairy don't they, it's literally flawless every year."

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing out non existent crinkles on the sparkling pink bodice.

"It is stunning. Do you think it looks okay on me though? I don't look too big for it or anything?" You respond.

You pan the camera up so your whole body is in full view. Wills concerned face looks at you through your phone screen.

"Yes Y/N, it looks more than okay! Although you do look a little tired...no offence. Have you been sleeping?"

You blush.

You hadn't got a wink of sleep last night. Charlie's phone call ended up a lot more explicit than expected in the end. You'd stayed up talking (and exchanging pictures) until the sun came up, and at that point you were so riled up and full of desire for him you couldn't have slept even if you wanted to.

"Not really, but I'm okay! I was up late talking to Charlie. Does it really look that bad?" You ask sheepishly.

"Ah Prince Charming strikes again! Does he not have like a job or friends or whatever to be bothering rather than transforming my friend into a midnight ballerina?" Will chuckles. His remarks sound harsh, but you know he's just teasing you.

"Isn't a midnight ballerina a stripper?" You ask bemusedly.

"Oh is that not what you were doing then?" Will quips back.

Your shifty expression betrays you, evoking laughter from Will. You've missed hearing his real laugh, it's rich but with a slight witchy cackle to it.

You chat for a little longer, catching Will up on the company gossip. You had been silently hoping he would be here to take part in the show but he decided to take a step back, focussing on his health and planning to return in the new year, a decision you were quietly very proud of him for.

You hang up and snap a couple of quick pictures of your costume to send to Charlie. There thankfully isn't too many alterations that need to be made so it already fits quite cleanly. You stare at the photographs, analysing your appearance. The bodice attaches itself to a white classical style skirt, detailed with sparking silver lace and green silk in the shape of flower stems. Delicate mesh arm cuffs accompany it, along with an ornate crown of roses adorning your head. You hit send and then battle your way out of the layers of tulle.

Charlie responds almost immediately.

Message from @slmccl: so is this rose fairy single or? O.o

You let out a high pitched giggle.

"Why are you tittering like a thirteen year old schoolgirl Y/N?" Anthonys's voice reverberates behind you.

You jump, spinning to face him, face flushed.

"Oh...er...I'm not I..."

"...clearly" Anthony replies dryly, eyebrows raised.

He pauses for a moment then smiles gently.

"Go home Y/N. You finished hours ago and I think you have other things you could be doing this evening by the looks of it, so go do them"

You nod at him and head out of the fitting rooms. As you go to pass through the door Anthony stops you, grabbing your arm lightly. His expression warps to a more serious look.

"Really Y/N, what or I've no doubt *who* ever is causing the giggling, embrace it...please"

You nod earnestly and continue on your way.

You mull over Anthony's words as you travel home. The only time you usually hear him make any kind of emotional declaration is when it's filled with anger and copious amounts of swearing. As you stew over his out of character comments, you receive a YouTube link from Charlie. It takes you a moment to process what he's sent you but then you realise it must be James's video. You decide to wait to watch it until you've wound down for the evening. You eat, shower and attempt to catch up on some life admin before you tuck yourself up in bed and finally open the video on your phone.

You're immediately transported back to your first time meeting Charlie and your heart feels warm. You forgot how terrible they all were when they first started but it's cute to see how hard he was trying, even at the very beginning. Although, turns out Charlie had fallen a lot more often than you'd noticed, it's a miracle he didn't end up with more injuries. That first time speaking to him in the first aid room has a sparkle to it now. Letting him rest, his hoarse voice. You wonder if him flinching at your hand on his thigh may have been a sign that he liked you all along, but perhaps you're thinking too much into it.

There's some sweet little interview style clips mixed in. It's nice to see the boys trust and respect in you guys grow as the video goes on. Interestingly though, James has cut out almost all of the clips where they mention Will, and there's nothing at all of their first interaction with him. Presumably, he knows that George was being a bit of a bully when they first met and doesn't want him cancelled which is disappointing but not surprising, still, you're not sure why he's been cut out almost completely.

Looking back on the day Will no showed, you were barely present at all. You can see now how hard some of them were trying to help you, attempting to start conversations and get you to engage with the camera. You don't blame yourself for your apathy though, you were terrified. There's a particular moment that catches your attention as you watch. When you took the boys individually to practice turns, you picked James and Charlie's face dropped. You turn the volume up as high as it will go and listen closely as James walks past Charlie. You remember them whispering to each other but you never found out what they said. If you concentrate, you can just about make out James's voice in the background.

"Ah I'm sorry mate, she doesn't seem all there today though, she probably just picked me at random."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but then you realise, Charlie wanted you to pick him. That's why he looked so downtrodden. Your heart stings. You feel a lot of guilt for how you first got to know Charlie. He was forced into your chaos and your priority really wasn't with getting to know him. That being said, it is a good reflection of the kind of person he is.

As you watch the last little bit of the video you open the comments. They're all very sweet, most of them teasing the boys but also being really supportive of them trying something new. There's a few about you, Avery and Anthony. Someone calls you and Avery pretty, another compliments how fast you guys managed to teach the boys. Suddenly though, a different kind of comment catches your eye.

@chuckleslapwich: Why is it whenever the guys do videos like this, any girls they meet can't just leave them alone? It actually makes me cringe it's so desperate 😬

You stare at the screen, barely blinking. You open the replies, of which there are many.

@vibey_2890: And like half the time they're in relationships as well?? Like are they not embarrassed?

@greggthegasstationegg: girl wtf are are you even talking about? 😂

@philseyelash: It gets so annoying, like all the boys are great so I don't blame them but like it's just irritating to watch. Avery seems like a pick me honestly.

@khajiitneedsslime: You mean Y/N right? You're so real for that! Like you're a moody anorexic bitch in a tutu why are trying to fuck our sweet nerdy dnd man? Oh yeah cause you're a clout chasing gold digger 🙄

@shutupimcrying: @khajiitneedsslime this is a reachhhh! She's literally there to teach them did you want her to just ignore Charlie or? It's giving parasocial

@hazel_magic10_: @khajiitneedsslime I'm not even a fan of Charlie's but I know he'd hate you for this

@willnev1e: Look at Charlie's face whenever she praises him...somehow I don't think she's the problem here 😂

@holly.ibsen-life: this is the problem with you mcyt fans, go and be creepy in your own comment section and stay out of James's , fucking 12 year olds 🙄

Your stomach drops.

How did you not see this coming? You've been on the internet long enough to know what fans can be like. Hell you were on tumblr in 2015, you've seen it all firsthand. You pick up your phone from your lap shaking and open your messages with Charlie. You type and retype the same message over and over again. It's a mixture of desperate pleas for reassurance, broken apologies and confessions of wanting to bolt away from this entire thing and forget each other. You stare at your phone for what feels like hours but you just can't make yourself hit send. Charlie has obviously noticed you typing though, because a message from him pings through.

Message from @slimeccl: so what did you think? i'm assuming all that typing is a congratulatory speech ;)

You just stare, fixed in place. Eventually, you click off your phone and wander downstairs, open the cupboard above your extractor fan and pull out a bottle. You twist off the cap and slump onto your kitchen floor, it's cool surface chilling your bones. The liquid burns your throat as you swig, silent tears staining your cheeks and your shoulders shaking. You hear another message come through, presumably from Charlie. You place your phone on do not disturb and put your earphones in, letting them blast music into you so loud you could swear your brain is shaking.

You don't remember passing out, but you're jolted awake by knocking on your door. The quiet hope it's Charlie jumps into your heart, but even in your drunken state you quickly realise how illogical it is. You stumble up and open the door to see Will holding a similar shaped bottle, looking as rough and sleep deprived as you. Memories of texting Will before you passed out tumble back into your head. He steps into your place without saying a word, walks into your kitchen and lays down on the floor.

"Well, are you joining me?"

You follow him and return to your original spot, swigging from your bottle as you do. You both lie there together on your backs quietly. Will leans over and plucks one of the earbuds out of your ear and places it in his.

"You're gonna give yourself fucking tinnitus, you know that right?" He says flatly, flinching at the volume.

It's been about a month since that night with Charlie. He booked to stay in his hotel for a few weeks longer, although he needn't have bothered as the pair of you barely left your bed. His flight home was last Sunday, which has left your flat feeling sullenly empty. It's a necessary evil though, as rehearsals for your winter show are starting to ramp up. You're eating your breakfast, scrolling through picture after picture of dogs messing around in sunset leaves and influencers holding branded coffee cups when a message from Charlie pings through.

Message from @slmccl: are you awake yet? i miss you :(

You smile as you type a reply.

Message from @Y/N: I'm awake! I have rehearsals this morning ☺️ how was your day?

Little bubbles pop up immediately, making you feel a touch guilty. The time difference makes it hard for you to stay in touch, and Charlie is adamant your sleep is more important than his, forcing himself to stay awake into the early hours of the morning.

Message from @slmccl: have you had your costume yet? you're a fairy right? my day was good :) James said the video is going up tomorrow, shall i send you the link when it does?

Message from @Y/N: Rose Fairy yeah! It's a new role for me so I have more rehearsals than last year and I'm a little nervous but it is exciting! I think I'll have a fitting either tomorrow or Thursday ☺️ Yes absolutely send me the link, it'll be so fun to watch you guys again 🩰

You put your phone down on the counter and get ready to leave for work before slipping it into your bag.

The building is a hive of activity when you arrive. A line of small child sized mice come scurrying past you, giggling to each other as they go making you grin. You remember being that age. Nutcracker season was so exciting, although you're glad you don't have to wear such itchy costumes now.

You walk up the corridor and spot Avery through one of the windows being held upside down. This is her second year in a row playing Arabian since she started with the company and it's easy to see why. She executes her lifts flawlessly every time, making them look effortless.

You open the door to your room and start to warm up your feet. There's only one other dancer here so far, but you've never really spoken to her before. It's her first year with the company, and she's mostly kept to herself. She looks fairly young, so presumably it's her first show as an artist. She glances across at you and smiles shyly, before looking back down at her shoes in her lap, brow furrowing as she fiddles with a needle and thread.

Slowly the room starts to fill, and before long you and 12 other girls are up and beginning to run through the piece. Things go smoothly for the most part. There's a mix of new artists and apprentices with some older more experienced dancers but by the time you all take a break everyone seems to be beginning to meld together cohesively.

Over your break, your stress levels begin to rise. Your role this year feels like a much bigger challenge, and it's starting to play on your mind. You did your first performance as a principle last year, taking the role of Snow Queen and it suited you perfectly. The style was what you excel at, and you adored it as your first role, but Roses quick, sharp movements feel like a lot of pressure. You don't end up eating anything. Instead you sit and scroll through your companies social media, torturing yourself with posts of all the Rose Fairies who have gone before you, and desperately wishing Charlie was awake so you could tell him about it.

You walk back into the studio and steel yourself, determined to go in with a positive attitude. It doesn't last long though. The time races by and the longer you spend working the more frustrated you feel. Despite the reassurances of your peers, your burning calves torment you, whispering insults, casting aspersions and questioning your worth, leaving you wondering who's idea it was to bestow this role on you and whether they were ocularly lacking.

As you finish for the day, Avery walks in. She eyes you with wry compassion as you stand before her, soaked in sweat and every muscle trembling.

"That last turn sequence is a killer huh?" She chuckles at you.

"No shit, and to think I was complaining about fairy of the songbird not too long ago! I didn't know how easy I had it!" You grumble back, a pained expression on your face.

"I had my fitting this afternoon..." Avery grimaces and then silently mouths at you "What the fuck?".

"Oh no! Was it that bad?" You ask with concern.

"Y/N I looked like MC Hammer."

You snort at her comment, causing several heads to turn in your direction.

"I don't see why they don't just use your costume from last year? Surely they're just making extra work for themselves?

Avery shrugs.

"Shall we go anyway, before I-"

"Make anymore sounds resembling a large piglet? Yes let's" Avery jibes teasingly, cutting you off.

You walk out of the building together chattering away. As always, Avery is hounding you for any update about Charlie. You've purposely kept her mostly in the dark so far. She knows that Charlie had stayed over (which she asked several invasive, horrifyingly perverse questions about) but you haven't mentioned much more than that.

It's not that it's a secret, it just doesn't really feel like there's anything to tell yet. Aside from about 2 weeks of constant sex and online communications that are plagued with scheduling issues, there's nothing to share. It’s not like you're dating, you don't even know if you're exclusive, at least on his side anyway. So, as much as you would like to stand and gush about how cute he is, how he made you breakfast pretty much every day he was here, how he always asks about your work and friends...you don't.

Avery seems disgruntled by your lack of commitment, although it's hard to ascertain whether it's your commitment to the conversation or to Charlie himself that she's annoyed by. You try and steer the conversation towards her love life instead which you regret immediately. Five minutes later you're at your bus stop, with the utter filth that Avery has just recounted to you still swimming around inside your head.

Your evening drags along silently. Charlie should wake up soon and message you back so you're mostly just filling time until he does, but your mind seems to take his absence as an opportunity to torture you with further feelings of inadequacy. After cooking dinner you load up a video of Fumi Kaneko to watch while you eat, analysing every movement of her performance. She's so fast without ever looking as though she's rushing, and her leaps make her look as though she's weightless. You push your food around with your fork dejectedly.

*buzz buzz*

You snatch your phone up, silently praying Charlie is finally awake.

Message from @slmccl: i bet you'll look so beautiful, can i see your costume when you get it? :)

You smile, all feelings of unworthiness melting away for a moment.

Message from @Y/N: Of course! I guess that's the one upside of the role, it's a super pretty costume ☺️ I wish you lived closer so you could come and see the show!

Message from @slmccl: the one upside? are you not enjoying it, you seemed excited this morning? :(

As you type a response another response pops up, interrupting you.

Message from @slmccl: i would walk all the way to england if it meant i got to watch you dance again :3 maybe i could come?

Message from @slmccl: only if you want me there though, i don't want to invade your personal space or anything

You start to answer him but another message comes through, and then another.

Message from @slmccl: but i could travel? i really don't mind it's worth it, i mean my girl is a literal fairy princess why wouldn't i wanna see that

Message from @slmccl: not my girl as in like i own you just that it would be nice because i care about you and you're the fairy which i looked it up and it sounded super important and cool so

Message from @slmccl: i mean i'm sure it's all important, just that you're more important because it's you and also the fairy is like a big role right?

Message from @slmccl: although there were a lot of fairies so maybe i got the wrong one and that's why you're not excited about it, shit i'm really sorry

The little bubbles finally stop long enough for you to type a response.

Message from @Y/N: I would love for you to come Charlie...stop spiralling 😂

Message from @slmccl: noted...why the fuck do you even talk to me jesus (o_o')

You smile at your phone. How he can type so fast remains a mystery but him admitting he researched your role is adorable, even if it was in the middle of a panic induced ramble.

Message from @Y/N: 1. Because that freak out (although totally unnecessary) was actually very sweet and 2. Because I've seen you naked 😉