𝑔𝑜𝒹𝓈 & 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 !

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

⌠ NATALIA DYER, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ANYA CASIRAGHI! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (embroidery on lace, waking up early to catch the sunset, the scent of fresh strawberries, perfect balance on tiptoes). when it’s the (libra)’s birthday on 9/24/99, they always request their ARANCINI DI RISO from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati, 24, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro

“  i  know,  ”  charlie  starts,  shaking  his  head  with  a  flutter  of  his  eyelashes.  “  just  be  careful  what  you  wish  for  —  it’s  going  to  be  a  long  summer,  and  we’re  allowed  to  text  now.  i  can’t  promise  i  won’t  spam  your  inbox  a  little  bit  —  but  i’ll  spare  you  anything  past  midnight.  ”  it’s  meant  to  be  a  joke,  though  perhaps  there’s  some  truth  there.  charlie’s  been  known  to  text  rather  unashamedly,  and  it’ll  be  no  different  with  anya.  he  reckons  tommy  should  thank  her  —  she’ll  be  getting  all  the  thoughts  that  don’t  go  into  letters,  now.  the  tinier  things  he  doesn’t  have  time  to  ruminate  on  or  forget.  it’s  a  domain  they  aren’t  quite  used  to,  and  he  hopes  the  illumination  of  daytime  anxieties  won’t  discourage  him  from  reaching  out  to  her.  anything  beyond  midnight  will  be  savored  for  letters,  regardless  of  whether  he’ll  actually  send  them.  “  you  don’t  have  to  thank  me,  ”  there’s  a  small  breath  of  laughter  at  the  thought,  and  charlie  doesn’t  know  that  she  understands  he  isn’t  saying  it  to  be  polite,  or  to  make  her  feel  better.  rather,  it’s  because  he  means  it  …  he  hasn’t  ever  said  anything  to  her  that  he  doesn’t  mean.  there’s  no  should  be  no  question  of  whether  anya  casiraghi  is  beautiful  —  she  always  has  been,  always  will  be.  from  the  smallest  fibers  of  her  soul  bared  onto  parchment,  to  the  way  her  eyes  glitter,  and  the  way  she  just  shines  without  ever  having  to  try.  it’s  impossible  not  to  recognize  her  radiance,  even  when  he’s  only  reading  her  through  a  thin  page  of  paper.  it’s  the  kind  of  beautiful  that  doesn’t  dim  with  time,  for  it’s  so  well-ingrained  in  her  bones  in  a  way  that  spans  beyond  mere  looks.  he  tilts  his  head  at  her  softened  expression.  “  i  can’t  blame  you  for  worrying  …  but  i  don’t  want  you  to  feel  like  you  have  to,  ”  charlie  starts,  though  he  knows  all  too  well  you  can’t  simply  shut  off  anxiety.  “  i  just  …  i  want  you  to  enjoy  yourself,  is  all.  no  weights,  nothing  to  stress  over.  i  know  i  haven’t  got  the  best  track  for  staying  organized,  but  it  isn’t  my  first  time  planning  something  like  this.  i’m  plenty  capable,  you  know.  ”  he  says  it  with  an  amiable  grin,  to  show  there’s  no  malice  in  his  tone.  charlie  doesn’t  always  do  a  great  job  of  showing  it,  but  he’s  thoughtful.  even  despite  every  destructive  tendency,  he  couldn’t  mess  something  like  this  up.  “  i’ll  keep  you  updated,  but  you  can’t  know  everything.  there’s  got  to  be  some  surprises.  ”  charlie’s  got  the  upper-hand  of  having  spent  six  months  in  greece  prior  to  his  first  year  at  blackthorne  —  he  knows  enough  of  the  language,  and  all  the  best  places  to  eat,  to  see,  to  experience.  he  wants  to  share  it  all  with  anya,  to  watch  her  feel  the  joy  he  can  never  quite  shake  when  reflecting  on  his  adventures.

the  glass  of  water  is  switched  so  seamlessly,  charlie  hardly  registers  it’s  a  different  cup  as  he  brings  the  chilled  rim  to  his  lips  again.  it’s  an  easy  flow  to  fall  into  when  you’re  with  someone  you  trust  so  completely  —  anya  could  talk  him  into  anything,  even  without  trying.  he’s  too  entranced  by  their  interaction,  anyway,  his  gaze  devoted  to  her  features.  the  blue  of  her  eyes,  and  the  way  they’re  more  cerulean  than  his.  he  gets  tired  of  the  grey  of  his  reflection  —  but  hers  is  something  he  could  get  lost  in.  there’s  the  slope  of  her  nose,  and  the  curve  of  her  lips  ;  the  way  her  cheeks  turn  rosier  when  she  laughs,  as  if  the  sheer  act  is  something  to  feel  shy  about,  no  matter  the  joke.  in  all  his  twenty-some  years  of  knowing  her,  chalie’s  never  wanted  anya  to  feel  she  has  to  shrink  herself  when  she’s  around  him.  he’s  always  preferred  the  opposite  —  getting  to  know  her  in  a  way  that’s  unapologetic,  as  if  he’s  got  a  front  row  seat  to  the  cinema  of  her  imagination,  her  deepest,  innermost  musings.  he  wants  to  devour  what  little  time  they  have  left  together,  for  tomorrow,  they’ll  be  back  to  nearly  four  million  feet  separating  them.  back  to  letting  weary  days  and  hazy  nights  quiet  the  sound  of  her  voice,  blurring  the  candidness  of  her  features,  the  delicacy  of  her  touch,  and  the  way  his  fingertips  seem  to  buzz  as  they  trace  her  skin.  he  wants  to  enjoy  these  six  inches  while  they’re  still  a  luxury  they  can  afford  —  it’s  only  inevitable  the  summer  will  be  less  sunny  without  her  around,  and  perhaps  it’s  embarrassing,  but  he’ll  count  down  the  days  until  she’s  breathed  into  existence  once  more.  separation  will  be  easier  to  bear  after  greece,  knowing  there’s  a  shorter  span  of  time  between  their  next  encounter.  in  all  his  years  of  academia,  he’s  never  once  looked  forward  to  standing  at  the  foot  of  another  long  school  year  ;  but  as  he  stands  in  this  ballroom,  he  thinks  there’s  a  thousand  tiny  things  that’ll  make  it  all  worth  it  —  and  anya  casiraghi  is  worth  more  than  all  of  them,  combined.

        EVEN AFTER WATCHING CALEDONIA GO UP IN SMOKE, it still feels wrong to talk about her mission in detail. loyalty isn’t something cecilia gives very often, so once it’s been administered it’s hard to unlearn it. it’s also just embarrassing talking about it, honestly, but she’ll grit her teeth in the name of trying to mend their sisterly relationship.   “ yes, but i recommended him for the position. ”   cecilia doesn’t see it as romantic – she sees it as trying to drag him down with her.   “ you’re probably right, conor’s… too kind. ”   kinder than she deserves – kind of like anya, in a way.   “ i just… don’t know how to face him, i suppose. ”   it’s a mixture of guilt and shame, two siblings battling for dominance in her head every time she thinks about him. yes, conor will probably forgive her, if not right away, then eventually. but she also knows his view of her will forever be tarnished, much like everyone at gallagher unable to see past the things she’s done. she’s already not returning next year to escape that identity ;   the last thing she wants is to have to run from it with him, too.   “ it’s all so embarrassing, ”   cecilia sniffs. feelings.

        ANYA’S RIGHT :  cecilia doesn’t want a sugarcoated answer from her. that doesn’t make what she’s saying any easier to hear, even if she did anticipate it.   “ i’m not surprised, ”   her lips purse, and the last thing she wants right now is to think about her conversation with conor in the sublevels,   “ we didn’t end the conversation on a high note. ”   she doubts anya will find that very surprising. the idea of conor caring about her enough for anya to notice makes her still for a second – and again, it’s not something cecilia wasn’t already aware of. but it just makes her feel BAD after everything, when realistically there shouldn’t be anything bad about him caring for her.   “ i tried to recruit him, ”   she tells her, voice quiet.   “ for… caledonia. ”   that should explain enough.

        IT TAKES A FEW SECONDS FOR CECILIA TO REMEMBER how old anya actually is, having to do the math in her head. when was the last time she had celebrated her sister’s birthday ?   they won’t even get to this year, since anya will be back in gallagher by then.   “ you’re definitely not. if you were sal’s age, on the other hand… ”   she rolls her neck a bit, flashing her sister a playful smile.   “ thank you, anya. ”   a few months ago cecilia would’ve poked holes in her sister’s kindness, pointing out that she was probably just saying that to appease her. today she’ll take it at face value, because she doesn’t have much else to her name right now. the mention of conor has her glancing away from a moment, to try to mask the small frown on her lips.   “ eventually, yes, ”   she sighs, because that’s not a conversation she’s looking forward to.   “ i’m not really sure what i’ll say to him, but i’m sure i’ll figure it out. ”   brown eyes flicker back to anya curiously.   “ has he said anything about me ? ”

02. ANYA CASIRAGHI.

“Don’t hide your scars. They make you who you are.” – Frank Sinatra

he  shakes  his  head  at  the  comment,  though  it’s  in  good  nature.  he  might  be  offended  if  it  was  anyone  else,  but  this  is  anya.  he  has  no  reason  to  feel  insecure  with  her.  “  you  think  i  love  to  complain  ?  blimey  …  you’re  starting  to  sound  like  tommy,  ”  charlie  jests,  giving  her  a  light  nudge  with  his  elbow.  it  makes  him  feel  better  when  he  sees  her  smile  again,  though  he  can’t  help  feeling  a  little  guilty  for  getting  her  to  that  memory  in  the  first  place.  “  that’s  my  fault,  ”  he  frowns,  though  he  doesn’t  want  to  dwell  on  the  bad  right  now.  they’ve  got  all  summer  for  that.  he  wants  to  enjoy  their  last  night  together.  “  but  you  look  lovely,  really.  tears  and  everything.  ”  it’s  another  attempt  at  making  her  feel  lighter,  although  he  does  truly  mean  every  word.  he  doesn’t  think  anya  could  look  like  a  mess  if  she  tried.  as  their  embrace  ends,  his  hands  drop  to  her  arms,  grasping  them  lightly  as  he  grins  at  her  acceptance.  a  bystander  might  think  he’s  out  of  his  mind,  merely  proposing  the  idea  because  he’s  had  a  little  too  much  to  drink  and  he’s  feeling  impulsive.  but  in  spite  of  his  tendency  to  be  spontaneous,  charlie’s  truthfully  been  thinking  about  this  for  a  lot  longer.  he  always  raves  about  his  travels,  recounting  stories  and  imagery  seemingly  straight  from  a  painting  …  but  like  the  shared  adolescence  that  was  stripped  from  them  when  they  were  young,  spending  holidays  together  is  another  thing  they  never  had  the  fortune  of  experiencing.  he  thinks  they’ve  earned  it.  for  the  year  they’ve  both  had,  and  for  the  sake  of  getting  to  be  someplace  where  it’s  practically  impossible  to  feel  low.  “  perfect.  i’m  truly  so  happy,  ”  he  smiles,  the  corners  of  his  eyes  crinkling  as  a  breath  of  laughter  falls  past  his  lips.  “  i  can  pick  you  up  in  tuscany,  and  we  can  take  the  ferry  …  i’ll  work  out  all  the  details.  you  won’t  have  to  worry  about  a  thing.  ”

their  entire  interaction  has  charlie  thinking  back  to  his  conversation  with  tommy  from  earlier  in  the  night,  when  his  brother  asked  him  if  he’d  ever  looked  at  anya  as  more  than  a  friend.  it  caught  him  off  guard  in  the  moment,  a  frown  turning  onto  his  features  as  he  combed  through  the  few  physical  memories  they’ve  shared  together.  there’s  enough  that  he  can’t  help  the  fondness  he  feels  when  thinking  back  to  the  family  gatherings  that  brought  them  together  —  but  they’re  also  distant.  scarce.  prior  to  last  school  year,  the  sound  of  her  voice  ringing  in  his  ears  was  that  of  a  faraway  melody,  muffled  enough  that  if  he  wasn’t  careful,  he  could  lose  it  to  radio  static  and  the  scratch  of  a  warped  vinyl  record.  it’s  changed  since  then,  the  image  of  her  features  no  longer  a  mirror  of  the  girl  from  those  memories  they  made  so  long  ago  —  but  anya  casiraghi  the  way  she  is  now.  the  way  she  is  standing  before  him,  with  her  curled  brunette  locks,  and  her  glittered  white  gown.  initially,  he’d  answered  that  he  didn’t  know  …  that  it  didn’t  matter.  charlie  couldn’t  bear  the  thought  of  it,  not  wanting  to  veer  into  a  treachery  where  he’d  have  to  take  into  consideration  the  notion  that  she  truly  is  too  good  for  him.  that’s  the  way  it  always  goes,  when  romantic  feelings  become  involved.  but  nothing  is  ever  the  way  it  is  with  everyone  else,  when  it  comes  to  anya.  when  he’s  with  her,  he  isn’t  worried  about  how  he  measures  up  against  her.  she  doesn’t  make  him  question  his  worthiness,  or  whether  he’s  deserving  of  the  love  and  companionship  she  yields  him  everyday.  it’s  never  been  one-sided  ;  they’ve  both  done  so  much  good  for  one  another.  if  he  were  to  really  think  about  it,  he  might  have  a  different  answer  the  next  time  tommy  asks  him  the  same  question  about  the  girl.  it  isn’t  because  he’s  drunk  —  he  looks  at  her  in  a  way  a  friend  wouldn’t,  and  his  touch  lingers  in  a  way  a  friend’s  wouldn’t,  because  perhaps  in  some  ways,  they’ve  always  been  just  a  little  bit  more  than  a  word  like  friends  can  define.  she’s  half  his  soul  ;  like  twin  flames,  forged  from  the  same  fire.  there’s  so  much  of  her  inside  of  him.  charlie  doesn’t  know  what  this  means  in  the  terms  of  which  tommy  posed  the  question  ...  but  he  knows  it’s  at  least  a  little  more  special  than  friendship.  they’re  too  well  entangled.

he  brings  the  glass  to  his  lips  carefully,  the  rush  of  liquid  feeling  cool  in  contrast  to  the  red  of  his  cheeks.  he  hadn’t  realized  he  was  dehydrated  until  that  moment,  and  he  downs  the  drink  rather  quickly.  he  considers  her  proposal,  his  eyes  moving  toward  the  french  doors  on  the  edge  of  the  ballroom.  “  the  terrace  is  always  so  busy,  ”  he  muses,  the  decision  all  but  made  up  in  his  mind.  charlie  looks  back  at  her  with  a  grin.  “  but  it  looks  really  nice  outside  …  we  should  walk.  ”  he  could  use  it  —  he’s  been  in  one  place  for  too  long.  “  c’mon.  i’ll  carry  your  heels  and  everything,  if  you  need  it,  ”  he  laughs  lightly,  an  attempt  to  sway  her,  though  he  isn’t  sure  she  needs  any  convincing.

– "C'MON," SHE LAUGHS, NUDGING HIM BACK WITH HER OWN ELBOW, " i'm just teasing you. " she makes a face, scrunching up her nose, " you know i don't mind whatever you have to say. i like hearing what you're thinking about. all of it. " so, she thinks she's earned the right to tease him because more than anyone else, she wouldn't mean it. anya bottles up her personality a lot of the time around people, tries not to stand out or be too memorable in case the impression she leaves is unlikeable. but with charlie, it spills out over the edges, and she doesn't mind if she leaves a bit of a mark behind because she's comfortable with the impression. she can't help but be herself around him. " it's not your fault, " she repeats firmly, leaning into his touch as his fingertips brush over her cheeks. it was a big part of her life, so she was bound to think about it, and money is something that comes up more often than she'd like. it's funny how you don't really notice money until you don't have any of it. " but thank you, that's kind of you to say. " he's being polite. she appreciates it, though, and she knows the puffiness will subside momentarily as long as she can distract herself. for all of charlie's bravado in proposing this now, he's going to have to bring it up again because anya won't. she'll be nervous that he didn't really mean it about paying for her, and she won't want to be the one to push it if it was just an offer made after a couple drinks. still, it's not the first time she's thought about seeing more of the world with him, all the times that he's brought up his travels with her she's wondered what it might be like to be there, right alongside him. there's the usual voice in the back of her mind that tells her not to get her hopes up, but she can't help it – she's beaming, caught up in his smile and the sweet way that the corners of his eyes crease when he's happy. her expression softens for a beat. " i always worry about things, " anya reminds charlie, because it's practically a personality trait of hers though a therapist would just call it anxiety. " but okay, we can talk about it. i want to know everything. " basically, she just wants to be included, and surely she'll be excitedly sending him ideas once she's more comfortable.

once, when anya was fifteen, she'd written this : “i'm so frustrated with my parents. it feels like i could stand in the center of the room and scream and scream and they wouldn't even look up. my mother would probably say something like, " that's nice, honey. " i just don't know what to do. i feel like no one here notices me and i don't know what i've done wrong.” it's essentially the dramatic diary entry of a teenage girl, but anya is still trying to grow out of that. most of the time she has felt overlooked, unnoticed unless she did something absolutely drastic, something like nearly getting herself killed. charlie has never overlooked her in such a way, and even now, his eyes meet hers in a way that makes her feel like he really SEES her. she doesn't feel forgotten or misunderstood in the slightest, in fact, she feels so completely at ease. it's impossible not to adore someone who impacts your life like that, and the way she feels for him runs so deep that she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to get it out of her. she has never had a friend like him, and she probably never will again. she wonders if back then there was some intrinsic part of her that knew how special he was, some instinct that drew him to her – but even as the thought crosses her mind, she knows that's not true and there's no need to overcomplicate it. as a child, it's much more simple than that, you gravitate toward comfort and the things that make you happy. she chose him because he looked at her like he saw her, spoke to her like he knew her, and that hasn't changed over the years.

Stella’s bright expression radiates toward Anya, her other arm rising to place a hand on Anya’s forearm. “What, you think so?” She giggles, looking down at the red dress they’d picked out together, Anya playing a hand in what feels like a bit of a debut. Stella’s a different person than she was when she arrived in September, draped in a champagne colored gown at the masquerade ball. She likes red better too. “Well I have you to thank for helping me get all dolled up. I couldn’t have asked for a better date, stare all you want so I don’t feel weird when I do it back.“ Stella teases, but she doesn’t feel like she helped Anya get ready nearly as much, it seems so effortless for the other girl. She sighs at the question but her smile doesn’t drop, “Better now.” She says honestly, but looks out into the party for a moment. “It doesn’t feel real, if I’m being perfectly honest.” 

         “ I WOULD TOO, ”   she smiles slightly at anya’s words, as she speaks about wanting to experience the world. it’s funny how cecilia had thought that running away would make her become more worldly, able to travel more and have new experiences that her family couldn’t have offered her. in reality, cecilia had spent nearly all her time in england – first london, then oxford. going to america for caledonia had been her big international adventure, and look how that turned out.   “ but i’m sure you will, if you want to. there’s always a way. ”   if anya had money, she’d be able to travel ;   it’s hard for cecilia to ignore that little fact.   “ oh, i don’t know. i’d like to, but… there’s so much to figure out right now, that hardly seems important. ”   it’s not without some sadness for her to say that too, because there had once been a time where her art had been the most important thing to her. cecilia misses those days.

“You can hang out with a friend on friend dates however many times you want,” he informs her with the air of a tutor. “Boys and girls can be friends, you know this. Like, look at us! We’re friends,” Sam grins, teasing her now because of course she gets that. “Manchesi, right? She seems really cool— hey are you taller than her?” he asks, joking about Anya’s height, but he also notes that her petite frame makes her a great dance partner, lithe and delicate.

he  kept  every  letter  she  sent  him,  some  tucked  away  at  the  bottom  of  a  desk  drawer,  others  scattered  in  storage  boxes  under  his  childhood  bed.  he’s  too  sentimental  to  ever  throw  them  away  —  the  type  to  hoard  ticket  stubs  and  old  papers,  christmas  cards  and  grocery  store  receipts.  his  own  letters  became  anthologies  to  his  youth,  and  anya’s  are  just  another  volume  of  the  same  story.  he  thinks  he’ll  want  to  read  through  them  again,  when  he  returns  home  for  the  summer.  it’s  the  sense  of  comfort  charlie  seeks  when  he  feels  like  everything  else  around  him  is  changing.  of  course  the  luxury  of  knowing  her  so  intimately  makes  him  fairly  biased  —  he  holds  her  in  such  high  regard  she’s  all  but  become  the  standard,  and  though  he  used  to  be  concerned  about  doing  something  wrong  to  drive  her  away,  he’s  never  once  considered  she  might  be  capable  of  the  same.  he  figures  anya  could  hold  him  at  the  wrong  end  of  a  knife,  and  he’d  still  think  the  world  of  her.  this  year  has  proven  there’s  enough  trust  to  forgo  these  insecurities  —  hurting  each  other  would  only  mean  hurting  themselves,  anyway.  “  maybe,  ”  he  shrugs,  because  she’s  probably  right.  but  charlie’s  happy  he’s  got  the  privilege  of  bearing  that  bias.  when  anya  speaks  again,  he  looks  at  her  more  pointedly,  a  frown  on  his  lips.  “  —  you  could  never  be  a  burden,  ”  he  cuts  in,  thinking  it’s  absurd  she’d  even  suggest  the  idea.  he  wishes  anya  could  see  even  a  fraction  of  the  person  he’s  looking  at  …  perhaps  she  might  not  see  a  human  at  all,  but  something  ethereal.  angelic.  his  voice  is  steadfast  as  he  continues,  “  and  i  know  i  don’t  owe  you,  but  it’s  just  …  i  care  about  you,  too,  and  i  want  to  do  this.  ”  he  means  to  reassure  her  —  his  intent  is  purely  selfish,  acted  on  because  he  wants  to  spend  time  with  her  this  summer,  without  having  to  worry  about  nico  and  cecilia,  or  sal  and  his  girlfriend.  it’s  no  offense  to  them,  but  things  have  always  been  rather  personal  with  anya.  he  cherishes  time  alone  with  her.  he  also  knows  it’ll  be  the  first  summer  since  her  parents  were  incarcerated,  and  surely  that  warrants  some  yearning  to  get  away  from  everything.  when  he  notices  tears  brimming  at  her  eyes,  charlie’s  own  eyes  widen  a  little.  “  anya,  you’re  crying  !  ”  there’s  surprise  in  his  tone  as  he  wipes  his  thumbs  at  the  corners  of  her  eyes  —  gently,  so  he  doesn’t  ruin  her  makeup.  there’s  a  fleeting  thought  that  he  should  have  stayed  away,  for  she  shouldn’t  be  dealing  with  this  in  the  final  hours  of  her  second  year  at  gallagher  …  but  he  doesn’t  let  himself  have  it.  he  doesn’t  regret  asking  anya,  no  matter  her  reaction.  in  haste,  his  lips  find  the  top  of  her  head,  planting  a  kiss  before  he  pulls  her  into  a  cradling  hug.  with  his  arms  wrapped  around  her,  he  shakes  his  head,  resting  it  on  top  of  hers  as  he  speaks  up  in  reassurance.  “  then  just  …  say  yes.  don’t  worry  about  anything  else.  ”

a  hand  idly  strokes  her  hair  as  she  rests  her  head  on  his  chest,  his  heartbeat  in  tune  with  hers.  charlie  doesn’t  overthink  it  right  now,  though  he’ll  feel  the  hangover  of  her  touch  in  the  morning,  lingering  in  stride  with  the  spinning  headache  he’s  sure  to  be  greeted  with  at  sunrise.  he’ll  probably  question  himself,  wonder  if  this  was  okay,  or  if  she’ll  think  it  was  strange.  it’s  anya,  sure,  and  it’s  only  dancing  …  but  there’s  a  shift  in  their  laughter,  in  their  smiles,  in  the  way  a  simple  gaze  becomes  so  focused  it’s  as  if  time  has  stopped  moving  completely,  and  they’re  not  amidst  a  crowd  in  the  ballroom.  there’s  new  light,  and  though  charlie’s  always  been  too  caught  up  in  himself  to  see  it  even  now,  their  hearts  have  gradually  grown  beyond  mere  old  friends.  a  fluttering  chuckle  escapes  his  lips  when  she  smoothes  over  his  collar,  and  he  no  longer  knows  where  to  place  his  hands,  so  they  fall  at  his  side.  the  ballroom  feels  warmer  as  crystal  hues  drag  up  toward  the  ceiling  just  to  lessen  the  tension  of  the  moment,  and  he  doesn’t  blink  back  at  her  again  until  she  speaks  up,  making  a  suggestion  for  a  refreshment  he  didn’t  realize  he  needed.  “  water  sounds  good,  yeah.  i  could  use  some  air  too.  ”  an  invitation  to  join  him  outside,  or  a  chance  for  her  to  return  to  prior  entanglements,  if  she’d  prefer  it.  he  hopes  for  the  former.

– ANYA SUPPOSES THAT IF ANYONE'S GOING TO BE UNCONDITIONALLY IN HER CORNER, it might as well be charlie. he's already been offered every warning label that she could possibly come with, knows all about her family, her past, and the things that scare her. he’s the only person in the world that knows how she got the weird scar on the back of her left knee when she tried to climb out her bedroom window, just to see if she could ( it’s in one of her letters, the angle she’d fallen at illustrated with a diagram. ) so to speak, he's best suited for the job. charlie always speaks in such absolutes, and there's a pull at the corner of her lips only because he's so dramatic. anya just shakes her head slightly without the energy to argue with him because she doesn't think that's true, she just isn't a burden because she tries so hard not to be. she's made herself small to the point of invisible sometimes to keep from troubling others, and she hopes one day she will have the confidence in herself to believe she is the person that charlie seems to see in her. 

" alright, alright, " anya concedes, " i just had to push a little to be sure, i know you'd tell me if it was genuinely irritating to you. you do love to complain, " she tries to lighten the mood, though the fond smile on her lips might betray her a little bit, it’s almost too soft. unlike herself, charlie isn't exactly subtle when he isn't the biggest fan of someone, but that has always been good for anya to be around someone where she never has to worry where she stands. if there is room for interpretation, insecurities will have her assuming the worst. anya cringes slightly at the sheer volume of charlie's voice, announcing to everyone in the nearby vicinity that she's a sensitive baby. she tries to blink the tears back but they wind up running down her face as charlie's fingertips wipe them away. " yes, i know, " she says with a laugh, because his reaction was so amusing to her that for a moment she nearly forgot why she was starting to cry in the first place. " i just...i thought about last summer and i just got sad for a moment. i'm okay, though, " she adds with a sniff, " i'm trying not to look like a mess. " charlie pulls her close quickly and she wraps her arms around him, welcoming the initial comfort that comes from it. the smell of his cologne lingers along with the scent of alcohol, and it occurs to her for a moment that maybe a holiday alone with charlie for such a period of time might not be the most positive thing for her. there's also the thought that makes her feel like it's not fair, that other people wouldn't have to worry about things like that, and she's tired of not doing what she wants out of fear. she puts it out of her mind for now and listens to his advice. " okay, " she nods, pulling back from charlie's embrace and so that she can look up at him properly, " yes. "

“ from where we’re standing, yes. ” if anya is under the impression that her and stella share the kind of relationship where they tell each other everything, then he figures anya might know a few things that could come in handy, at least information beyond the books. though, he wont take it at face value since it would’ve come from stella. “ what makes you so sure of that? did she tell you why she ran away from them? ” he wants facts, not feelings.

“Yeah, her!” he laughs, endeared at the one thing Anya does remember. Sam looks back at her with a bashful smile, if only because he knows her, and he knows she believes that to be true. “Just a friend, I promise,” he assures her, smile not leaving him as he takes her hand and begins to lead her out to the dance-floor. “What about yourself? Hot date tonight, Anya?” Sam asks, turning the conversation back on her, though he knows he’ll relent pretty soon if she pushes it.

“ i don’t think she’ll be very happy, no. but she’ll probably try to switch rows entirely. ”

Stella couldn’t agree more which feels visceral, a tickle in the pit of her gut, since she didn’t think it was possible to feel any closer to Anya. “Me too.” Her smile is more shy, disappearing into her thoughts for a moment and letting Anya’s face blur out till all she can appreciate is the outline of her hair and the soft, comforting harmony of her voice. Stella nods, Anya’s face coming back into focus when Stella returns to the conversation, feeling comforted by their mutual uncertainty, and more so by the utter certainty she has in Anya that balances everything else out. Stella’s head tilts at the last bit, because contrary to what Anya believes, Stella finds it surprising people haven’t flocked to her and wonders if Anya is just very keen on turning people down. She would understand, she can’t imagine anyone particularly worthy. She smiles not to show too much confusion, giggling. “We’re better off without any stupid boys.” She jokes, dropping her arms from around her legs to lean to the side on one, head tilting to her shoulder. “Let’s go together.” She means to suggest, but it comes out more like a certainty. “I’ll have more fun with you than anyone else, anyway.” She can think of few better ways to end the semester. 

       MAYBE ANYA HAS THE MOST OPTIONS OF ALL THE CASIRAGHI SIBLINGS, with nico pigeonholing himself to the family business, and cecilia only able to go as far as her savings will take her. she’s glad out of everyone in the family, it is her older sister who shows promise, though she’s not very surprised about it. it’s funny how six months ago cecilia never would’ve thought they’d get to where they are now, a relationship that almost resembles one of sisters.   “ do you think you want to go back to italy, after everything ? ”   she asks, curious to hear if she’s more open to a new location than nico is. anya’s question makes her smirk, shaking her head.   “ all i had to do was tell him i went to london for my art, and he was disappointed enough. i didn’t want to rub salt in the wound. ”   and maybe she liked the idea of nico thinking she was more successful than she had been. 

“  i’d  say  otherwise,  ”  charlie  counters,  because  having  read  her  writing  for  so  many  years,  he  thinks  that’s  far  from  the  truth.  it’s  true  that  he  doesn’t  read  enough  literature  to  know,  but  even  in  the  carefree  form  of  journal  entry  letters  to  a  close  friend,  he  reckons  she’s  always  been  good  with  words.  she  knows  how  to  paint  a  picture  that’s  hundreds  of  miles  away  ;  she  knows  how  to  make  him  feel  something.  granted,  charlie  prefers  tangents  and  rambling,  but  he  doesn’t  think  it  makes  a  difference.  “  i  can’t  blame  her,  but  i  dunno  …  surely  people  can’t  be  angry  with  her  forever.  ”  it  could  be  wishful  thinking,  and  maybe  charlie’s  alone  in  the  way  he  believes  in  people.  but  even  despite  never  being  close  with  cecilia,  he  can’t  imagine  her  intentions  were  ever  evil.  and  charlie’s  all  too  well  acquainted  with  the  grey  area  between  good  and  bad  to  try  to  place  anyone  in  either  category.  on  the  subject  on  his  own  brother,  he  tilts  his  head  in  mocking  thought,  “  it’s  a  little  funny.  ”  but  he  doesn’t  expect  anya  to  understand.  they  don’t  often  get  into  the  business  of  discussing  tommy’s  love  life.  it’s  better  that  way,  given  anya’s  allegiance  to  stella.  as  her  cheeks  turn  rosy,  her  head  hangs,  and  charlie  suddenly  feels  terrible  for  proposing  the  idea  of  traveling  in  the  first  place  —  if  only  for  the  way  it  appears  to  make  her  feel.  but  the  boy’s  no  stranger  to  financial  struggle,  even  if  not  to  the  casiraghi’s  caliber,  and  he  didn’t  bring  it  up  to  make  her  feel  ashamed,  or  let  down.  “  anya,  please  don’t  say  you’re  sorry,  ”  he  starts,  a  hand  moving  to  lift  her  head  up  by  the  chin  so  they’re  looking  at  each  other  again.  seeing  the  blue  of  her  eyes  makes  things  better.  “  i  don’t  mean  to  overstep  or  sound  rude,  but  i  wasn’t  asking  you  to  pay  …  i  invited  you,  and  i  wouldn’t  want  you  to  feel  bad  about  that.  you’ve  done  so  much  for  me  this  year.  it’s  honestly  the  least  i  could  do.  ”  he’s  so  earnest,  his  eyes  glitter,  and  he  doesn’t  drop  her  stare  the  entire  time.  the  whole  situation’s  some  degree  of  comical,  because  while  anya’s  embarrassed,  it’s  charlie  who  feels  like  she’d  be  doing  him  a  favor  by  saying  yes,  providing  him  with  a  distraction  and  a  means  for  comfort  at  a  time  when  he  knows  he’ll  miss  her  most.  but  he’s  got  enough  in  his  savings  to  afford  traveling,  and  he’s  shockingly  good  at  managing  his  money,  even  with  the  drinking  problem.  he  doesn’t  mention  that  his  dads  would  likely  help  him,  either,  for  he  doesn’t  want  to  push  it.  pride  isn’t  a  familiar  term  between  the  two  of  them,  and  charlie  doesn’t  want  it  to  be.  “  but  it’s  up  to  you.  just  know  the  offer’s  there,  if  you  want  it.  ”

the  song  turns,  but  charlie  doesn’t  try  to  move  away,  either.  he  stays  paused  with  anya,  one  hand  still  cradling  her  back,  and  the  other  laced  with  the  girl’s  manicured  fingers.  a  beat  passes  just  like  that  —  his  eyes  stuck  on  the  upturned  corners  of  her  smile,  and  it’s  only  natural  to  blink  into  light  laughter  at  the  thought  of  his  dancing.  “  i  always  wanted  to  try  that,  ”  charlie  says  daintily,  the  apples  of  his  cheeks  blushing  red.  he’d  learned  a  little,  through  gallagher’s  dancing  lessons  last  winter  …  but  it  was  different.  he  was  clumsy  and  so  unsure  of  himself.  he  felt  guilty  with  amanda,  being  her  date  when  she  had  no  idea  what  she  was  getting  herself  into  with  him.  but  anya  knows,  and  she  loves  him  anyway,  and  it’s  truly  a  feeling  he  never  thought  he’d  know.  if  charlie  makes  anya  feel  confident  for  knowing  he’s  all  hers,  anya  makes  him  feel  that  way  just  by  how  she’s  accepted  him.  though  he’s  beaming  amidst  his  giddiness,  he  doesn’t  feel  foolish.  he  feels  lighter,  in  a  new  way.  it’s  something  he  hasn’t  quite  felt  before,  and  for  the  first  time  that  entire  night,  he  isn’t  dreading  the  end  of  it.  he  isn’t  even  thinking  about  tomorrow.  charlie’s  here,  with  anya,  and  he  thinks  this  might  be  the  sort  of  happiness  that  people  chase  …  the  happiness  that  reminds  him  why  he  wants  to  get  better  in  the  first  place.

– "WELL..." ANYA TRAILS OFF FOR A MOMENT, and maybe if she had proper sense she'd have more shame about the rambling pages of writing she'd sent to charlie in her early teenage years, something about a crush or frustrations with her parents and siblings, a horrible dance practice, or the cutest things her cat does ( ranked. ) but she doesn't have proper sense at all, and there's no shame when she looks up at him, the memory of running to the mail slot in her eyes, " you're a bit biased, i'd say. " anya was always writing for him, anyway. she nods her agreement, " i think so too, but...well, you know cecilia, " she smiles softly, " or, at least you know what i think of her. she's always been stubborn. i'm just going to take whatever i can get at this point. "  anya also doesn't think her sister ever had bad intentions, she can remember the look on her sister's face when the book came out – she'd been the FIRST person to check on her, a stark contrast from the teenager that ran away all of those years ago. she furrows her brow, puzzled at charlie's reply, but she's not in on the joke. maybe she just feels too much loyalty to stella to laugh, or she doesn't know tommy well enough to piece together the particular humor. she'll take his word for it, though ! anya doesn't think she's ever felt so speechless as when charlie lifts her head up, in a moment where she feels so vulnerable, so ashamed that she can't even look at him...he actually reaches out for her gaze, telling her that it's okay with so little words. she's comforted by the softness in his gaze, the warmth that she didn't know was possible to exude from eyes so blue, and a gentle, almost bashful smile lifts the corners of her lips. " i just...it's new to me, i guess. it's never a problem i've had before, so...i just don't want it to be another way that i'm a burden on people, " she admits, " and i don't want you to feel like you owe me anything either. anything i did, that was just because we're friends and i care about you. " the look on his face implies that he's doing the same, and she wishes there weren't tears pricking in the corners of her eyes because that's embarrassing – it's just hard not to think of her financial situation, her once awe-inspiring mother who walked the halls in expensive designers sitting behind a cell in a jumpsuit. more than anything, she wants what charlie is offering : an escape. " of course i want it, " she laughs weakly, " don't be silly. "