Celine   lifted   a   hand   to   cover   the   abrupt   laugh   escaped   her 

The   way   Charlie   lit   up   when   he   talked   about   his   time   in   Denmark,   the   way   he   described   her   people   with   a   kind   of   reverence   had   her   feeling   like   something   warm   curled   up   in   her   chest.   She   hadn’t   expected   the   way   he   said it’s   a   date   with   such   ease   it   had   her   heart   tripping   up   a   little.   She   liked   listening   to   him   talk   –   his   words   earnest   and   unfiltered   –   about   his   passion   for   cooking,   for   growth,   about   his   mum.   There   was   a   quiet   sort   of   intensity   to   him   that   drew   her   in.   She   hadn’t   realized   how   close   they   were   until   her   skin   touched   his,   and   her   eyes   widened   though   she   didn’t   pull   away   when   Charlie   focused   his   gaze   on   her   and   placed   his   hand   over   her   own.   Then   he   said   the   words   –  Would   you   wanna   let   me   take   you   out   sometime?  Signe   blinked,   just   once,   as   if   double-checking   that   this   was,   in   fact,   her   life.   She   felt   the   warmth   on   her   face   before   she   recognized   that   she   was   blushing   something   awful.   Signe   let   out   a   soft,   nervous   laugh,   the   corners   of   her   mouth   tilting   up   into   a   bashful   curve.   Not   her   practiced,   polite   smile,   but   a   genuine   expression.   She   glanced   down   at   their   joined   hands,   then   back   up   at   him–suddenly   feeling   shy,   a   little   stunned,   but  definitely   interested.   Realizing   she’d   gone   quiet   for   a   beat   too   long,   Signe   cleared   her   throat   and   took   a   small   step   back,   gently   untangling   her   hands   from   his.   “I–yeah,”  she   breathed,   tucking   her   hair   behind   her   ears   just   to   give   her   hands   something   to   do.  “Yes.   Please.   I’d   really   like   that.”   But,   of   course,   the   words   didn’t   stop   there.  “There’s   a   bonfire   party   coming   up–we   could   go   together?   Or,   I   mean,   you   asked   me   out,   so   obviously   you   should   decide.   Wait,   I   didn’t   mean   to   hijack   your   plan.   You   know   what?   Forget   I   said   anything,”   Her   face   remained   flushed,   but   there   was   a   hint   of   amusement   flickering   in   her   eyes.  “I’m   terrible   at   this,   clearly.”

“My specialty? Alright then.” Charlie’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. “It’s a date.” His eyes lit up when she mentioned her summers in Denmark, and the warmth in his tone deepened. “You lot are somethin’ else. I’ve never had to be so precise in my life, Signe. Everythin’ had to be exact. And they’re dead talented, yeah? Scarily good. I’ve never been so nervous to mess up. But they were all so kind about it, which made it worse somehow. Like… it felt less like I’d be lettin’ them down and more like I’d be lettin’ myself down. That’s how they get you.” He laughed lightly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “They build you up without sayin’ much at all. It’s clever. Makes you want to be better.”

Charlie hadn’t meant to say so much. He rarely did. Usually, he kept it simple, “I’ve always loved food” or “some of my favorite memories are in the kitchen with my mum". They were easy, safe versions of the truth. But Signe made it feel different. The way she listened. The way she looked at him like she already saw the rest of the story. And then she stopped him.

Her hand wrapped gently around his forearm, and the warmth of her skin against his pulled him back into the moment. His breath caught before he even realized it had left him. His eyes flicked down to where she held him, then back up to hers own, steady and unwavering. “I’m glad I found my way here too.” His voice came out quieter now, stripped of performance. Just truth. 'You were healing'. Somehow it was exactly what he needed to hear.

He huffed out a breath, half a laugh, half a release, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and admiration. “You don’t even know the full story,” he murmured, “and I think you still nailed it.” Without thinking, or maybe thinking too much, he shifted, sliding his hand down to hers, curling his fingers gently around it. “Signe.. Would you wanna let me take you out sometime? A proper date. I mean, I’ll cook for you whenever you want, but I’d like to take you out too. Just us. Somewhere we’re not talkin’ shop.” He searched her expression, his smile crooked and sincere. “Only if you’re interested. No pressure. I just… I’d like to get to know you. Outside of all this.”

She   rolled   her   eyes   as   he   teased   her   saying   she   already   knew   he   was   rude.    The   butterflies   in   her   stomach   were   not   deterred   by   his   cocky   attitude   in   the   slightest.   It   would   have   to   be   studied,   she   thought,   the   way   he   managed   to   draw   her   in   even   when   he   was   being   insufferable.   She   managed   to   select   a   bottle   even   as   they   exchanged   charged   glances   from   across   the   room.   Charlie   pointed   her   in   the   direction   of   the   bottle   opener   and   glasses   and   she   was   already   moving   towards   the   drawer.   She   located   the   bottle   opener   with   relative   ease   and   then   reached   for   the   cupboard   with   the   glasses.   Signe’s   eyes   found   their   way   back   to   Charlie   as   he   shook   the   pan   of   veggies,   noting   the   way   his   muscles   flexed.   Oh,   he   was  totally   showboating,   but   she   couldn’t   find   it   in   herself   to   be   annoyed   by   it.   Just   secretly   pleased   that   he   was   doing   it   for  her.   She   turned   her   head   to   once   again   focus   on   the   task   at   hand   when   she   felt   him   come   up   behind   her.  Signe   stood   still   for   a   moment   longer   than   necessary,   her   pulse   quickening   as   his   arms   wrapped   around   her   so   casually   like   it   was   the   most   natural   thing   in   the   world.   She   leaned   back   into   his   embrace   as   he   rested   his   chin   on   her   shoulder.   It   unsettled   her   in   a   way   that   she   didn’t   hate.   Not   even   a   little.   Her   fingers   tightened   just   lightly   around   the   bottle   in   her   hand   as   he   spoke   softly   into   her   ear.   She   bit   on   her   lip   to   fight   the   smile   that   so   desperately   wanted   to   break   onto   her   face,   but   she   didn’t   turn   to   face   him   yet. “You’re   very   excited   about   these   playlists,”   she   said   lightly,   voice   teasing,   but   softer   underneath.   Her   fingers   moving   on   instinct   to   open   the   wine   she’d   picked   out,   needing   the   action   to   steady   her.  He   pressed   a   barely   there   kiss   to   her   shoulder   and   that   is   when   Signe   turned   her   head   to   look   at   him.   She   could   still   feel   the   imprint   of   his   touch   on   her   waist   even   after   he’d   stepped   back. “We’ll   just   have   to   put   them   in   the   same   order.   To   make   sure   we   know   what   song   was   for   which   category,”   she   breathed,   turning   her   head   to   finish   pouring   each   of   them   a   glass.   She   grabbed   one   and   offered   it   to   him,   eyes   finally   meeting   his   again.   This   – them   –   they   felt   good.   It   felt   easy   in   that   impossible,   rare   way,   but   easy   didn’t   always   mean   lasting.   And   that   scared   her.   The   idea   of   falling   too   hard,   too   fast   and   then   being   burned   because   she’s   was   impulsive.   “One   glass   of   wine,   then   one   playlist.   Do   you   want   to   do   the   honors   of   going   first?”   she   asked,   tilting   her   head.   She   smiled,   a   bit   coyly. “But   if   I   cry,   I’m   blaming  you   and   not   the   moscato.”

Charlie chuckled, the sound low and unguarded as she bumped his hip. Her voice saying his name like that, dragging it out, playful and knowing was almost too much. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his grin from going smug. "I knew you were trouble the second you said my name like it meant something," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"I'm certain you already know that I'm rude." He laughed, biting down on his lip as she scolded him. He tried to hide the fact that his knees were a little unsteady, that her tone and smile had gone straight to the center of him. But Charlie Hughes had spent years perfecting composure. On the pitch, in the kitchen, through more nights out than he cared to count. So he just rolled his shoulders back, smirked like it was no big deal, and returned to chopping like he wasn’t completely undone by her in his gaff, in that dress, with that mouth. When she moved toward the wine fridge, he watched from the corner of his eye. How she moved, the way her fingers hovered over the bottles. Then her gaze flicked up and met his. For a moment, neither of them looked away. Not until she ducked her head with that little smile that killed him every single time. He exhaled through a grin, shaking his head to himself as he turned back to the cutting board.

But he felt her watching. The weight of her gaze trailed over him like it had hands of its own, across his shoulders, down his arms. It was the same sensation he used to get before a goal, just before the crowd would roar. Electric. Measured. Certain. He smirked, a cockiness flaring up in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Not since he'd been on the pitch, scouters in the stands watching him dart from side to side, easily maneuvering around defenders, kicking the ball in like it were a choreographed routine. He was in his element then, and he was starting to believe he was in his element with her. And for a moment, it wasn’t about nerves or hope or even romance. It was about that deep, thudding instinct that said you belong here.

He glanced at the label she’d chosen before nodding toward the counter. "Bottle opener’s top drawer, left of the sink. Glasses are all the way over.. yeah, there," he said, gesturing vaguely with the knife before swapping it out for a baking sheet. He spread the vegetables with ease, drizzling olive oil and tossing them with his hands. If his biceps flexed a little as he shook the pan, well, that wasn’t entirely on purpose. Probably. Once the tray slid into the oven and he’d wiped his hands on the towel, Charlie crossed the kitchen, stepping behind her with no urgency, just presence. His arms found their place around her waist like they belonged there. He tucked his chin briefly over her shoulder and let his voice drop low against the curve of her neck.

"Shall we get those playlists goin’, then?" he asked, casual as ever, like his heart wasn’t racing. Then softer, more sincere, "Also wouldn’t mind just sittin’ next to you while it plays. Don’t even need to talk. Just… y’know. Be." He let his lips brush the edge of her shoulder, barely there, before pulling back, hands sliding off her waist slow and easy, like he really didn't want to let go. "Wine first, though," he said, clearing his throat, "Can’t have emotional vulnerability without a good glass of moscato."

Ophelia's   lips   lifted   into   an   understanding   smile.   There   was   a   familiar   look   in   the   girl's   eyes   --   one   that   she   would   recognize   from   a   million   miles   away.   That   quiet   kind   of   ache   that   came   from   longing   for   something   you   used   to   love.   She   remembered   when   she'd   first   arrived   in   Palmview   and   how   she's   been   unable   to   even   look   at   her   guitar   for   months.   "Don't   worry   about   it,"   she   said   gently,   waving   off   the   apology.   "Yeah,   I   sing.   Write   too.   Mostly   sad   girl   stuff,"   she   added   with   a   laugh.   "And   trust   me,   I   get   it.   Moving   can   throw   everything   off.   I   was   the   same   when   I   first   moved   here."   Lia   paused   for   a   beat,   tilting   her   head   as   she   studied   the   girl.   "But   you're   still   writing.   That's   good!   Sometimes   just   showing   up   to   the   page   is   enough."   She   bit   her   lip,   hesitating   before   deciding   to   add,   “What   kind   of   music   do   you   write?”

blair  hadn't  really  done  much  singing  in  sometime  now.  she'd  kind  of  forgotten  about  it.  moving  here  in  the  first  place  had  been  keeping  her  busy  enough  as  well  as  her  job,  trying  to  get  used  to  things  around  here  and  managing  some  other  tasks.  it  had  seemed  like  she  almost  barely  had  the  time  in  her  schedule  to  do  any  of  this.  the  blonde  glanced  down  at  the  guitar  ...  a  simple  reminder  of  her  past  and  what  it  probably  would've  been  like  if  she  got  back  into  it  and  started  it  up  again.  "  sorry...  didn't  mean  to  stare.  "  not  realizing  that  she  had  been  daydreaming  for  a  second  before  looking  up  at  the  other.  "  you're  a  singer?  "  she  automatically  assumed  from  seeing  the  guitar.  "  i  was  one  for  a  little  while..  or  should  i  say  starting  to  be  one.  kind  of  stopped  for  a  bit  when  i  moved  here  not  long  ago.  i  have  been  writing  a  bit  but  nothing  that  i  feel  good  about  putting  out  yet.  "  she  just  realized  that  she  had  been  rambling  to  someone  she  hadn't  even  met  until  now.  "  and  i'm  rambling  ─  sorry  it's  become  a  bit  of  a  habit  of  mine.  "

[ Hours later after the date ] SIGNE: oh my god 😳 SIGNE: Were you creeping on me?? SIGNE: I... /maybe/ ... had a date. 👀 It was all very sudden honestly SIGNE: His name is Charlie

Unread Messages ✉️ Signe 🎀💕🌸 ~ @ofresoluxe ~

Adriana: UMMM HELLO?!? Adriana: Excuse me, Miss Ma'am! Adriana: Are we just out here having the CUTEST little picnic date like it's straight out of a rom-com?!??! Adriana: Here I am all by my lonesome, dancing away to some frankly painful karaoke singers when I spot what couldn't POSSIBLY be my best friend out living her best life 😳 I nearly dropped my malibu sunrise! Adriana: Absolutely unacceptable that I wasn't briefed prior to this. I expect a full report on my desk PRONTO, Missy. Adriana: But well done 😘

Signe’s   smile   answered   Charlie’s   grin   easily.   “Of   course   you’d   find   a   way   to   wear   it   like   a   badge   of   honor,”   she   teased,   very   aware   of   his   hand   at   her   back,   tracing.   She   had   no   doubt   that   Charlie   would   achieve   everything   he   set   out   to   do.   He   seemed   stubborn   enough.    She   shook   her   head   with   a   mock   look   of   exasperation.   “   And   somehow,   you’ll   manage   to   get   away   with   it,   I’m   sure,”   she   murmured   dryly. 

 His   voice   softened   and   his   gaze   searched   hers,   a   gentle   question   in   his.   A   reminder   that   he   would   be   a   safe   space,   no   matter   what   she   told   him.   She   hadn’t   expected   him   to   say   any   of   that.   The   part   about   him   not   being   easily   scared   off.   He   said   it   so   self-assuredly   that   Signe   knew   she   had   no   choice   but   to   believe   his   words   too.   Her   eyes   met   his,   and   nodded,   almost   shyly.   “I   do   relate   to   it,   yeah,”   she   admitted.    “I   realized   I   was   pansexual   –   that   there   was   a   word   for   what   I   was   –   probably   just   before   I   moved   here,   which   as   you   can   imagine,   was   a   tough   enough   transition   as   it   was.”   Signe   paused   as   they   swayed   to   the   beat   of   their   own   sound.   “It’s   just   people.   Connecting   with   their   heart,   understanding   another   soul   like   that.”

 It   meant   so   much   to   her   that   he’d   been   vulnerable   enough   to   share   that   with   her.   To   give   voice   to   feelings,   to   an   identity   that   he’d   never   named   or   claimed   before.   She   let   her   head   rest   back   against   his   chest,   laughter   escaping   her   as   he   confessed   to   the   Godfather   being   his   favorite   movie.   “You   must’ve   been   an   absolute   menace.   I   can   picture   it   –   little   you   storming   through   the   house   like   a   pint-sized   Don   Corleone,”   she   giggled. 

 His   touch   moved   to   the   back   of   her   head   and   felt   impossibly   gentle.   His   voice   was   warm   when   he   talked   about   her   studio   idea,   and   for   a   moment   Signe   just   closed   her   eyes   and   let   herself   exist   in   the   moment.   The   praise   for   her   vision   (   and   the   comparison   to   her   mother   )   had   her   burying   a   smile   in   Charlie’s   chest,   pride   flaring.   “I   understand,”   she   said   as   he   answered   her   question   and    he   envisioned   his   future   as   a   chef   looked   like.   And   then   he   spun   her.   The   world   tipped   and   she   shrieked   out   a   laugh   as   she   held   on   to   him   tighter,   focused   on   not   tripping   over   her   own   feed.   The   brush   of   lips   to   her   ear   had   everything   her   going   still   and   her   mind   quiet.   His   whispered   question   for   her   told   her   that   he   truly   wanted   the   answer. 

 Signe’s   breath   caught   ,   her   body   stilling   even   as   her   heart   raced.   She   didn’t   speak   right   away,   taking   some   type   to   truly   think   over   the   question.   Her   teeth   found   her   bottom   lip   and   then   she   spoke   softly,   “Sometimes   I   wish   someone   would   ask   what   I’m   still   afraid   of.” 

Charlie’s grin deepened as she called him insufferable, though the warmth in her tone gave her away. "I find that hard to believe. You don't seem to be sufferin' yet." Charlie smirked as Signe bumped their noses, continuing to prove to him that whatever was happening here was very much mutual. He hummed to himself in content, looking down at her. "You say that like it’s not the greatest compliment," he mused, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of her waist. "I’m committed to being the most charmingly unbearable man you’ve ever met."

He softened, both in expression and in tone, letting her words settle before speaking. "You relate to it all, then?" he asked gently, cautious not to push but wanting her to know he was listening. "I mean… you don’t ever have to explain anythin’ to me you’re not ready to," he added. “But I want you to know there’s not a single part of you that would scare me off. Promise.” He hesitated, "I didn't wanna assume or anythin'.." He paused again, longer this time, "I'm-.. I also.. I haven't really said it out loud ever, but I guess simply puttin' it, I like whoever. I don’t really care who someone is, you know? Not big on labels, but I like who I like. Always have." He chuckled softly, pushing down the hidden layers underneath. He'd done too much work to be more open and he just wanted to assure her that she was safe with him, that he understood. "It's all about the person.. the connection."

When she asked about his favorite movie, his smile flickered into something more boyish. "The Godfather," he said without missing a beat. "I honestly didn't start actually watchin' movies until I was older. My mum would leave the telly on and have her romance movies playin', but with trainin' and school I never really had time to sit down and watch stuff. But The Godfather.. My granddad made me watch it when I were like.. ten? Thought it’d toughen me up or somethin’. Instead, I wouldn’t shut up about it. I loved it, wouldn't stop walkin; around the house, quotin' Corleone, 'you come to me on the day of my daughter's weddin?' Mum was proper pissed at granddad." His laughter was warm and full, his head tilting as he looked down at her tucked against him, her cheek on his chest.

Charlie brought a hand up to the back of Signe's head, brushing over her hair softly while the other hand stayed on her back. He listened with real attention as she described her dream studio, it felt so perfectly her. "That sounds really nice. A space to create as well instead of just a retail store or anythin'.. passin' on the love of art to younger people, just like your mum. Says a lot about the both of ya."

He shrugged, "With no limits or restrictions, yeah, I'd love to have me own restaurant.. Somewhere small and personal. But in real talk? Not a chance in hell." Charlie laughed, "I’ve worked with enough owners to know I’d lose my mind in six months. The time, the money, the paperwork. Nah. I mean, I put my all into work, anyone who works with me can't deny it, whether they like me or not. I'm in early and out late, but to run a place.." Then, just to keep her on her toes, he took her hand and spun her, a wicked grin tugging at his mouth as he caught her again on the other side, "Next question!"

He leaned in, the words almost a whisper, lips brushing beside her ear. "What’s something you’ve never told anyone, but wish someone would ask?" He leaned back just enough to meet her gaze, the teasing fading slightly. "You don’t have to answer. But I’d really like to know."

⇢ 🌸 STATUS ﹕ closed. ⇢ 🌸 TAGGING ﹕signe + sigrid!! (@ofelation) ⇢ 🌸 LOCATION ﹕ palmview university.

Signe   made   her   way   up   the   familiar   staircase   of   the   humanities   building   with   a   to-go   iced   coffee   in   one   hand   and   a   wax   paper   bag   in   the   other   containing   a   cinnamon   bun.   A   peace   offering,   if   she   was   being   honest   with   herself.   Signe   didn't   visit   her   mother's   office   often,   not   because   she   didn't   love   visiting   her   mom,   but   because   Sigrid   Holmström   was   a   consummate   professional.   The   girl   had   always   felt   guilty   about   disrupting   her   mother's   crisp,   orderly   and   polished   world   at   the   university.   Switching   the   coffee   to   her   other   hand,   she   knocked   twice   on   the   office   door   before   opening   it   without   waiting   for   a   reply.   “Professor   Holmström,”   Signe   began,   her   voice   full   of   playful   formality.   “I   come   bearing   caffeine   and   carbs.   And   maybe   a   bit   of   daughterly   guilt.   You   free   for   a   little   break?”

Signe   laughed   quietly,   a   bit   sheepish   as   she   observed   the   skill   with   which   the   woman   tied   off   the   knot   of   her   bracelet. “I   can definitely   tell.   You   make   it   look   so   effortless,”   she   said,   almost   wistfully.   The   bracelet   the   girl   had   made   was   bright,   clean   and   perfectly   knotted. “I’m   pretty   sure   mine   tried   to   strangle   itself   halfway   through,”   she   muttered   dryly   as   she   watched   the   woman’s   thumbs   go   to   work   on   the   tangled   mess   she   made. “I’m   great   with   a   sewing   needle,   but   apparently   string   is   where   my   creativity   draws   the   line.”

a  piece  of  thread  between  her  teeth  keeps  adhira  from  responding  right  away,  edges  of  her  lips  curving  upward  as  she  looks  over  at  the  other's  work  in  progress.  as  the  last  bead  is  threaded  onto  her  string,  she  carefully  takes  it  from  between  her  teeth,  tying  a  knot  and  then  doubling  it  before  really  assessing  the  situation  in  front  of  her.  “trust  me,  it  took  me  a  lot  of  practice  to  get  this  good,”  her  own  bracelet  slid  across  the  table  in  offering  and  traded  for  the  tangle  of  string.  thumb  nails  get  to  work  almost  immediately,  looking  for  the  end  of  the  mess  to  unravel.  “but,  don't  worry.  i'm  somewhat  of  a  magician  when  it  comes  to  jewelry  making,  you're  in  good  hands.”

⇢ 🌸 STATUS ﹕ closed. ⇢ 🌸 TAGGING ﹕signe + @amadoures !! ( mila ) ⇢ 🌸 DETAILS. ﹕ signe is out shopping at retro roots when she takes note of an exquisitely dressed stranger and can't help herself.

Signe   wasn't   in   the   habit   of   approaching   strangers   --   especially   not   ones   that   looked   like   they   belonged   on   a   magazine   cover.   She'd   been   cataloguing   their   outfit   passively   when   the   stitching   of   the   stranger's   jacket   caught   her   eye.   The   cut   of   the   garment   overall   was   just   insanely   cool.   Clean   stitching,   interesting   shape   and   movement.   The   other   girl   just   looked   well   put   together   from   head-to-toe. She   cleared   her   throat   slightly,   voice   soft   as   she   stepped   closer   to   the   other.   "Sorry   to   bother   you,   but   I   have   to   know...where   did   you   get   your   jacket   from?"   Signe   offered   the   stranger   a   sheepish   smile.   "I   design   stuff,   and   your   jacket   is   just   wicked." After   a   beat,   she   tugged   at   the   hem   of   her   oversized   cardigan.   "I   promise   that   wasn't   meant   to   be   weird.   You   just   have   really   great   taste."

Havana Rose Liu 🤍