⇢ ✨ STATUS ﹕ Closed. ⇢ ✨ TAGGING ﹕celine + Jack !! (@anchorsfm ) ⇢ ✨ LOCATION ﹕outside

⇢ 🎸 STATUS ﹕ open. ( 1/6 ) ⇢ 🎸 TAGGING ﹕ophelia + utp !! ( @palmviewstarters ) ⇢ 🎸 LOCATION ﹕ mango bay art district.

Ophelia   sat   on   a   folding   stool   across   the   street   from   the   Arts   District   gallery.   Her   guitar   case   lay   open   at   her   feed,   half-filled   with   crumpled   bills   and   loose   change.   Her   voice   curled   into   the   air   of   the   late   afternoon,   low   and   a   bit   rough   –   like   she'd   just   woken   up.   Her   vintage   acoustic   was   resting   against   one   knee   as   her   fingers   danced   over   the   strings.   Her   eyes   absent-mindedly   scanned   the   passerby   crowd,   and   her   playing   as   she   noticed   someone   watching.   Ophelia   stilled   her   strings   and   smirked,   “Careful,”   she   began,   a   teasing   lilt   to   her   tone.   “If   you   stare   too   long,   I'm   going   to   assume   you're   planning   to   request   something.”

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   offered   him   a   secret   smile,   one   that   highlighted   just   how   much   she   enjoyed   their   little   back   and   forth,   like   they   were   the   only   two   who   understood   the   true   meaning   behind   their   words.   A   pleased   flush   was   on   her   cheeks   when   his   lips   brushed   against   them,   the   blush   something   that   was   becoming   a   semi-permanent   trait   in   his   presence.  “Oh,   you   can’t   stop   thinking   about   me?”  Her   hand   came   up   to   his   chest,   her   fingers   trailing   along   the   frankly   disrespectful   display   of   bare   skin   before   lifting   her   gaze   to   his.  “For   the   record,   I   mildly   enjoy   your   company   the  most   when   you’re   making   declarations   like   that.”  With   that   stupid   pretty   mouth   was   the   part   she   left   unsaid.   A   beat   passed   and   then   she   added,   softer.  “But   you’re   right.   I   like   having   you   around…   like   who   I   am   around   you.”   Her   hand   traced   up   his   collarbone   and   then   she   brushed   her   thumb   along   the   edge   of   his   jaw.  “I   don’t   care   who   you   used   to   be,   Charlie.   I   care   about   who   you   choose   to   be   now.   I   know   we   pretty   much   just   met,   but   this   version   of   you?   He’s   a   good   man,”   Signe   leaned   in,   kissing   the   corner   of   his   mouth   with   quiet   intention.  “And   from   the   little   I   know,   even   back   then,   you   had   this   heart   underneath   it   all.   Even   if   you   were   to   slip,   you’d   find   your   way   back.”  She   looked   into   his   eyes,   making   sure   he   saw   how   much   she   believed   the   words   she   was   saying.   She   smiled   and   reached   into   the   pocket   of   her   dress,   pulling   out   her   phone.   “Come   on,   let’s   take   a   selfie.   I   want   to   remember   our   first   date,”   she   said,   whirling   around   and   leaning   back   into   him.   She   snapped   a   few   photos   quickly,   trying   to   catch   him   off-guard   in   a   few   before   he   posed   with   her.   Signe   giggled,   glancing   at   the   photos   on   her   phone.   She   looked   over   her   shoulder   and   smirked,   mischief   sparking   in   her   eyes.  “Want   to   take   a   really   unhinged   one?”

Charlie arched a brow, the cocky edge to his grin settling in as he stepped closer, just enough for her to feel his presence. He raised his eyebrows, leveling his eyes to hers, "You only mildly enjoy my company under very specific circumstances… got it," he said, drawing the words out with playful mock offense. He tilted his head, eyes glittering with teasing challenge as he slowly licked his lips, then dipped his head. "I think," he murmured low near her ear, "you’re tryin’ to keep me around more than you’re lettin’ on." He didn’t move far after that, gaze softening slightly as he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes.

"I get what you mean. Maybe that’s what I am too.. I’ve always chased connection, maybe attention, if we’re bein’ honest. I just liked bein’ around people. Didn’t matter who, really." He paused. "I might feel a bit different now, though... Can’t stop thinkin’ about you." His lips brushed just barely against her cheek, gentle and intentional.

His voice dipped again, quieter this time, the smile faltering only slightly. "My mum never expected much from me.. she just wanted me happy. It was everyone else. Coaches, mates, teachers… my father.. they saw potential and pushed it hard. I was good, so it made sense." He shrugged, the motion small but rigid at the edges. "And then it was.. well I had to change plans. Just like that." His injury may have been nearly a decade prior, but it hadn't hurt him any less.

Charlie’s eyes dropped for a moment, thumb brushing lightly along her arm aimlessly, grounding himself as much as her. "I think what scares me most is slippin’ back into who I used to be.. The kid with a mile hight wall, always deflectin’ with a joke.. Or worse, turnin’ into the men I was raised around." He looked down at her, thoughtfully, "I don't wanna be the man I was.. I really like what I have now, and I don't intend on screwin' this up." He looked back up at her then, the smile returning, smaller but more real. "And I’m not gonna, Signe. Not with you. I'm not goin' anywhere and I mean that. You're not gonna scare me away."

She   snorted   at   the   question   while   she   handed   over   the   mess   of   string   into   Enzo’s   waiting   hand.  “Well,   I   was  trying   to   make   a   diamond   friendship   bracelet   pattern,”  Signe   gestured   to   the   pattern   she’d   been   attempting   to   follow.    “Clearly,   my   talents   lay   elsewhere.”  There   was   no   sting   in   her   voice,   only   amusement.   Her   eyes   flickered   down   at   the   beaded   bracelet   that   was   also   before   him   and   smiled.  “Maisie’s   is   definitely   better   than   mine.   She’s   clearly   the   true   artist   here.”

Enzo had been asked to join the Chief of Plastic Surgery's daughter at the friendship bracelet table. She had taken a liking to him from the moment he arrived at her third birthday party and brought her a life-size doll imported from Italy. Since then, Enzo and Maisie have been inseparable for the past three years. As she showed him the sparkly beads to add to their bracelet, the woman beside him displayed their failed attempt. "Well, not everything is a loss. No pun intended," he said, gesturing for her to hand him the knotted string. "What were you trying to do here?"

Signe   Holmström   had   always   been   someone   who   carefully   thought   and   planned   through   everything.   Not   that   she   was   disingenuous,   but   she  wanted   people   to   like   her.   And   so,   she   made   sure   to   always   put   forward   the   best   version   of   herself   –   the   one   that   was   nice,   and   polite,   and   charming   and   never   too   much,   too   soon.   But   being   around   Charlie,   who   was   so   transparent   and   forthcoming   with   her.   It   made   it   hard   not   to   want   to   meet   him   in   the   middle   and   be   just   as   authentic   and   unfiltered.   Her   cheeks   flush   at   his   admission,   and   she   tilted   her   head,   looking   up   at   him   like   she   couldn’t   quite   believe   he   was   real. “You’re   so   dramatic,”   she   chided,   but   there   was   a   softness   in   her   voice.   Behind   her   teasing   there   was   a   quiet   kind   of   awe   in   the   way   she   studied   him.  She   let   out   an   amused   chuckle   as   he   called   himself   flawed,   raw   affection   curling   through   her   chest.   Flaws   and   all,   she   was   really   liking   him,   although   it   felt   scary   to   say   out   loud.   He   laid   out   his   future   plans   with   that   cocky,   casual   certainty   that   made   her   laugh   again,   warm   and   bright. “Not   that   I’m   doubting   your   teaching   skills,”   she   began. “But   you’ve   never   seen   me   near   a   hot   pan.   Yet   you’re   so   sure   I’ll   survive   your   cooking   lessons.”   Signe   giggled   again,   and   added   quietly: “But   I’m   still   looking   forward   to   it.”   Charlie   pressed   a   kiss   to   her   nose   and   her   breath   caught   just   a   little.   The   absolute   tenderness   of   it   all   was   what   truly   did   her   in.   She   looked   up   at   him,   eyes   flickering   between   his   and   his   mouth   for   the   briefest   second,   and   then   smiled   shyly   and   averted   her   gaze.   His   playful   accusation   that  she   was   trouble   had   her   fighting   a   smile.   It   wasn’t   fair   at   all,   how   quickly   he   had   her   guard   down. He   was   trouble   and   she   knew   it,   but   she   found   that   she   didn’t   really   care.   As   they   walked,   she   happily   accepted   the   semla,   but   narrowed   her   eyes   at   him   in   playful   suspicion. “You’re   just   trying   to   bribe   me   for   a   good   post-date   review,” she   muttered,   taking   a   bite   anyway.   As   they   walked   alongside   each   other,   Signe   finishing   the   delicious   semla   and   their   hands   finding   one   another,   she   found   herself   glancing   around   the   the   dwindling   festivities.   The   night   had   been   everything   she’d   hoped   for   and more.   She   just   hoped   that   all   the   dates   that   followed   would   be   the   same.   Signe   leaned   in   instinctively   at   his   little   shoulder   bump   and   smile.  “Okay,   fine,” she   sighed,   as   if   the   topic   was   really   taking   its   toll   on   her. “The   ambiance   was  perfect,   the   company   was   disarmingly   charming,   and   the   date   surpassed   all   expectations.” A   beat   where   she   cast   a   sideways   glance   at   him. “But   I   do   retain   the   right   to   edit   my   review   for   at   least   24   hours   after   the   date   is   done.”   She   gave   his   hand   a   squeeze   as   they   made   it   to   her   front   door,   and   then   looked   at   him   from   under   her   lashes. “Because   everyone   knows—it’s   all   in   the   way   the   night   ends   that   really   seals   the   five-star   rating.”

Charlie huffed a breath of a laugh, the kind that buzzed low in his chest and softened something in his expression as he looked at her. "Oh, I’m sayin’ it, alright. Loud and clear. You affect me, Signe Holström." He shook his head, thumb tracing small, unconscious circles through the fabric of her dress. "I’m holdin’ it together out here, but inside?" He let out a dramatic sigh, leaning in like he was telling a secret. "Total emotional devastation. I'm a goner. Done for. It’s a miracle I’m still standin’, really."

He smiled crookedly when she called him out, that spark of playful challenge catching in his eyes. “Perfect?” he echoed, shaking his head. “Nah, love. I ain't perfect at all. I’ve got flaws stacked higher than my wine rack. But I’m tryin’, swear down.. And that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?” The sound of her giggles as he scooped her up made his grin stretch wider, cheek pressed to her temple for a second, "Oi! I may not have been selfie-ready, but don’t think for a second I haven’t got our next few dates locked and loaded. I got it all planned out, Signe." He spoke, voice low, just for them, "Dinner. Movie. Me teachin’ you how not to burn garlic. You causin’ chaos in my kitchen."

Her whispered 'Yes, Chef' had his breath catching, low and rough like it had been punched right from his lungs. He murmured, shaking his head, eyes dark as they settled on hers, "You-.. are trouble, innit? You’re doin’ that on purpose.. Really tryin' to make me come undone here, ain't ya?" He smirked, "Whatever you want.. but that's for next time."

He reined himself in, the heat in his chest grounding as he looked around at the quieting party. Families packing up, the fire pit flickering low. Charlie dipped to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, the gesture far too gentle for someone who had just been threatening to fall apart entirely. "C'mon, love. Let's get you home before the chill sets in." As she helped him pack up their things, Charlie grabbed the last semla like a prize, handing it to her and then reached for her other hand as they walked along the sand. Fingers laced, warm and sure.

"You enjoy yourself tonight?" Charlie glanced over with a grin, bumping her shoulder with his. "Because now’s the part where I conduct your post-date interview. Very official stuff, you know. For quality assurance purposes... don't deny the people what they deserve, Signe."

Signe   let   out   a   small,   mortified   groan   as   she   buried   her   face   in   her   hands.   "Pappa,"   she   mumbled   through   her   fingers,   her   voice   half-scolding.   "You   can't   just   say   things   like   that   in   public.   People   can   hear   you."   She   had   never   been   ashamed   of   her   father,   even   if   he   sometimes   (often)   said   things   that   sent   her   cringing   with   embarrassments.   She   was   so   fond   of   him,   and   Signe   could   never   really   hide   the   way   her   father's   affection   disarmed   her.   There   had   been   a   time   when   her   parents   had   been   her   entire   world,   and   especially   Søren   Holmström   --   who   had   given   up   his   fast   track   to   his   dream   career   early   on   in   his   marriage   so   that   her   mother   could   finish   her   schooling.   There   had   been   many   joyous   and   silly   daddy/daughter   days   in   her   childhood,   and   that   was   a   tradition   Signe   hoped   to   continue   even   if   she'd   now   moved   out. She   stepped   up   to   the   barista   at   the   counter   and   put   in   their   orders,   paying   with   a   tap   of   her   cell   phone   and   moving   to   the   side.   "Why   don't   you   grab   us   a   seat?   I'll   be   right   over   with   our   drinks   and   your   snacks."   Signe   knew   his   leg   had   to   be   bothering   him   by   this   point   with   all   of   the   walking   they'd   done.   She   reached   out   to   rub   his   shoulder   before   pointing   him   at   the   seating   area.   "I   promise   to   only   steal   one   bite   of   your   danish."

there   had   once   been   a   time   where   søren   thought   a   life   with   signe   would   have   been   impossible.   laying   in   that   hospital   bed   twenty - five   years   ago,   pleading   in   the   arms   of   his   wife   for   her   not   to   leave   him.   he   had   seen   himself   as   broken,   watched   memories   that   hadn’t   yet   been   made   as   they   turned   to   ash.   now,   he   was   sitting   in   a   café   with   their   little   grape   all   grown   up.   time   had   flown,   but   he   was   thankful   for   it.   søren   missed   those   first   steps,   those   gooey   kisses,   those   sleepless   nights,   but   it   was   nothing   compared   to   seeing   how   brilliantly   their   girl   had   turned   out. “mm.   sounds   great,”   despite   being   a   doctor,   knowing   exactly   what   fat   and   sugar   did   to   a   person’s   insides,   søren   was   never   one   to   turn   down   a   sweet   treat.   his   mouth   parted   to   object,   but   it   quickly   turned   into   a   smile.   “in   that   case,   i’ll   have   one   of   everything ! ”   money   had   never   been   much   of   a   problem   for   the   holmströms.   søren   hoped   that   giving   signe   a   soft   pillow   of   wealth   to   fall   back   on   had   allowed   her   to   pursue   her   creative   dreams   without   worry,   without   the   fear   of   failure.   there   would   always   be   a   warm   home   to   come   back   to,   and   there   would   always   be   the   bank   of   dad   to   pilfer   in   an   emergency.   “i’ll   take   a   black   coffee   and   an   apple   danish.”   another   sly   smile.   “even   though   the   most   delicious   danish   is   standing   right   here.” 

SIGNE: Omg!! You're so embarrassing sometimes! SIGNE: I meant there aren't really any juicy details -- it was our first date! SIGNE: But pay me the hot cheetos random and I'll tell you all there is to know (:

Adriana: If “averting my eyes” means aggressively zooming in on my phone to confirm it was you two… then yes, absolutely, my eyes were definitely averted 👀

Adriana: Hot Cheetos are ALL YOURS if I get the full rundown. No holding back! I want the juicy details. The last cute romance I witnessed was literally in a tv show.

Adriana: Hot Cheetos and hot men!! I’m so happy for you, babe 😭🥰

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { CELINE ANH DONNELLY } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { SHE } is ? they kind of look like { MAGGIE Q } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 45 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 8 YEARS }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { TBA } from { TBA }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { SEAGLASS HOSPITAL } as a { HOSPITAL ADMINISTRATOR }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { THE JADED FLAME } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { GUARDED } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { RESILIENT } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { 3 BEDROOM } apartment beside me over in { OCEAN’S LANDING }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!  { KRYS. 32. SHE/HER. EST. }

𝓲. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜

name: celine anh donnelly (formerly waller) nickname(s): cel, cece, lina, b (only by jack) age: forty5 birthday: 12 august 1979 gender/pronouns: cis woman + she/her sexuality: undefined occupation: hospital administrator at seaglass hospital residence: ocean's edge ( 420 ocean dr ) time in palmview: 8 years

𝓲𝓲. 𝚝𝚕𝚍𝚛

celine was born to a vietnamese immigrant mother and an irish american father. she grew up in los angeles and always had a flare for the dramatic. she grew up with three brothers and very quickly learned how to stand up for herself. she moved to new york to pursue a dream of acting on broadway and it was in the city that she met jack wallen. the two had an unusual courting and romance but soon found themselves pregnant and quickly married. celine retired from acting and focused on getting more steady work so as to better provide for their daughter. jack found a job at the local university and moved them to palmview, florida. they built a lovely life together or so celine thought. a little over a year ago, jack came out to her and the two divorced. it was a painful, but necessary process. the two still co-parent their daughter together, sharing custody. now, at forty five, celine is left wondering what comes next.

full bio here.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

✨ brothers ✨ old friends from los angeles & nyc ✨ neighbors ✨ current crushes ✨ new flame ✨ work friends/coworkers ✨ parent friends ✨ i'm up for anything!! just DM me!

Signe   watched   him   carefully,   catching   the   tenderness   in   his   face   as   he   talked   about   his   mum.   When   he   said   he   couldn’t   wait   to   call   her,   her   smile   softened.  “That’s   really   sweet.   I’m   sure   she’ll   love   that   you   thought   of   her."   But   then   he   asked   about   her   designs,   and   she   could   practically   feel   her   walls   go   up.   Her   hand   smoothed   the   hem   of   her   shirt,   a   nervous   habit.   She   laughed—soft,   and   a   little   awkward—and   ducked   her   head,   letting   her   hair   fall   forward   to   hide   how   off-guard   his   genuine   interest   had   caught   her.   People   were   usually   politely   curious,   not… excited.  “I   mostly   do   sketches,”   she   said,   waving   her   hand   dismissively.   “I’ve   put   a   few   things   together,   but   I’m   still   building   my   portfolio.   I   haven’t   really   shown   many   people…”   Her   thumb   traced   the   strap   of   her   bag.  He’s   probably   just   being   nice.  Still,   when   she   glanced   back,   his   eyes   were   bright,   no   hint   of   teasing   in   sight.   That   steadiness   nudged   something   loose   in   her.  “…But   if   you’re   really   interested,   I   could   show   you   one   of   my   mood boards   sometime?”   she   offered,   unsure   but   hopeful.  She   found   herself   giggling   despite   herself   as   he   joked   about   football   being   an   art   form.  “I   don’t   know   that   I’m   an   authority,”   she   said,  “but   if   it   makes   people   feel   something,   I   think   an   argument   could   be   made.”   Her   eyes   shone   as   he   tried   pronouncing   her   name   –   the   words   coming   out   a   little   clumsy   but   filled   with   more   effort   than   most   made   to   get   it   as   close   to   the   authentic   pronunciation.  “I’m   not   one   to   judge   accents,”   Signe  smiled,   gesturing   at   her   herself.   Even   after   years   in   the   States,   her   Swedish   accent   still   slipped   out   sometimes.  She   allowed   him   to   tell   her   about   his   passion   for   cooking   –   about   nostalgia   and   Italy,   and   found   herself   utterly   charmed   by   his   sincerity.  “Oh,”   she   exhaled,   his   invitation   to   spend   more   time   together   catching   her   by   surprise.   Signe  blinked   rapidly   before   answering   him,   almost   shyly   and   more   quietly   than   she’d   intended.  “Yeah.   I’d   like   that.”

"You're not wrong at all. I might have to ask her if she actually likes flowers.. Besides, you know, gettin' em for Mother's Day and stuff." His face softened as she talked about the beauty and color. Charlie's mind drifted to where they'd lived when he'd grown up; all brick buildings, broken gutters and hardly a touch of color on the streets. A council estate where beauty wasn't a main priority. "You're.. Huh.. You might be spot on there. I can't wait to call me mum later and chat about it." Charlie's eyes lit up at the mention of fashion. "You jokin' me? You have to show me some of your stuff. I bet you're great at it."

"Now I'm just gonna keep askin' ya if things I enjoy are art. And if it's about how it makes me feel, football was.. I guess it still is my favorite art form?" He laughs at how corny it sounds, "I might take that back. Somethin' about an athlete sayin' they're an artist.. Nah." Charlie's laugh continues, "I cringed at meself." He waved his hands in the air in an effort to erase his words.

"Signe." He repeated, his accent thick, "I promise I'm tryin' to say it like you, but there's no gettin rid of this." Charlie pointed to his mouth with his free hand, looking down at their other hands still together. As he glanced back up, she'd been standing closer, his features all softening at their proximity. "Well, I work at Mango Bay Restaurant.. So I'm always tryin' to come up with some of those more fancy dishes." He pauses, chewing down on his bottom lip as his smile widened. He slowly released her hand, nearly forgetting it was there. "But at me apartment, it's all comfort food from back home. Or- honestly, I think I cook for the nostalgia, yeah? I miss my mates from Italy and suddenly I'm makin' homemade pasta. Goes for anywhere, innit. I just love bein' able to put myself back somewhere with just a taste. Like that guy from Ratatouille." He paused, "I ain't gotta be in for a few more hours.. If.. Would you like to walk with me? We could talk more about your fashion and you could tell me what I'm supposed to notice in all these."

Signe   hadn’t   meant   to   let   it   show.   Not   really.   Not   the   little   glances,   not   the   way   her   hand   lingered   beside   his   longer   than   necessary,   not   the   way   her   laugh   escaped   her   so   easily.   But   Charlie   was   leaning   in,   not   just   physically,   but   in   an   open,   fearless   way   that   had   something   in   her   quiet   defenses   cracking.   She   felt   the   tiny   brush   of   his   pinky   against   hers   and   she   held   her   breath.   Her   gaze   flicked   down   briefly   and   then   lifted   back   to   his.   The   breath   she   took   was   barely   audible,   but   it   felt   like   lightning   in   her   chest.  She   was   hyper   aware   of  everywhere   that   he   brushed   against   her   and   it   was   more   than   a   little   infuriating.   She   tried   to   focus   on   the   bounty   of   food   that   he   has   prepared   for   them,   but   it   didn’t   help   much.   His   exaggerated   flailing   had   her   giggling   once   more,   and   only   the   mention   of   his   fashion   disasters   had   stopped   her   laughter.   Signe   immediately   straightened,   eyes   sparkling   at   the   idea.  “I   almost   forgot!   Come,   come,   show   me!”    She   bit   her   lip   to   fight   a   smile   as   he   lamented   his   interrupting   her   creative   process.   It   was   something   she   hadn’t   considered   –   how   much   inspiration   she   gets   from   how   artists   depict   clothing   and   movement   -   and   he   had   noticed   it   without   even   trying.   Her   hand   turned   where   it   rested   next   to   his,   pinky   hooking   with   his   just   slightly.   Not   an   accident   this   time.  Her   gaze   had   been   focused   down   on   their   linked   pinkies   when   he   spoke   again.  You’re   brilliant.   Signe’s   eyes   snapped   up   to   look   at   Charlie,   eyes   wide   at   how   open   the   statement   was.   It   felt   like   it   went   beyond   simple   flirting.   She   felt   the   warmth   rising   in   her   cheeks–too   sudden,   too   real.   His   words   curled   around   her   heart,   and   ached   with   equal   parts   longing   and   fear.   And   it   wasn’t   that   she   didn’t   like   hearing   it–God,   she   did.   His   voice   was   so   earnest,   his   eyes   soft   and   open   in   a   way   that   made   it   hard   to   look   away.   But   that   was   the   thing,   wasn’t   it?   He   didn’t know   her.   Not   really.   Not   yet.  For   a   moment,   she   didn’t   speak   like   she   was   trying   to   figure   out   which   part   of   her   to   offer   him   next.   She   let   out   a   soft,   steadying   breath   and   smiled   gently.   “I   like   this   too,”   she   admitted.  “Being   around   you…you’re…”  She   fought   a   smile. “You’re   really   easy   to   like.”   Signe   was   surprised   by   how   easily   the   words   came   out,   despite   the   nerves   blooming   in   her   stomach.  “I   just…You   don’t   really   know   me   yet.   You’re   seeing   a   version   of   me   that’s–charming,   or   whatever.”  Signe   dropped   her   gaze,   feeling   vulnerable   as   she   was   more   honest   with   him   than   she   normally   was   with   most   people.   “I   guess   I   just   worry   that   if   you   get   past   that…the   rest   might   not   be   what   you   were   expecting.”  In   an   effort   to   ease   some   of   the   tension   between   them,   Signe   looked   back   up   at   him,   a   teasing   smile   gracing   her   lips.  “I   mean,   you   don’t   even   know   my   last   name   yet.”

Charlie could’ve listened to her laugh for hours. There was something about the sound that cut right through him, easy and bright, pulling a smile to his face before he could think to stop it. There was a bounce of playful energy between them, but beneath it was something warmer, steadier.

Her swat at his hand after the teasing tickle made him laugh, the kind of laugh that was unfiltered, childlike, and entirely sincere. He leaned back slightly, raising both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Message received. Hands where you can see ’em.” But his grin stayed put, and so did the glint in his eye. “I’ll behave.. for now.” He couldn’t help the way he shifted closer in the moment, legs stretched out toward hers, the spread of food between them giving way to the smaller space they were now sharing. He could feel her hand beside his, so close they brushed against each other as he'd reached to grab a strawberry; his knee bumping against her leg. It wasn’t intentional, not fully, but Charlie wasn’t about to pull back either, after all, he rationalized to himself, they were where she could see them.

And then she started talking about her parents. That fondness in her voice hit him somewhere deep in the chest. The way she spoke about their love, their support, it sounded so easy coming from her lips. He listened, picking at the food in front of them with absent hands, but his focus never drifted. His gaze stayed locked on her, quiet admiration softening his features. “Sounds like you hit the jackpot there,” he spoke softly, the smile on his lips genuine but touched with something deeper around the edges. “You know, havin’ people who back you like that… who make it easy to believe in yourself.” He didn’t add not everyone gets that. Didn’t need to. It sat there, unspoken, in the small pause that followed.

When she gave him that playful shove to the shoulder, Charlie leaned into the dramatics again, tipping himself back with a groan like she’d knocked the wind out of him. “Oi! Tryin’ to take me out before I can show off my terrible fashion choices?” His laugh filled the space between them, light and easy, but his eyes stayed soft on her. It was the way she told her story honestly, no bravado, just the kind of quiet passion that made him feel lucky to be listening; that had him leaning in closer without even realizing. His pinky brushed against hers as he adjusted, and this time, he let it stay. Let it slide over, slow and deliberate, his hand shifting just enough that the side of his finger rested against hers fully.

He felt it when she noticed. Felt the small intake of breath, and that crooked smile of his softened into something gentler, something almost shy. “I’m guessin’ that’s why you were starin’ at that painting, yeah?” His voice lowered, teasing but tender. “Caught you right in the middle of your creative epiphany, did I?” Then, leaning back just slightly, but not enough to break the closeness between them, he raised a brow, feigning horror. “Shit… wait. Did I interrupt your whole process? Could’ve stopped the world from experiencin’ the next great piece of fashion. You’ll have to put me in the acknowledgments now, yeah? ‘Dedicated to the lad who ruined my artistic vision by flirtin’ too hard.’” The smirk curved at the edges of his lips, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes. The way he looked at her like he saw all of her, not just the polish she might’ve meant to present.

When he spoke again, his voice dropped into something softer, more honest. “I mean it, though. The way you talk about it.. The way your face lights up… It’s brilliant, Signe. You’re brilliant.” There was that voice in the back of his head, the one that always told him to stay guarded, to keep it cool, to never lean too soft. But tonight, Charlie let himself ignore it. Because he was learning, slowly and stubbornly that gentleness and vulnerability weren’t weaknesses. They were the strongest things he could offer. "I might be comin' on strong, here.. I just don't wanna mess this up.. I like this.. you. I like you."