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Author Topic:  [majorca] lights out [charlie]  (Read 220 times)

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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« on: August 04, 2022, 08:35:25 PM »
 <div align='right'>25 december 2004 // majorca</div>
Honey had only started thinking about inviting Charlie to Majorca to meet her parents (at Christmas, no less) after Fergie had asked if she was planning to. She didn�t ask then, had really only convinced herself to ask after that party Charlie had convinced her to go to. Dressing up, being out around people they knew, helping her make up the time she should have been at the shop preparing all the holiday orders, then maybe getting a bit too merry while running on zero sleep� it had seemed like a good idea at the time. She later convinced herself that it would be an easier visit than she was making it out to be because Fergie�and Edith, she remembered, reminding herself they were a package deal now�would be there, too, distracting Mr and Mrs Flume with his engagement.

She hadn�t mentioned the proposal or the plan for it or that she had been ring shopping with Ferg, hadn�t told Charlie about any of it, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, especially after their wee pregnancy episode. Hindsight was, of course, crystal clear, and Honey had figured that out when her mum asked�immediately upon their arrival, before Honey could properly introduce Charlie to her�if shopping for the ring had given her any ideas for her own. She couldn�t very well apologize to Charlie for not telling him, in front of everyone, not when this visit was supposed to provide some proof of them dating dating and what sort of girlfriend wouldn�t have mentioned that?

But she couldn�t very well mention they had only been dating for seven months, because on the Fergie-and-Edith timeline, they ought to be buying a house together right about now. She gave her mum a �Nope,� and asked Edith something about Bonnie instead.

As was tradition, the sangria was started on well before dinner, and both Honey and Mr Flume were banned from the kitchen, but new for this year was the presence of Charlie and Edith�sticking close to the sangria or staying away from Mrs Flume, either seemed as likely�and Honey having to ask her dad to not play that Santa Baby single. It was too small a house to sneak off somewhere private together�even just for a conversation�so it wasn�t until about thirty seconds before dinner when Charlie and Honey found themselves alone at the table that she was able to offer a hurried apology. �I didn�t think she�d be like this,� she said, figuring she didn�t need to tell him that Mrs Flume was the �she� she was talking about.

It wasn�t until far after dinner and desserts�including so many holiday Honeydukes overstock�and starting on the brandy and Mr and Mrs Flume going to bed and moving the party outside to the pool deck and waiting for Fergie and Edith to turn in (to separate beds because Mrs Flume wouldn�t tolerate a scandal in her house; Merlin help her when she had to break the news about their sleeping arrangements to Charlie) and� Honey was sat poolside, her socks discarded and her new tartan pajamas�another tradition�rolled up to her knees, her feet in the warm water.

�So,� she started, the first to speak since they had been left alone. �I forgot to mention Fergie had been planning to propose,� she told the water, not mentioning her clear intention to not tell him, drumming her fingers on her half empty glass of brandy.

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« Last Edit: November 01, 2022, 06:45:31 PM by cstine »
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #1 on: August 10, 2022, 11:08:10 PM »
 

Charlie’s feet were swinging back and forth slowly in the water, casting ripples across the pool’s dark surface. All in all, the day hadn't gone as badly as it could have (and he’d expected it to go pretty fucking badly), and he was taking that as a win – her dad seemed to like him, at least, or his music, which had made conversation a little easier while the rest of Honey’s immediately family spent the majority of the day in and out of the kitchen, preparing dinner. Which had left him with Mr Flume (Ambrosius), Honey, and Edith – and her sparkly new accessory.

Honey had known—had gone shopping with Fergie for the ring—and hadn’t thought to give him a heads up, or hadn’t done so on purpose – and what did that mean? And did all of this (and Mrs Flume’s comment, which Charlie hadn’t missed) hint to Honey wanting to get married one day too? Was he just wasting her time?

He had a sip of his brandy and then pressed the cool glass against his forehead, slightly pink (though hard to see in the night) from a day of sitting in the sun. He was wearing the tartan pyjamas Honey had bought him for Christmas—the in-front-of-the-parents gift exchange—and had only realised as everyone else opened their matching tartan sets that his was different; blue woven with goldish yellow and purple bands where they all had a brighter blue with green and thin stripes of red (which he wasn’t mad about, his was definitely more subtle). His had also come from his girlfriend, whilst the rest had been from ‘Santa’, so he put two-and-two together: Honey had needed a mum-friendly present and hadn’t wanted him to be left out. He was wearing them both for appearances’ sake (good boyfriend) and because he hadn’t packed any (hadn’t realised he was staying with the Brady Bunch).

Charlie lowered the glass and looked at Honey. “No shit,” he said. He was holding his brandy loosely between both hands, resting between his thighs (pyjama bottoms rolled up to above his knees). He turned to look out over the hills, hard to discern in this light. He should probably make it sound like he was happy for them, and not mad at Honey – both were true, he supposed. “Good for them,” he added, his tone even.

He wet his lips and continued talking quietly, the brandy (and the sangria – better than he’d anticipated) loosening his tongue. “Your mum really is keen, in’t she?” He meant about Honey getting married (presumably not to him), but he figured Honey could decide if he was referring to Ferg and Edith too – the woman had asked to see the ring practically every time she’d emerged from the kitchen, and as the sangria jugs had been refilled, the number of hints of future christmases being busier (read: grandchildren in tow) had increased. “Can’t have her meeting mine, they’ll gang up on us.”


 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #2 on: August 22, 2022, 12:48:09 AM »
 No shit, he said, and Honey rolled her lips inward. Was this about to be a Charlie-is-mad situation? Or– no, it wasn’t, though the alternative that was playing out wasn’t any more fun (and she had no one to blame but herself, but she was deep enough in the brandy to think she was completely reasonable for blaming Fergie  for proposing in the first place).

Charlie added a belated good for them and Honey responded with a noncommittal “Mm.” She lifted her glass to her lips and drained the rest of the brandy, tilting her head back to make sure she didn’t leave a drop behind. Conveniently, she had the bottle of brandy right next to her, and she busied herself with pouring a refill instead of talking about her mum and all the Mum Things she had said that day. “Aye,” she added helpfully. She thought she had deflected everything nicely throughout the day, had a tipple of energy draught instead of her traditional Christmas nap ‘til noon.

And she had made a point by not telling anyone Charlie would be joining them until yesterday, because if they were serious serious, she would have made a bigger deal about it all, right? Plenty of advanced notice to her parents, talking him up– but avoiding all of that hadn’t helped, not really. She could keep telling herself that all those hints at all those future Christmases with grandchildren were directed toward Edith now, but that didn’t make it true (and fuck, she would love to never have to consider the possibility of a Baker baby again).

But also, this was (almost definitely) going to be Fergie’s only engagement so wasn’t their mum allowed to be keen? Honey drank, not sure who she wanted to be defending.

Whatever. There were plenty of reasons to not have their mums meet. Honey opened her mouth to mention Charlie had already been married so his mum needed to chill but gang up on us would mean that their mums didn’t hate the thought of this. Them. She couldn’t put into words why she didn’t want that to happen, but she figured it was somewhere around not wanting her mum’s all out approval. She managed a quick, “No,” and had another drink.

Honey exhaled, almost sighed. “I thought it would distract her, no make her worse.” It was as close to an apology as she thought she might get without actually making one. Actually, no: Honey passed the bottle across her and held it out for Charlie. That was the closest.  
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #3 on: August 28, 2022, 06:17:15 PM »
 

Honey said No quickly and Charlie sat up a fraction straighter, not sure if he should be offended or relieved. He glanced down at the glass of brandy in his fingers, and turned it in his hands slowly.

Honey sighed, Charlie glanced at her out of the corner of his eye— Determined it was safe to look at her, so he did. He let out a soft sigh of his own. “Yeah.” She offered him the bottle of brandy and he emptied his glass (by draining it) before taking the bottle from her and pouring himself a new (full) serve.

Charlie set it back down on his side – for emotional support, and the added bonus of Honey having to reach around him if she wanted more. He fiddled with his pyjama collar, had a sip of brandy, and stared out into the dark. “My mum was the same,” he volunteered after a moment, intentionally not turning his head to meet Honey’s eye as he spoke of his ex, of his last engagement.

“Least it gave her something to focus on that wasn’t how much she hates me,” he continued before having another sip. He didn’t really think her mum hated him, but she certainly wasn’t his biggest fan (her dad on the other hand…).

 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #4 on: August 30, 2022, 10:05:03 PM »
 In the time it took Charlie to pour himself a refill and say something more helpful than yeah, Honey had finished nearly a third of her drink.

It took her a second–wondering when Charlie had the chance to tell his mum about Fergie getting engaged, never mind why–before she realized he was (obviously) talking about himself getting engaged, never mind married. Honey took a larger sip of her brandy than was absolutely necessary rather than acknowledging what he said, trying not to think about it at all. And please, Merlin, she would use all her Christmas wishes to make sure Fergie and Edith weren’t married in three months time– no, that wasn’t not thinking about it. She had another drink.

Charlie said something else, wisely, and Honey latched onto that instead. “She doesn’t hate ye,” she said automatically, before giving it any thought. Once she did: “Don’t think she likes ye, but–“ But what? She couldn’t say with any confidence that her mum might come around–she still asked after Will on occasion–but, “Been there.” And she had come around, somehow. She smirked, trying to make light of it all (so maybe these couple of days wouldn’t be all about her mum).

“And now Am buying you jammies,” she said as she leaned across him, reaching for the bottle he had conveniently left on his other side. She lingered in his space for a few more seconds, half thinking about that–his space–and half thinking about buying Charlie such a family-appropriate gift. She had (correctly) assumed Mrs Flume wasn’t buying anything in their tartan for him, but she didn’t want to talk about her mum anymore

Honey faced forward again, setting the bottle down between her legs to free up a hand. She reached for the fabric just above his knee, pinching it between her fingers. “Can get ye a kilt next year,” she said, not thinking about talking about next year as if she had been making plans (she hadn’t).
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #5 on: September 05, 2022, 07:25:50 PM »
 

She didn’t hate him – well, that was nice. But, there it was: she didn’t like him either. Charlie let out a soft snort of amusement. If he’d been treating all of this more seriously—more seriously than spending Christmas with Honey’s family—he might’ve been more worried about Isla Flume’s opinion, but he was still mostly convinced that this was going to blow up in their faces at some point, or perhaps just reluctant to consciously admit that there was something about this that he was wary of overinvesting in.

Honey smirked at him and he rolled his eyes as he nudged her with his shoulder, using a little more force than he’d intended (sangria, brandy). Charlie’s gaze dropped to said jammies and he tried not to grin – failed. “Very nice they are, too,” he said, not at all facetiously (a little); he really leaned into it, then: smoothing the material out along his thigh— Then she was in his space, and he was distracted, looking at her face and the patterns the pool reflections were making across her skin.

He drank in the lull— paused and raised an eyebrow when he felt her fingers on his thigh (it had been a long day, specifically of not touching too much). He glanced down as he lowered his glass. “You better fucking not,” he told her with a lopsided grin. Belatedly, he processed next year and his expression slipped slowly as it sunk in. He swallowed, shirked the feeling. “Don’t you need to be Scottish to wear one anyway?”

 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #6 on: September 09, 2022, 12:32:40 AM »
 Honey rolled her eyes. They were, in fact, nice pyjamas— arsehole.

They were sitting closer now, with practically no space left between them, so it was hard for Honey to really look at Charlie properly but she smirked, regardless, as if him telling her not to do something would have literally any effect at all. Charlie in a kilt; she’d have to tell him about the true Scotsman tradition someday. Maybe when she wasn’t sitting within hearing distance from her parents.

Honey poured herself a refill, focusing on not spilling anything or dropping the bottle into the pool, not focusing on Charlie’s face, nor his expressions. She took his question to be about tartan in general, instead of just the kilt—thanks, alcohol—and she shrugged, setting the bottle down on her other side (and stealing Charlie’s idea of making him crowd her space whenever he needed another drink). “Or want to be Scottish so badly ye’ve got one anyway.” She lifted her glass to have a drink, but when he didn’t say anything immediately she lowered it again, poking his thigh (and the tartan) two times, letting her finger stay put after the second one. “Baker tartan,” she said, as if it should have been obvious.

“Couldnae get ours,” she went on to explain (helpfully), talking just a notch too fast, a byproduct of drinking and being around her family and talking about tartan. “Mum only got Edith’s after she—“ she stopped, deciding not to bring up the proposal again. Her gaze lingered on a tree past the deck chairs, her hand now fully grasping his thigh. “A’ve got ye a real gift, besides.” One she didn’t want to give him in front of anyone else. She leaned into him, halfway between a nudge and something else she couldn’t figure out.  
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
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[majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #7 on: October 09, 2022, 12:20:21 AM »
 

Charlie laughed – too deep in the brandy to give a witty retort (“Och, aye.”). His attention was drawn down to where Honey’s finger jabbed into his thigh; he raised one eyebrow at whatever non-verbal— Baker tartan. His other eyebrow joined the first as comprehension dawned, before both furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the pattern with more interest, knowing what he knew now. He proceeded to zone out as Honey prattled on about their tartan, her mum, Edith…

He lifted his chin when she mentioned a real gift, and he wet his lips around a grin as she leaned into him. “Have ye?” he replied, employing a poor Scottish accent—something he and Edith had started doing as a joke whenever a Flume was out of earshot, and had apparently stuck—before relaxing back into his usual slow, Yorkshire drawl; “Convenient, I’ve got you one too,” he smirked, the expression softening into a smile subconsciously as his mind continued to process Baker tartan.

Honey’s hand was still on his thigh and he closed his over the top of it, not squeezing but trying to communicate something. “Didn’t know we had one,” he admitted in a low voice—we as if The Bakers were some sort of clan, not just an occupational surname— And, at that, an occupation his family had long left behind— And what sort of surname was ‘Flume’, anyway? Charlie turned his head to look at the Flume beside him and paused, belatedly processing Mum only got Edith’s after and realising Honey’s choice in (family friendly) gift might’ve also been of a subtle shove it to her mum.

“Thanks,” he said, his lips twisting into a small, awkward smile.

“I— D’you want your other one now? While everyone’s asleep?” he asked, before the silence became weird or too much. He definitely didn’t want her opening it around her parents (though it might’ve been worth her opening it in front of Fergie, give the lad some hints as to what to get Edith). And he had wanted to see her reaction anyway, but now he felt like it was more essential, in case he needed to promise he had something else back home (he didn’t) if she didn’t like it— And he was overthinking it. He had a swallow of brandy.

 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
894 Posts  -  31  -  take you to the candy shop  -  PST (GMT-8)  -  played by cstine
Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #8 on: October 31, 2022, 06:03:50 PM »
Honey leaned into him again, nudging his shoulder with hers one more time, letting him know she hadn’t missed him making fun of her accent. She couldn’t help it, not with everything going against her– she was drinking, she was with her family, she was… Scottish. But she didn’t dwell on it for too long–the brandy was helping her not focus on things for too long–and yes, she had gotten him a real gift. And he had one for her, too, and thank fuck– imagine if their first proper Christmas gifts had been solely pajamas and jumpers.

First Christmas sunk in then, as if she was planning on there being more, just one in a long line of many, and she didn’t think she was doing that intentionally. It was probably some subconscious thing that had crept up only after she had realized this was now officially her longest relationship–and then promptly kept that information to herself–or something. Honey opened her mouth to try and improve the situation–as if he was reading her thoughts–and maybe get back in the right frame of mind– she quickly forgot her internal argument against herself when he put his hand on hers; she looked down at them with a soft smile. Charlie didn’t know he had a tartan, and Honey shrugged, as if she had known he had all along and hadn’t just found it out a few days ago. She matched his volume: “Well now you do.” She gave his leg a squeeze before she turned her hand over, aligning her palm with his before sliding her fingers between his and giving another squeeze.

She could tell Charlie was looking at her, and she let a couple seconds pass before she returned the favor, raising her eyebrows expectantly– either talk or not talk or anything more than nothing. She hadn’t expected the thanks, though, and it took her a beat before she smiled back, assuming he was still talking about the pajamas. “Aye.” He couldn’t very well have been the only one there without them.

Charlie offered the other gift along with the unnecessary explanation that he was offering now because everyone else was asleep. “Yeah,” she said, with the same smile. “You too,” she told him, rather than asking him. “I can get them?” Assuming their bags were still in the bedroom that she would be sharing with only Edith– Charlie didn’t need to figure out what the sleeping arrangements were meant to be, not yet. She gave his hand another squeeze before she moved to stand up, using Charlie’s shoulder as leverage after she had pulled her feet out of the pool. She took her drink with her–it took her a minute to towel off her feet one-handedly because she would rather be slow than use her wand and lose a toe–and set off back into the house as quietly as a brandy-soaked Honey could be.

Their bags were easy to find in the soft wandlight, but she had to set her drink down on the bedside table to rummage through them. (Edith was on the top bunk so if she was awake, Honey had no idea.) The present she pulled from her own bag was a small-ish box wrapped in bright pink paper and the present she pulled from Charlie’s was… a small-ish box wrapped in bright pink paper. She smirked–more at their shared lack of Christmas wrapping than the similarity, she thought–as she stood up again and headed back outside.

“You first,” Honey said, holding out the slightly heavier gift for Charlie to take. She held out her hand for Charlie’s glass–realizing she had lost hers–and it only took him two more seconds than she would have liked for him to catch up to what she was asking. She sat next to him again, taking a long sip of brandy and appreciating that their positioning meant she didn’t necessarily have to see Charlie’s reaction to what was in the box.
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
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Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #9 on: November 26, 2022, 03:57:43 PM »
Charlie gently squeezed Honey’s hand in response, glad he hadn’t misjudged this – not them, as a whole (although that was proving true so far too), but Christmas, presents, holding hands like normal people.

Honey offered to get their other presents and Charlie nodded once. “Yeah, alright.” He let her hand slip from his and then followed her up with it as she got to her feet – as if he had any hope of grabbing her without taking himself in too if she decided to overbalance into the pool.

And then she was gone, leaving him alone with his feet in the water, sipping brandy in the Spanish hills. It was hard not to let the intrusive thought of another pool with different hills in, but he pushed it out in favour of remembering that it was a year ago—to the day, possibly the hour—that Honey had used her parents telephone to call him – and that might not have been the only thing that had changed things but it was definitely bundled up in all of that period.

Honey’s quiet footsteps on the stone announced her return and Charlie looked up at her with her two pink boxes. He broke into a lopsided grin as he took the one offered him (of course they were both pink). It took him a moment to notice she was still holding her hand out after he had relieved her of his present, and another to realise she wanted his brandy. He passed it to her and twisted slightly to place the box on the ground just behind them, rather than risk opening it over the water.

He ought not to be surprised that it was wrapped to the same standard as anything from Honeydukes was, tissue paper and all— and, of course: a bright pink Honeydukes branded t-shirt. His lips twisted into a reluctant (not really) grin as he pulled it up and out of the box to view it in all of its glory. “Does this make me an official employee now?” he smirked, turning it around to hold it against his front and look down at himself – and in doing so, noticing there was more in the box. His gaze flicked to Honey quickly and then back down, as he set the t-shirt aside to pick up the photo frame, half-dreading seeing what was in it— But it was the article from Witch Weekly, complete with their very PDA photograph, and that was far less awkward than a real couple photo that he was expected to hang in his house somewhere. Charlie grinned again as he thumbed the frame.

And still, there was more in the box – or, just a Honeydukes receipt. Not just, he supposed – it meant something to them, at least. He picked it up and his smile widened as he read happy christmas xx B. “Can add this to me scrapbook,” he smirked. It occurred to him after he said it that perhaps Honey was the scrapbooking type—framing articles—or she thought he really was and hadn’t picked up on the joke. Either way, it was less terrifying than he felt it might be coming from someone else. Beyond literally being casual with her up until… whenever it was they started not being casual, there was a casualness about Honey that eradicated any fear of things being too serious.

“Thanks,” he said finally, with another, smaller smile. There was a small concern that his gift for her would be less well-received, because it was as far from sentimental as one could get, but women were just like that, obviously, if even Honey was the type to keep clippings. Charlie decided there was no point in trying to verbally justify his selection before he’d observed her reaction to it, and she was already holding her box, so he met her eye and tilted his head in invitation to open hers.
 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
894 Posts  -  31  -  take you to the candy shop  -  PST (GMT-8)  -  played by cstine
Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #10 on: December 08, 2022, 12:50:31 AM »
Honey leaned forward to peer around Charlie, careful not to lean herself into the pool (or, at least, not leaning so far forward that she couldn’t still sip her brandy). The drink kept her mouth busy; she didn’t know what sort of expression she should have on her face. She couldn’t be too smiley (embarrassing) or not smiley enough (because this wasn’t a serious gift).

She had to grin, though, when he held up his new Honeydukes shirt (and not because he looked like he might actually like it, might even wear it). She matched his smirk when he met her eye and she sat up straight(er) with a laugh. “Merlin, no,” she said while shaking her head, pausing long enough to have another swallow of brandy. “I cannae afford you,” she finished with another grin. Not that she had paid him (with money) when he had helped her out before, but that was beside the point.

Charlie looked back at the box, then at her, and Honey raised her eyebrows– there was more to the gift. She swallowed as she watched him pick up the framed clipping, the article about and photo of them from the latest Witch Weekly, because nothing said ‘this is my longest relationship’ like a photo of yourself having a very public snog. Except he wasn’t saying anything. Honey had thought it was funny–never mind they got her age wrong–and she (and Charlie) looked so good in the photo, and it had clearly been a last minute idea because the magazine had only come out three days ago– it was too much, and he didn’t like it. So that was cool. Whatever, she could keep it for herself.

He liked the note, at least. Honey smirked, moving on with things. He mentioned his scrapbook and she laughed, rolling her eyes. “No, I haven’t drawn any dicks on this one.” There was the tiny realization that she was fine with him holding onto this note, and that was a new feeling; usually she tried to be the one to start on new parchment, make sure no one on Charlie’s end read anything. She didn’t have to worry about that now, or something.

Honey nodded, smiling and shrugging off his thanks. It was a mostly good gift, and at least she was starting to figure out what sort of gifts he didn’t like, for future reference. (She could wait until later to worry about thinking about the future.) And then it was her turn to open her present, so she took a final sip of brandy and handed the glass back. Besides the bright pink wrapping, the first thing she noticed about the box was how light it was– light enough that it probably wasn’t a book.

It was wrapped so similarly to her own gift that she couldn’t help but grin, though that was quickly replaced by a smirk when it was clear they had gone in different directions. She hooked a strap with each of her pointer fingers and lifted the bra–hot pink and leaving very little to the imagination–out of the box, looking from it to Charlie with a smirk. “You’re no supposed tae buy yourself a gift,” she said, quirking an eyebrow before glancing back down to the box and– yes, it was part of a set. “Thanks,” she said, setting the box to the side without bothering to cover her new things with the tissue paper.

Honey didn’t bother saying anything else before she leaned in, softly (but a little drunkenly) pressing her lips to his, because a little light snogging never hurt anyone (and she was almost sure no one in her family was about to interrupt). She pulled back after a minute or so, just enough so she had room to breathe. “Did I mention ye have tae sleep on the floor?” She asked quietly, knowing full well she hadn’t.
 
honey bea flume

Charlie Baker [Artist]
1300 Posts  -  29  -  candy girl  -  GMT+12  -  played by laura
Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #11 on: January 08, 2023, 06:19:42 PM »
He returned her smirk with something closer to a grin. “All the more reason to keep it,” he countered, placing it (somewhat dramatically) back into the box with the frame and the t-shirt, all the better to hide the contraband from the rest of the Flumes (and soon-to-be Flumes).

Honey passed the glass of brandy to him and Charlie took it, having a long sip as she began unwrapping her present. He didn’t bother to hide the smirk on his lips as she raised one half of her gift up to get a better look at it in the moonlight; his attention flicked from her face to the bra and back, just barely holding back from suggesting she try it now because they (he) had been so well behaved so far— Charlie laughed. “Are you not?” he grinned. “Oops.” She said thanks and his smirk didn’t lessen any.

Honey’s lips were on his and he kissed back immediately, not mad about a physical thank you to go along with the verbal one, grateful for some time alone. “Hm?” He blinked his eyes open, repeated what she’d just said in his head. “What?” He sat up a little straighter, glancing toward the dark doorway—in the vague direction of the bedrooms—before looking back at Honey. “There’s bunk beds?” he half-asked, doubting his recollection of the room he’d put his bag in on arrival (and he hadn’t planned on utilising both beds at any rate).
 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
894 Posts  -  31  -  take you to the candy shop  -  PST (GMT-8)  -  played by cstine
Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #12 on: January 08, 2023, 08:51:55 PM »
Honey didn’t want to repeat herself. She would if she had to but she really didn’t want to. It was only for two nights, and she would make it up to him— Charlie looked at the house, then back at her, and Honey grimaced, stopping short of apologizing. He mentioned the bunk beds and Honey nodded, slowly. “Aye,” she started, trailing off and saying nothing else.

But a second passed and she went on. “Edith took the top bunk.” So, in theory, Honey and Charlie could take the bottom bunk—it wasn’t exactly spacious so it would be cozy—as long as Charlie got up and out before her parents woke up. She didn’t think Edith was a snitch, but somehow her mum always knew, because her mum was— Honey rolled her eyes. “My mum…” She trailed off again, almost afraid her mum would be able to hear her.

Besides, Honey hated having to explain it, how childish it was. She and Charlie couldn’t sleep in the same room, but as an offshoot to that, neither could Fergie and Edith, so nobody won. Was it Honey’s fault that the rule was in place at all? Yes. Had it only been enforced after she was called a harlot in the papers? Also yes. But Charlie had no room to judge. “She doesnae trust me for some reason,” she said with another eye roll, before she leaned in again, finishing her thought in a loud whisper: “Can’t imagine why.” She smirked for a solid second before she kissed him again, keen to distract him (but not too much).
 
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Charlie Baker [Artist]
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Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #13 on: January 22, 2023, 05:51:14 PM »
Aye, there were bunk beds… And it took her a long moment to elaborate. Charlie assumed Edith hadn’t done this specifically to thwart them (if she had, she’d done a bloody good job pretending to be his friend all day), and Honey confirmed his suspicions after another moment: her mum. Of course. Charlie pressed his lips together, mostly to prevent himself from saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Right,” he said instead, not quite mad but—pardon the cliche—definitely disappointed. It wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to sleep in a separate bedroom to his girlfriend, but for some reason (the age difference, maybe) he’d expected them all to be a bit more mature about this sort of thing.

Mrs Flume—Isla—didn’t trust her daughter. She certainly didn’t trust him either, even if she had been reasonably nice to him today (Christmas spirit(s) and all that, presumably). Charlie felt the corner of his lips pull up into a small smile because it was funny, he supposed. Almost thirty—Honey already past that milestone—and still not considered adult enough to share a bed. Nevermind that she obviously knew—because Witch Weekly told her—that they weren’t sleeping in separate rooms back home. He distractedly accepted Honey’s kiss, interpreting it as an apology of sorts. If this was all he was getting, he decided to make the most of it – leaning into her with a bit more pressure.

He pulled back after a few minutes, once his thought tangents had circled back to his sleeping arrangements. “Have I at least got an airbed?” he asked; she had said floor and if she meant it literally he might as well sleep out here on one of the sun loungers.
 
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Honey Bea Flume [Artist]
894 Posts  -  31  -  take you to the candy shop  -  PST (GMT-8)  -  played by cstine
Re: [majorca] lights out [charlie]
« Reply #14 on: January 24, 2023, 10:31:10 PM »
It wouldn’t do well to get that sort of distracted, not with her parents so close by, but they weren’t doing anything really incriminating (yet).

It took her half a second to realize he was stopping things–though his hand on her thigh might have suggested otherwise–and the other half of the second to understand what he was asking. The airbed, so he didn’t have to sleep on the floor. “Oh, aye,” she said with a soft smirk, lazily tracing Charlie’s jawline with her thumb, her hand resting on the side of his neck.

Honey dropped her hand a few inches to the collar of his pyjama top, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “A thought we could wait until Ferg was asleep before we inflated it.” It was electric and loud and she was a witch and didn’t need to do it that way, but where was the fun in that?

“But,” she started again, taking the glass from him and leaning back just enough to reach between them and set it on the ground. “We can stay out here as long as we want.” Because as fun as waking Ferg up would be– this was better. She leaned in again to show him what they could do instead.

[[ out ]]
 
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