anchorsfm

[anchorsfm]

Charlie shoved past the defender, not bothering to hide the sharp cut of his glare as he jogged, limped, back into position. His knee was already throbbing, nerves sparking underneath old scar tissue, but pride kept him moving. Barely. The next tackle was harder. Deliberate. Charlie hit the ground with a grunt, the shock rattling all the way up his spine. For a beat he stayed down, teeth clenched, waiting for the sting to dull. It didn’t. Not fully. He pushed himself up with a low groan, waving off the designated captain’s concerned look as he limped toward the sidelines. "I’m tappin’ out," Charlie muttered, jaw tight. "Nah, mate, I ain’t hurtin’ myself over this shit. Man needs to calm the fuck down."

He made it to his duffle and dropped down heavily beside it, exhaling through his nose. His hands worked quickly, tugging open the bag, digging out the black brace he always kept shoved at the bottom, just in case. His fingers were rough, impatient as he strapped it onto his knee, tightening the velcro with practiced efficiency. The familiar squeeze was a small relief against the ache. That was when he felt it.. that prickling sense of being watched. Charlie glanced up, breath still coming a little fast, and his eyes landed on a figure standing just beyond the field. Arms crossed, posture rigid, expression carved from pure judgment, and a stare that could’ve pinned him to the ground harder than any tackle.

He froze, squinting slightly, as if making sure the glare really was directed at him. It was. He glanced behind him, hoping, praying maybe someone else was the target. No such luck. Slowly, he pointed at himself, eyebrows pulling together in wary confusion. "Did I… do somethin'?"

    Vic  often  had  their  arms  crossed,  UNIMPRESSED  with  grown  men  who  fought  on  sports  fields.  However,  if  this  had  15  years  ago  it  would've  been  made  them  a  hypocrite  to  be  so  judgemental  of  being  so  prone  to  fits  of  justified  rage  &  bravado.  The  truth  was  that  there  was  an  envy,  deep  within  their  marrow,  that  wished  they  could  be  perceived  in  the  way  that  this  fanfare  was.  Oh,  to  be  a  man  fighting  on  a  field  over  a  game  --  to  be  a  man  cheered  for  the  way  that  so  many  of  their  idols  had  been  before  them.  A  gender  envy  that  Vic  was  able  to  achieve,  not  the  same  as  they  once  were  back  when  they  were  still  performing.  But  this  bravado  was  unimpressive  when  it  came  to  pick  up  games  in  the  park.  At  least  the  fouled  had  had  a  reason  to  spit  fire  at  their  opponent  --  was  that?

    Was  that  who  Signe  had  been  raving  about?  At  least  he  was  a  good  football  player.  In  reality,  Vic  was  kind  of  shocked  that  Signe  hadn't  gone  for  a  more  artistic  type  --  but  opposites  did  attract.  To  the  person  next  to  them,  they  said,  "I  feel  like  I  should've  taken  up  this  sport  when  I  had  the  chance.  Getting  to  INJURE  people  like  that  and  get  away  with  it?  Is  there  a  court  for  footballers?"  It  was  said  loud  enough  for  anyone  to  hear,  including  the  ref.  The  glowering  stayed  on  Charlie  Hughes,  like  a  hawk,  like  a  dare.

[anchorsfm]

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, low and amused, his head tipping as he grinned at her like he couldn't believe she'd wanted him just as much as he'd wanted her. "Me? Insufferable?" His voice was full of mock offense, but there was no mistaking the affection bleeding through. "You really know all the right things to say to a man, don’t ya?" He shifted, the movement easy, the kind that closed the last little distance between them. "Not my fault you didn’t read the fine print, love. You signed the dotted line the second you kissed me back. This is legally binding now." His nose brushed hers again, and his grin softened into something a little more intimate. "You’re gonna have to try a lot harder if you want to break this contract, Holström."

Charlie pressed a kiss to the top of her head, barely a brush of lips, but deliberate. "As if I ain’t got enough character already," he added under his breath, the smile in his voice undeniable. "Now you're gonna make me wait." Charlie sighed in a faux-disappointment, "Keep talkin’ like that, love, and I’m gonna be forced to scoop you up and carry you outta here before you even get a chance to sing. You know I would." His fingers splayed possessively against her side like he didn’t even realize he was doing it, like touch had become muscle memory now. He hummed low, the sound vibrating in his chest. "But stuck with ya?" He leaned back just enough to catch her gaze. "Sounds like the best deal I’ve ever made."

Charlie laughed when she threw a few names into the mix, his eyebrows lifting high in mock betrayal. "Nickelback?" he repeated, scandalized. He gave her side a playful squeeze, "I’ve got standards, ya know.." He let the teasing linger just a second longer before softening again, voice dropping as he nudged his nose against her hair. "I think I told ya Mum’s a huge ABBA fan, yeah? Used to have ‘em blarin’ while we cooked together.. I can't tell you how many times she came to pick me up from trainin' with the windows down and Dancing Queen blastin' out the speakers." He chuckled at the memory, shifting just enough to glance down at her, his voice warm, "Could be good luck if we sang one together. Tradition and all that." There was a beat of silence, not awkward but weighty, before Charlie added in a softer, almost boyish voice, "Sound good to you, Signe? Your insufferable menace at your side..?" His hand gave a small, anchoring squeeze at her waist again, his smirk wicked and fond all at once.

Signe   felt   her   cheeks   burn,   flustered   by   how   infatuated   Charlie   seemed   to   be   that   he   could   shout   his   affections   and   it   didn't   even   occur   to   him   to   be   embarrassed.   It   was   utterly,   and   hopelessly   charming.   She   was   such   a   goner.   She   tried   to   shoot   him   a   glare   when   he   slipped   the   straw   into   her   drink,   but   her   mouth   betrayed   her   with   a   pleased   grin.   Charlie—her   Charlie—looked   at   her   like   she   hung   the   stars   just   for   him.   It   made   her   let   out   a   helpless   sort   of   huff   as   she   tried   to   will   the   color   from   her   face   as   he   bumped   their   noses   and   called   himself   her   menace. "God,   you're   insufferable,"   she   muttered,   not   for   the   first   and   most   definitely   not   for   the   last   time.   The   fondness   in   her   voice   truly   undermined   any   attempt   at   an   insult.   Signe   lifted   her   drink   with   a   theatrical   roll   of   her   eyes,   but   proudly   sipped   through   the   straw.   "Full   experience,   huh?   Maybe   I   should've   read   the   fine   print   on   this   whole   girlfriend   business,"   she   teased. Charlie's   arm   slipped   behind   her   and   his   hand   came   to   rest   at   her   side.   She   leaned   into   the   warmth   of   him,   tucking   her   head   against   his   shoulder   with   a   contented   sigh.   "Hmm...I   might   have   a   song   in   mind,"   she   said,   glancing   up   at   him   from   beneath   her   lashes.   "But   you're   just   gonna   have   to   wait   and   see.   Suspense   is   good   for   you,   I   hear.   Builds   character." Then   she   watched   the   way   he   reacted   when   she   said   boyfriend   and   she   could   physically   see   it   hit   him.   Feel   it   in   the   way   his   fingers   traced   along   her   side   and   his   voice   dipped   just   enough   to   stir   something   low   in   her   belly.   "Confirmed,"   she   said   simply,   her   eyes   flicking   back   and   forth   from   his   mouth   to   his   own.   "I'm   coming   home   with   you.   You're   stuck   with   me."   Her   voice   was   softer   now,   but   still   sure.   If   she   hadn't   already   been   planning   to   spend   the   night,   his   little   stunt   would   have   guaranteed   it.   She   let   him   kiss   her   again   and   let   herself   fall   into   the   moment   until   he   pulled   away   with   that   teasing   look   on   his   face. Signe   laughed,   her   nose   scrunching.   "Okay,   I'm   in.   What   are   we   thinking?   ABBA?   Spice   Girls?   Backstreet   boys?"   A   beat.   "...Nickelback?"

[anchorsfm]

The word home hit harder than Jack liked to admit. 'She does the exact same thing at home.' He tried to blink past it, to file it somewhere else in his mind where it wouldn’t ache so sharply. Not your home anymore, something inside of him whispered. Jack forced a nod, short and stiff. "Good to know," he muttered, but even to his own ears, the words came out strained. He cleared his throat, leaning into old habits, the stoic and strong set of his jaw, the gruffness used for armor. He shifted forward, forearms braced on his knees, the image of a man trying to hold himself upright against something impossibly heavy. The beard he normally kept neat was grown out in a way that made him look even more tired.

Jack nodded along as Celine glanced through the planner. He was relieved when she offered to take dance, shoulders relaxing at the thought, "It would work well if you dropped her off," he said, voice low and roughened at the edges. "I can pick her up, we'll do dinner and I'll bring her back to you so you can have the uninterrupted time to shower and do all you need to do after yoga." His eyes lifted to meet hers, softer now, worn down. "God knows you deserve the space." It was meant to sound casual, but Jack’s throat tightened mid-sentence, the words catching before he could force them out. His head dropped, the way it always did when the tears pressed too close to the surface. The only day he hadn’t hidden them was the day Rosie was born, too overcome with the overwhelming feeling of holding her in his arms. Jack stayed with his head down for a breath longer than he meant to, feeling the tightness in his throat. We're still a team..

When he finally looked back up, his voice was barely more than a rasp. "I’m sorry." He huffed out a small, broken, self-deprecating laugh, "I just.." Jack shook his head, giving himself a second to find his words. When he spoke again, it was quieter, steadier. "Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. And it’s not.." he stopped, jaw clenching. "It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to comfort me. I’m the one who.." his voice broke, a breath caught in the back of his throat, "I'm the one who wrecked it." He sat back, running a hand over his face. "You deserved more than I could give you," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "You still do. And yet here you are, doing exactly what you’ve always done.. taking care of me even when you shouldn’t have to." Jack let the words sit there between them, unpolished and heavy, but true.

Celine   fingers   hovered   over   the   apple   slices   for   a   moment   before   she   picked   a   few.   Even   with   her   little   snack,   she   was   listening   to   him,   so   intently.   She   could   hear   the   pride   and   guilt   that   were   tangled   in   his   voice   when   he   spoke   and   it   just   made   her   heart   clench.   Celine   knew   just   how   terrified   Jack   was   of   disappointing   Rosie.   From   the   moment   that   her   ex-husband   had   come   out   to   her,   they   had   both   emphatically   agreed   that   this   all   had   to   be   about   their   little   girl.   They   had   to   guide   her   through   the   situation   together   as   a   parental   unit,   even   if   no   longer   in   a   romantic   relationship.   (   Was   it   ever   even   romantic   ?   ) "Don't   worry,   she   does   the   exact   same   thing   at   home,"   she   mumbled,   biting   a   slice   of   apple   as   she   watched   him   slide   the   planner   toward   her.   Celine   carefully   studies   the   planner,   noting   all   the   sticky   notes   and   different   colored   pens   and   markets   and   stickers.   He   was   doing   everything   right,   she   knew,   but   he   still   didn't   seem   to   feel   like   it   was   enough.   She   picked   up   planner,   making   sense   of   the   mess   of   overlapping   rehearsals   and   game   days,   and   made   a   soft   noise   in   her   throat. "I   can   take   dance   on   Thursdays,"   she   said   after   a   moment.   "I   signed   up   for   a   yoga   glass   just   around   the   block   so   I   can   drop   her   off   if   you   want   to   pick   her   up,   or   y'know   vice-versa."   Celine   smiled   at   Jack   and   offered   him   a   comforting   squeeze.   "While   Signe   is   fantastic   with   her,   I   think   we   can   handle   it,"   she   paused,   debating   on   whether   or   not   to   allow   her   next   words   to   come   out.   "We're   still   a   team,   you   know?   You   can   rely   on   me   when   you   need   to.   It's   not   a   burden   and   especially   not   when   it's   about   our   daughter."

[anchorsfm]

Adriana laughed along with Jones, the kind of easy, unrestrained laugh that made her shoulders relax. She let Jones carefully inspect the ends of her hair, grinning like a kid caught sneaking candy. "That’s because I have what is essentially a fifteen step hair care routine," she said, her voice mock solemn. "You spend as much time in the water as I do, and you either get serious about it or you wind up looking like Ursula. And I’m trying to keep the sea witch era at least a few decades away." She smiled, softer now, as she watched Jones fuss with a strand of her hair.

"You, though." Adriana tilted her head, warm and proud. "You’re ridiculous if you think you’re not still an incredible player. Pivot or not, you’re always going to be my favorite to watch." Her words were firm, not the kind of compliment tossed out just to be kind, but real, steady. "Even if you make me unbraid your whole head in some kind of emotional support unbraiding ceremony, you’re still going to be the best at anything you decide to try." She gave Jones a playful nudge with her elbow, bracelets jingling softly against her skin. "I’m not pivoting career wise, but I’m always on board with shaking things up a little. Keeps life interesting." Her grin widened quickly. "Besides, who’s else is going to be around to remind you that even Zizou was able to pivot? You’re allowed to want something new. Something big. Different isn't always bad.." Adriana leaned back a little, tilting her face toward the breeze. "But if you want my opinion, I don’t think you’re pivoting away from anything. You’re just expanding. Bigger field, different game." She glanced back over, eyes shining bright with affection. "Pivot queen or not, you’re stuck with me."

   Jones  breaks  out  into  l  a  u  g  h  t  e  r  then,  unfettered  and  loud.  It  feels  like  happiness.  Maybe  it's  the  extended  time  on  the  beach,  the  sun  mixed  with  saltwater  finally  getting  to  her  scalp.  Maybe  it's  the  fumes  from  the  paint  station  or  the  bonfire,  all  of  it  making  her  feel  lighter  than  she  has  in  months.  Touching  Adriana's  hair,  Jones  is  much  more  careful  than  the  previous  roasting  would  imply  her  to  be.  Her  hair  is  beautiful  even  with  all  the  split  ends  and  it  being  tangled.  "How  you  live  like  this  and  still  look  GORGEOUS  with  a  full  head  of  hair?  The  wellness  industry  wishes  it  could  bottle  it  up  along  with  those  affirmations  in  a  serum  and  sell  it."

   Her  eyes  met  Adri's  as  she  speaks,  "it  would  only  be  fair  for  me  to  let  you  play  in  my  hair  in  return  to  unbraid  if  the  emotional  support  music  proves  to  not  be  enough.  Though,  at  this  rate,  I  may  just  pay  someone  to  do  it  for  me."  There's  a  feeling  of  Jones  feeling  charmed  by  the  kindness  that  Adriana  offers  her  with  their  words,  taking  a  deep  breath  as  her  hand  takes  a  strand  of  hair  and  places  it  over  her  shoulder,  her  hand  lightly  brushing  against  it.  "I  may  pivot  but  I'll  be  hard  pressed  to  find  a  new  profession  that  lets  me  do  headers  for  a  living.  I  can't  be  like  Zinedine  Zidane  and  make  it  my  whole  personality."  The  idea  of  the  pivot  is  one  that's  been  floated  to  her  before,  a  lot  more  digestable  coming  from  Adriana.  "Have  you  been  thinking  of  pivoting  at  all?  Do  I  have  a  pending  pivot  QUEEN  in  front  of  me?"

[anchorsfm]

charliexhughes: Life lately 😁 Tagged: signe.styled

@ofresoluxe

[anchorsfm]

Adriana barked out a laugh, tossing a napkin in Signe’s direction like it was a badge of honor. "That’s all I’ve ever wanted, really. A legacy. Here lies Adriana: a menace, not a criminal. I’ll haunt anyone who tries to edit it." As Signe continued, her teasing shifting to something gentler, her smile softening with the kind of pride that only came from watching someone you love slowly begin to believe they deserve good things. Adriana leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hand, gaze steady on Signe. "I mean it, Babe," she said, voice quieter now, sincere. "You deserve someone who holds your heart like it’s a secret only they get to keep. Who sees all your overthinking and doesn’t try to fix it.. just stays with you through it. And if that’s Charlie?" Adriana’s brows lifted with a grin. "Then the man’s a genius... and very very lucky." She smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"And me? I’ll continue being your emotionally unlicensed hype woman until further notice.. And listen.. chaos isn’t a phase. It’s a lifestyle. I was raised by wolves and wine moms, Signe. You don’t recover from that. You lean in." Adriana laughed, tilting her head back before wagging her finger at Signe. "Don’t let my uncanny ability to say the right thing fool you. I have no clue what I’m doing majority of the time. I just… know you. And I love you." She looked down then, cheeks flushed slightly, and fiddled with her bracelets before adding, "I’m just really proud of you, okay? And I’m always going to be in your corner. No matter what." Then, with the same dramatic flare she was famous for, she wiped under her eyes and pointed at Signe. "But don’t go soft on me. If you start calling me wise, I swear to god I’ll throw myself into the ocean."

Signe   let   out   a   snort,   shaking   her   head   as   she   toyed   with   the   straw   in   her   drink.   "Noted,   I'll   make   sure   your   tombstone   reads   ...Here   lies   Adriana:   a   menace,   not   a   criminal,"   she   teased,   glancing   up   and   fighting   a   smile.   Her   expression   turned   into   something   soft   as   Adriana   continued   to   encourage   her   developing   feelings   for   Charlie.   She   nodded   once,   and   then   paused   for   a   beat   as   she   chose   her   next   words.   "I'm   usually   a   lot   more   in   my   head   about   things   like   this.   But   the   way   he   looks   at   me   and   the   way   he   says   things   I   didn't   even   know   I   needed   to   hear,"   Signe   shook   her   head   in   slight   disbelief.   "It's   like   I   can't   think   about   anything.   I   just   want   to   let   myself   feel   it   all." Her   friend   launched   into   the   ski   mask   monologue   and   Signe's   laugh   came   again,   freer   this   time.   "You   are   absolutely   unhinged   and   I   adore   you,"   she   said,   her   grin   bright.   She   tilted   her   head   to   the   side,   observing   Adriana   carefully.   "You   always   say   the   right   thing,   you   know   that?   At   least   with   me.   Thanks   for   always   being   in   my   corner.   I   just   hope   I   can   be   half   as   good   a   friend   to   you   as   you   are   to   me."   Signe's   expression   grew   warmer   like   the   true   sap   she   was   and   squeezed   Adriana's   hand   right   back.   "You   need   to   stop   saying   I'm   growing   up   because   you're   making   it   sound   like   I'm   five."

[anchorsfm]

Charlie had been in his element. The plan they'd made days earlier for a bright and early match was exactly what he'd needed. He was still buzzing from the high of scoring when the ball was sent his way again, flying over his head and fast. He let out a breathless laugh and jogged after it, shouting over his shoulder, “Got it!” He didn’t, not really. Not when he rounded the corner of the path and nearly collided full-body into someone. His reflexes kicked in just fast enough to keep him from crashing into her, feet still moving in place, arms slightly flailed out to keep balance. "Shit, sorry.." He looked up and his whole body stilled. Gianna. Of all people. His stomach tightened, not with longing but with the memory of how badly they’d left things. He hadn’t expected to see her again, let alone run into her, literally, on what was supposed to be a simple Saturday match with the lads. Her voice hit first. Always quick, always a little biting, even now with surprise. But he was already stumbling through his own words, "I was just.." he gestured back toward the patch of grass, a breath of a laugh escaping him, light and disbelieving. "We’re playing a match. You know, lads, goalposts made of cones, proper scrappy setup.. like the old days." He tossed the ball back in the direction of the pitch, keeping his tone easy but distant. Then he straightened a little, jaw ticking once, politely neutral. "Didn’t expect to see you out here. This your usual route?"

status:  closed for charlie @anchorsfm location:  coral cove park

all    it    takes    is    one    look    at    her    smart    watch    before    she    crashes    into    the    person    right    in    front    of    her  ,    in    which    she    swore    the    path    was    clear    the    last    time    she    checked  .    luckily    she    manages    to    keep    her    balance    instead    of    falling    flat    on    her    ass  .    “    the    fuck    is    wrong—    ”    words    are    cut    off    mid    sentence     once    she    takes    a    closer    look    at    the    culprit    that    has    just    interrupted    her    morning    run  ,    who    turns    out    to    be    none    other    than    charlie  .    oh    great  ,    what    a    way    to    start    (    ruin    )    her    day  .    gianna    lets    out    a    heavy    sigh  ,    features    softening    a     tad    bit  .    “    where    did    you    even    come    from  ?    ”    there    is    no    malice    in    her    tone    this    time  ,    just    genuine    curiosity  .

[anchorsfm]

Adriana’s eyes flicked up to meet his, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You talk like a song I ain’t heard yet?" she laughed softly, lips curling into a sly grin. "Is that your go-to or just reserved for girls who happen to find you brooding on a bench?" She stepped in closer, slow, deliberate, until there was barely enough space for the air to breathe between them. "It’s not a bad line," she added, voice like honey. "Little cliché… but the delivery’s got potential." Her head tilted, brows lifting in challenge. "If you do know the chorus like you say you do, by all means, cowboy. Sing."

He moved with a confidence that made her falter, just slightly. She was interested as hell, a new feeling for Adriana. She paused, matching him with the kind of poised chaos that came naturally to someone who’d spent a lifetime learning how to make an entrance. Her heart was thudding against her ribs like it wanted in on the moment, but she kept her expression smooth. She turned out of the spin with a laugh that curled like smoke in the air, continuing the movement to lead them away from their meeting point, "Come on then," she called over her shoulder, tossing him a look that dared him to keep up. "There’s a wedding happening two resorts down. Oceanfront. Fairy lights. Open bar."

The music swelled louder with every step, bass thumping like a heartbeat, and when they reached the edge of the reception, Adriana slipped seamlessly into the scene like she was born for it. She plucked hors d’oeuvres from a passing tray with the grace of a practiced thief and leaned in toward a stranger, beaming wide. "Doesn’t she look just stunning?" she cooed, wiping a pretend tear from her eye. "We’re just so happy for them." As soon as they were clear, she popped the appetizer into her mouth and turned on him again, eyes glinting like she’d just pulled off the perfect heist. Her hands found his chest, slow and confident, as she leaned in like she had a secret to share. "So," she said, grinning up at him. "We drink, we dance, and we pretend we belong here.. or do you have some other brilliant plan for trouble?" She rose up just slightly on her toes, her lips near his ear. "Your move, cowboy."

his  grin  deepened,    the  kind  that  curled  slow  and  dangerous  at  the  corners,     like  a  cigarette  catching  flame.     his  eyes  never  left  hers,     locked  in  a  stare  that  was  part  challenge,     part  confession,     and  all  heat.     her  words  spun  through  the  air,    thick  as  humidity  and  just  as  electric,     and  he  stood  there  soaking  it  in,     like  a  man  who  knew  exactly  how  good  the  storm  was  about  to  feel.    “  first  name’s  adriana,      last  name  trouble.  ”     he  echoed,     voice  rough  like  asphalt  after  rain,     like  the  kind  of  gravel  that  left  marks  on  skin  if  you  fell  hard  enough.     he  let  the  words  hang  between  them  for  a  beat,     tasting  them,     letting  them  settle  like  smoke  in  his  lungs.    “  well,     hell,    trouble.     you  talk  like  a  song  i  ain’t  heard  yet,     but  i  already  know  the  chorus.  ”

she  swayed  and  sang,     hips  cutting  through  the  night  like  a  blade  dressed  in  velvet,     and  he  chuckled  low  in  his  chest,     the  sound  molten,    lazy,     wrapped  in  that  slow  southern  burn.     “  whitney  and  whiskey  in  the  air?     you  really  are  tryna  kill  me.  ”    he  didn’t  wait.     one  step,     then  another,     until  he  was  toe-to-toe  with  her  again,     their  shadows  tangling  in  the  moonlight.     his  fingers  slid  from  her  hand  to  her  waist  with  the  kind  of  ease  that  said  he’d  done  it  a  thousand  times.     the  pad  of  his  thumb  brushed  just  beneath  her  ribs,     like  he  was  grounding  them  both  before  liftoff.     “  you  want  trouble?  ”    he  murmured,     dipping  his  head  just  enough  for  his  breath  to  ghost  over  her  cheek,     “  then  let’s  set  the  damn  soundtrack.  ”

and  with  that,     he  spun  her  right  there  on  the  sand,     smooth  and  unhurried,     his  boots  tracking  lazy  circles  into  the  beach  as  if  he  owned  every  grain  beneath  them.     he  didn’t  care  who  was  watching,     if  anyone  was.     hell,     he  hoped  they  were.     because  when  she  smiled  like  that,     when  she  flirted  like  the  night  was  ending  and  the  world  was  on  fire?     he  wanted  to  be  caught.    “  you  lead,    trouble.  ”    he  drawled,     that  smirk  back  in  full  force.     “  but  don’t  expect  me  to  follow  nice.  "

[anchorsfm]

He bumped their noses gently, his voice lowering with affection. "Been your menace since day one, haven’t I, love? We sealed that fate early on. Now you’re stuck with me." Watching her cheeks turn pink as the surrounding tables turned toward them only made his smile stretch further. He’d never wanted to show someone off more in his life. When she hissed his name like it might save them from further attention, Charlie just laughed and leaned over, slipping the straw into her drink like it was a grand romantic gesture. "Too late. You’ve made it official now. Got yourself the full experience," he teased, pressing a kiss to her temple before settling back beside her.

He curled an arm behind her, letting his hand slip from hers to rest on her side. She felt like home already. "Oh, I can’t wait to see you up there," he said, nodding toward the stage, his eyes soft with admiration. "You got a song in mind, or are you gonna keep me in suspense?" When she leaned in and mentioned crashing at her boyfriend’s place, Charlie all but melted on the spot. That word, boyfriend, coming from her mouth? That was going to do permanent damage to his self-control. "Right, so that’s confirmed then? You’re comin’ home with me?" His voice dropped just slightly, all warmth and flirtation. "Guess I better warm up for another duet… or maybe just a private encore." Charlie laughed, raising his eyebrows at her. He leaned in, stealing another kiss, softer, drawn out like he didn’t want to let go just yet, "Before that," he ran a thumb along the side of her hip, "I think we still owe this bar a duet. Something ridiculous. Somethin’ we’ll remember even when we’re old and grey and you’re still pretendin’ I’m not your favorite person on the planet."

She   hadn't   expected   him   to   stumble   back   like   he'd   been   hit,   and   she   blinked,   startled   for   a   second   before   his   grin   broke   across   his   face.   Her   own   laughter,   giddy   and   breathless,   escaped   her   as   she   watched   the   way   he   absolutely   lit   up   from   the   inside   out.   As   he   melted   into   her   hands   like   he   couldn't   quite   believe   she   was   real.   "Yes,   you   dummy,"   she   teased,   her   fondness   for   this   man   on   full   display   as   she   brushed   her   thumbs   along   his   cheeks.   "I   said   yes." Kissing   Charlie   would   never   get   old.   Signe   could   only   sink   into   it,   her   arms   sliding   to   his   shoulders   and   gripping   him   like   she   needed   proof   this   wasn't   all   just   an   elaborate   daydream.   She   barely   had   the   time   to   catch   her   breath   before   he   was   leaning   in   again,   stealing   kisses   along   her   cheek,   jaw   and   finally   mouth.   Signe   laughed   against   his   mouth,   clinging   to   him   as   close   as   she   could.   "You're   such   a   menace,"   she   whispered,   her   voice   thick   with   affection,   "but   I   guess   you're   my   menace   now." And   then   he   was   announcing   it   to   the   entire   karaoke   bar.   Her   green   eyes   widened   as   people   nearby   turned   to   look.   "Charlie!"   she   hissed,   half-mortified   and   half-charmed   beyond   belief.   Her   hand   flew   to   her   face   as   if   would   help   hide   the   furious   blush   she   could   feel   creeping   up   all   the   way   from   her   neck   to   the   tops   of   her   ears.   Even   so,   she   was   smiling   —   that   helpless,   hopeless   smile   that   was   impossible   to   fake.   "What   am   I   going   to   do   with   you?"   she   muttered,   turning   to   hide   her   face   against   his   shoulder   as   she   fought   her   laughter.   As   he   slid   back   into   the   booth   with   her   and   interlocked   their   fingers,   Signe's   expression   softened.   There   was   just   something   about   the   way   he   kept   close   as   if   he   couldn't   bare   to   be   separated   even   for   a   moment. "Oh   you   know,   I   was   planning   to   get   on   that   stage   at   some   point   tonight,"   Signe   shrugged   nonchalantly.   "Then   obviously   I   was   thinking   about   spending   the   night   at   my   boyfriend's   place,"   she   teased   with   a   playful   smirk.   She   leaned   in   until   their   noses   brushed   and   stole   a   quick   kiss.   "I   wouldn't   say   no   to   another   serenade   from   you,   of   course."

[anchorsfm]

Charlie nearly toppled over at her answer, stumbling back with one hand dramatically clutching his chest like he’d just taken a hit. "Fuckin’ hell," he breathed, a grin splitting his face. "That’s a yes? You’re serious? You said yes." He laughed, pressing his cheeks into her hands with a rush of adrenaline and excitement. He laughed giddy and disbelieving, completely undone by her hands on his cheeks and the way she looked at him like she’d been waiting to say it all night. He leaned into her touch, pressing his cheeks into her hands. His heart was racing so fast it felt like it might jump right out of his chest.

And then she kissed him, hard and breathless. He nearly gasped against her mouth. His hands slid instinctively to her waist, holding her. He melted into it, like he had with every kiss before this and every kiss that was to come. This kiss sealed it. This one said we’re really doing this. When they pulled back, Charlie was buzzing. He leaned his forehead to hers, still catching his breath. "Well now, you’ve set a dangerous precedent. Gonna be real hard not to start singin’ to you every time I want a snog." His nose bumped against hers as he peppered another kiss to her jaw, then one to her cheek, then one back to her mouth, gentle this time, full of that slow joy that came with knowing she’d said yes.

"Signe Holström is my girlfriend," he spoke like he was testing the taste of it on his tongue, and he loved how it sounded. "Has a real nice ring to it." Still half-dazed, he turned to lean against the bar, catching the bartender’s attention with a raised hand. "Oi, mate. Can I get a straw for my girlfriend?" he called, loud enough for nearby tables to hear. His grin was completely uncontainable now, cheeks flushed with a boyish kind of pride. He turned back to Signe, lowering his voice with a chuckle. "I just wanted to say it out loud. You don’t actually have to use the straw." Charlie slid back into the booth beside her, interlacing their fingers easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed over her knuckles as he leaned in closer, voice softer now, "So… you got plans after this? Or do I gotta sing another Taylor Swift song?"

Signe   giggled   as   she   accepted   her   drink   from   Charlie,   nudging   him   with   her   elbow   as   he   sat   down.   “Be nice,”  she   chided,   no   heat   to   her   words.   It   was   true   the   girls   on   the   stage   were   making   an   unsuccessful   yet valiant effort   at   their   best   Cyndi   Lauper   impressions.   She   saw   the   mischief   sparkling   in   Charlie’s   eyes   and   couldn’t   help   her   answering   grin.   She   glanced   down   at   her   drink,   a   vodka   cranberry,   and   leaned   forward   to   take   a   sip   when   Charlie’s   name   was   called   to   the   stage.   Her   head   snapped   up,   immediately   placing   her   drink   down   on   the   table   as   she   stared   at   him   wide-eyed.   When   Charlie   had   invited   her   to   karaoke,   she   assumed   they   would   have   a   few   drinks,   enjoy   some   performances   and   then   maybe   partake   in   a   duet   or   two.   She   hadn’t   expected   that   he   had   a   solo   performance   in   mind.   He   stood   up   with   every   ounce   of   dramatic   flair   she’d   seen   him   capable   of   on   the   football   pitch   and   kissed   her   so   tenderly   that   it   felt   a   promise.   She   could   only   blink   after   him   as   he   made   his   way   to   the   stage.  The   second   he   stepped   up,   something   in   her   went   utterly   still,   wrapped   in   disbelief   and   awe.   Her   heart   thudded   painfully   behind   her   ribs;   her   entire   body   was   tingling   with   hyper   awareness   as   if   it   knew   something   was   happening   that   she   would   never   forget.  As   the   song   started,   laughter   bubbled   up   from   her   lips.   Her   mind   was   short   circuiting   with   how   to   respond;   caught   somewhere   between   amusement   and   stunned   affection.   But   then   Charlie   looked   at   her   and   started   to   sing   and   the   rest   of   the   world   fell   away.   Every   lyric   felt   like   a   confession;   he   was   telling   her   something   he   hadn’t   said   out   loud   yet.   Signe   could   feel   the   heat   in   her   cheeks   at   every   pointed   lyric   and   every   smile   he   gave   her. Of   course   he   would   sing   a   Taylor   Swift   song   to   her.  He   stepped   off   stage   and   made   his   way   back.   The   world   was   just   rushing   by   but   all   she   could   see   was   him.   Then   he   spoke   her   name   and   a   question.   Her   breath   hitched,   eyes   wide   and   her   chest   tightened   with   an   overwhelming   feeling   she   could   barely   contain.  “Yes,”  she   whispered   with   an   enthusiastic   nod.   Then   again,   firmer   and   surer,   as   she   reached   for   his   face,   her   smile   so   wide   it   ached.  “Yes!  Oh   my   God,   are   you   insane?  I   can’t   believe   you   did   that!”  Signe   kissed   him   before   he   could   tease   her,   arms   thrown   around   his   neck.   Her   fingers   tangled   in   his   hair,   anchoring   herself   to   this   plane   of   existence.   When   they   pulled   apart,   she   pressed   her   forehead   and   grinned,   whispering,  “I   almost   jumped   up   there   and   kissed   you   mid-chorus.   You know   what   your   singing   does   to   me.”

[anchorsfm]

Starter: closed ~ @ofresoluxe~

Location: Siren Karaoke Bar

Bright, colorful lights flickered across the ceiling like a disco ball, casting a glow across the floorboard of the karaoke bar. Two girls on stage were absolutely butchering 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'. Incredible commitment, tragically awful pitch. Charlie snorted as he returned to their booth, placing Signe's drink in front of her with a little dramatic bow. "Here’s your poison, Holström," he quipped, sliding into the seat beside her, his thigh pressing lightly against hers. "I got us both somethin’ strong enough to get through the next few performances without cryin'.." His eyes sparkled as the off-key shrieking hit its final note. "That said.. I’m clappin’ because it’s over, not cause it was good." Then the MC called his name.

Charlie stood slowly, deliberately, like he was preparing to enter the boxing ring instead of a karaoke stage. "Well then," he smirked before glancing at Signe with mock intensity. "You think you’re ready for the full Charlie Hughes experience?" He dipped forward, pressing a kiss to her lips, gentle, warm, the kind that lingered just a beat longer than it needed to. As he stepped onto the stage, the crowd fading, he grabbed the mic with an ease that said he’d done this before. Though maybe never quite like this. Never with her. The intro began, light and familiar, the unmistakable chords of 'You Belong With Me' by one of Signe's favorite singers. There were some laughs from the crowd, half ironic, half excited. Charlie didn’t flinch. He turned toward her, bringing his lips to the mic, "This one’s for you, love."

And then he started to sing. It wasn't perfect or polished, but it was earnest. Like he meant every word. His eyes never left hers as he hit each line, "She wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts." He grinned knowingly when the crowd started clapping along. He pointed right at her on 'you belong with me', his voice louder now, bolder, the nerves easing into something real. "Laughin' on a park bench thinkin' to myself, hey isn't this easy."

It was in the final chorus that something shifted. He stepped closer to the edge of the stage, one hand pressed to his heart like a joke that wasn’t quite a joke anymore. "If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along.." The last you belong with me softened and he held her gaze through it, his eyes shining with something that had been building since he'd caught her staring at a painting. The second the music ended, Charlie hopped off the stage. He made his way straight to her, chest rising and falling. "Right," he said, breathless from more than just the song, "So… I figure if your girl Taylor can say it, I might as well too..." He reached out, his hands finding hers, "Signe Holström… Will you be my girlfriend?"

[anchorsfm]

Starter: closed ~ @thalassafm~ Location: Ray Harbor Park

Charlie wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, his breath shallow and quick as he pressed his weight back into the defender behind him. Charlie, for better or worse, had let himself fall right back into that old rhythm. Fast feet, sharp mouth. A smirk curled at his lips as the man behind him gave an irritated shove. Charlie didn’t budge, he leaned in more, crowding the space like he had something to prove. The ball skimmed across the field and landed at his feet and that was all it took. He surged forward, a blur of movement and muscle memory, weaving through defenders with ease. The rush was there, intoxicating. For a moment, he wasn’t the version of himself with carefully rolled sleeves and practiced kindness. He wasn't the injured could've-been. He was just fast, dangerous, competitive. Until that same defender slid out and took him down hard. Charlie hit the ground with a low grunt, checking his knee with instinct.

The foul wasn’t subtle, and neither was the shout that followed it. The other man barked something, defensive, too proud, and Charlie was on his feet before whoever was pretending to ref could step in. "Got a problem, mate?" Charlie snapped, grinning in that way that wasn’t friendly at all. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp, and he stepped up into the man’s space with all the posture of someone looking for a scrap. "Yeah? Didn’t like bein’ left in the dust, that it? We compensatin' for somethin' here?" He didn’t notice the figure standing just beyond the sideline at first, jewelry glinting in the sun, arms crossed and unimpressed. Vic Holström had arrived just in time to see Charlie puffed up, posturing, and looking like the exact kind of boy Signe had been warned about.

[anchorsfm]

Jack let out a low groan, dragging a hand down his face. "If I hear one more student whisper ‘Mean Girls’ like it’s the holy grail of college theater, I might actually combust. The thought of painting the entire set bubblegum pink makes my eye twitch." He leaned back slightly, arms crossed with a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Ms. Arden wants something classic.. something she can write a grant proposal about without sighing. I told her I’m open. If you’ve got any dream titles or hidden gems, lay ’em on me. I’m all ears, Vic." Jack’s smile widened at their quip. "You have my word: Hamilton will never cross this stage as long as I’m breathing. Even if we could get the rights, which we can’t. And if I have to wake up one more time at three a.m. with Ten Duel Commandments rattling around in my skull, I’m handing in my resignation." He shook his head with a tired laugh. "Seriously. Throw out some ideas. The kids’ll follow if the story’s good. And I’d love something with a little grit next year. Something that makes ’em think without needing ten quick-changes and a disco ball."

CLOSED for @anchorsfm // JACK WALLER

   "Have  you  given  any  thought  to.what  you  and  Ms.  Arden  are  going  to  put  on  the  calendar  next  year  after  such  a  successful  spring  musical?"  Vic  was  impressed,  but  it  required  a  lot  of  forethought  even  on  their  part.  It  was  an  easy  start  to  the  conversation  and  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  before  it  changed  but  they  had  wanted  to  get  a  mental  head  start.  "As  long  as  Hamilton  is  NEVER  done  at  Coral  Cove,  I  can  maneuver."

[anchorsfm]

Adriana had spent years mastering the art of control, of knowing how to smile just right, laugh just enough, charm a room without ever letting it too close. But with him, all that polish slipped right off her shoulders. She didn’t want control tonight. She wanted trouble. Real, delicious, heart-thumping trouble. Her smirk stretched slow and dangerous, genuine grin barely hidden beneath it as she looked him up and down like she was appraising more than just the man, maybe the night, maybe herself. "Southern grit? Well, yee-haw," she teased, mock-sweet, her voice like smoke and velvet as her hand lingered in his.

She tilted her head as he looked her over, heart skipping against her ribs, but instead of retreating, she leaned in. "If we’re gonna crash a wedding or sneak into the kind of party with a guest list and a dress code, then maybe we need a wardrobe upgrade. Lucky for you…" She stepped closer, her breath warm between them, "I work in PR. I know a few options for some fun." Her fingers curled around his in a mock handshake, "First name’s Adriana," she said, eyes glinting like headlights about to take a sharp turn. "Last name’s trouble."

She felt the hitch in her breath as he moved in again, felt her pulse trip over itself, but her chin lifted, her stare locked on his like a challenge. She didn’t flinch. She flirted like it was a dare. "You don’t scare me," she said, voice low and rough around the edges. "I’ve been waiting for something like this. And if I have the option of dancing or sitting..." With a bold sway of her hips, she backed up just enough to tease him, and maybe herself, and broke into song with that same reckless grin, "Ooooh I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody." A breathless laugh cut through the lyrics. "C'mon, this is the perfect time to crash! Everyone’s definitely drunk enough not to notice us and they’re playing all the bangers. Come dance with chaos."

he  watched  her  with  a  lazy  grin,     eyes  sparking  with  mischief  as  he  took  the  blunt  back  from  her  fingers,     his  tattoos  flexing  as  he  did.     he  took  a  slow  drag,     holding  it  for  a  moment  before  letting  the  smoke  curl  from  his  lips  like  he  was  tasting  every  bit  of  chaos  she  was  promising.    "  damn,  "    he  drawled,     voice  low  and  gravelly,     "  i  didn’t  know  i  was  in  the  presence  of  the  queen  of  mayhem  herself.  "     his  eyes  flickered  to  her  extended  hand,     bracelets  clinking  with  each  defiant  movement,     and  he  chuckled,     deep  and  genuine  before  reaching  out  to  grab  hold  of  it  as  he  stood.     "  you  sure  you’re  ready  to  see  what  happens  when  you  invite  a  little  southern  grit  to  your  disaster  parade?  "

he  crushed  the  blunt  beneath  his  boot  and  straightening  up,     his  other  hand  sliding  into  his  pocket  as  he  considered  her.     the  ocean  breeze  whipped  through  his  hair,     salt  and  rebellion  heavy  in  the  air.     "  i  like  the  way  you  think.  "    he  continued,     stepping  closer,     boots  crunching  against  the  sand  like  the  beginning  of  a  soundtrack.     "  a  wedding  we  ain’t  invited  to?    hell,     i  can’t  remember  the  last  time  i  got  kicked  outta  somethin'  classy.  “    he  was  grinning  now,     something  wild  and  unrestrained  flickering  in  his  eyes.    ”  you  know,     i’m  startin’  to  think  you  might  actually  be  trouble.  "

he  took  another  step  forward,     bridging  the  space  she’d  left  between  them,     eyes  meeting  hers  with  a  dare  written  in  every  line  of  his  smirk.     "  but  i  gotta  warn  you,     once  you  start  dancin'  with  chaos,     it  don’t  let  you  sit  back  down.  "

[anchorsfm]

Charlie felt the warmth rise in his cheeks under Sigrid’s gaze, suddenly far too aware of himself. How he was standing, the flush on his neck, even the awkward way he held his hands, the obvious paint stain on his shirt. But he didn’t look away. There was a quiet grace in the way she carried herself, and it reminded him of Signe; grounded, observant, thoughtful. He gave a small nod at the mention of his name, his voice soft but certain. "Charlie. Yeah.. Uh, Charles but.. no one calls me that." A breath of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "She really is smart. Not just in the academic way.. she notices things. People. I think that’s even rarer."

At her question, he shifted his weight, the smile threatening to widen despite himself. "We have, yeah. Quite a bit, actually." He hesitated, searching for the right words, something worthy of the feeling he's been carrying for weeks in his chest. "I’ve been thinkin’ about askin’ her to be my girlfriend. To, you know… make it official." He laughed under his breath, a little self-deprecating. "Haven’t quite figured out how yet. I keep tryin’ to come up with something good enough, but everything feels like it falls short. She deserves the good stuff. I've got a whole task-force of friends tryin' to help." His tone steadied as he met Sigrid’s eyes again, his expression sincere. "I really like your daughter. Not just in the way people say when they’re tryin’ to impress a parent. I mean it. She’s different. She’s honest and kind and sharp and genuinely the funniest person I've ever met.. and she makes me want to show up better every day. I don’t take that lightly. I just.. wanted you to know that."

             there   was   a   mix   of   emotions   swelling   inside   sigrid   as   the   young   man   ,   charlie   ,   mentioned   signe's   name.   no   one   could   ever   be   emotionally   prepared   for   their   own   child   to   grow   up   and   find   a   person   to   create   a   life   with.   truthfully   ,   sigrid   didn't   know   if   she'd   ever   wished   for   it.   not   because   she   didn't   want   signe   to   be   happy   ,   quite   the   opposite   ,   but   because   there   was   no   way   for   sigrid   and   søren   to   be   100%   sure   that   the   person   she   chose   would   be   a   good   one.   such   was   the   pain   of   parenthood. "charlie   ,"   she   repeated   slowly   ,   tasting   the   letters   as   they   left   her   mouth.   the   cheeky   comment   about   the   mother   -   daughter   similarities   was   amusing   ,   but   sigrid   tried   to   keep   her   smile   at   bay   ,   at   least   for   now.   "she's   a   very   smart   girl.   very   attentive."   it   was   clear   as   day   ,   the   way   charlie   spoke   about   her   daughter   ,   that   this   was   not   some   fling   that   was   to   pass   in   a   few   weeks.   he   had   the   same   ,   terrifyingly   loving   ,   look   in   his   eyes   as   søren   had   had   ,   all   those   years   ago.   "you've   been   spending   a   lot   of   time   together   ?"

[anchorsfm]

Charlie snorted, kicking the ball lightly with the side of his foot. "I haven’t met Vic yet, but I’ll be on my best behavior. Tryin’ to keep my gold star record with the Holström family." He flashed a quick grin, but it didn’t stick long, especially not once Jones stopped mid toss to hit him with the full force of her stare. He threw his arms up dramatically, a mirrored picture of his younger self. "Oh, come on.. have you ever known me to be a relationship guy? I can cook a decent meal, sure. I can line up a decent playlist. Wine and dine is my specialty.. But that doesn’t mean I know what the hell I’m doin’ when it comes to all this."

His smile came easier as she talked about Signe. He didn’t say it, but the truth was obvious in the way his eyes lit up. Jones had clocked it before he even admitted it to himself. Then, classic Charlie, he surged forward and kicked the ball out from under her foot, trying to distract from how much of his heart was suddenly hanging out of his chest. "I don’t think it’s juvenile," he said, breathless from the drill, “I just… I’ve never had to ask someone to be my girlfriend like, properly. I didn’t have the time for dating before. And now I’m here, and she’s this.. this person, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I want to do it right." He stopped dribbling the ball, letting it roll to a slow spin in the dirt. His voice dropped a little, sincerity cutting through. "So how do I do it, Jones? Like actually. ‘Cause I’m properly fucked here. She’s incredible." There was something in the way he said it, half hopeful half terrified, that made it clear this wasn’t just a crush. This was the real thing, and he knew it.

When Jones started talking about missed things, childhood do-overs, swimming with dolphins, Charlie’s expression shifted. He slowed his movements, nodding, "Yeah," he murmured, "I get that. That’s what Mum always says. Get out there.. Make up for lost time.. Talks about therapy like it’s a spa day. I'm still duckin’ it, but maybe you’re right." He tilted his head at her, a small smile creeping in. "So you’re sayin’ I just ask her? Like plain and simple? A real grown-up Will you be my girlfriend?" He blinked, half in awe and half in dread. "Why am I embarrassed? Or nervous? I don't know what I feel." He let out a groan, dragging both hands down his face. "Bloody hell. This is why I need you. You keep me from spiralin’ straight into.. what was it? Male pattern idiocy." A breath later, his voice softened. "Thanks, Jones. Really. For this. For lettin’ me be all tangled up about it and being weirdly nice." He kicked the ball toward her again, eyebrows raised. "Alright, then. One more run, then I’m takin’ your advice and makin’ it official. You can even help me plan it... if you promise not to roast me too hard. You're on a winnin' streak right now, don't break it."

   Jones  threw  her  hands  up  in  surrender,  "thank  fucking  God  'cause  I  was  going  to  beat  your  ass  right  here  and  now.  That's  crazy.  Small  world,  huh?"  It's  then  that  she  goes  to  steal  the  ball  from  Charlie,  knowing  he's  caught  off  guard  and  wanting  to  both  physically  and  metaphorically  shake  off  the  energy  of  thinking  about  either  of  her  parents  and  the  vast  network  of  people  they  knew.  That  she  knew  by  extension.  It  was  easier,  to  COMPARTMENTALIZE,  let  the  world  pass  by  but  also  detrimental  to  her  personal  life.  "Søren  is  really  a  gem  of  a  man.  The  whole  family's  pretty  interesting?  Vic's  a  bit  weird,  I  don't  know  if  you've  met  them  yet.  That's  who  you  may  want  to  watch  out  for.  Streets  were  saying  they  broke  into  a  monastery  because  the  acoustics  were  better  than  the  studio  they  were  in."  The  pink  haired,  tatted  and  pierced  sister  of  Søren  was  hilarious  juxtaposed  to  the  sheer  girl  dad,  wife  loving  energy  that  Søren  had  always  given  off.

   Focusing  on  the  ball,  Jones  balanced  it  on  her  right  toe  for  a  moment  before  letting  it  fall.  Focus,  Joanna.  Focus.  This  was  not  the  time  for  her  to  lose  focus  and  crumble  in  a  conversation.  Though,  she  knew  she'd  be  safe  to.  It  was  not  her  moment  --  it  was  Charlie's.  Luckily,  he  made  it  easy  for  her  to  be  snapped  back  into  reality  when  he  asked  if  he  had  to  ask  Sigrid  to  be  his  girlfriend  officially  or  not.  If  she  had  been  roasting  him  before,  it  was  nothing  compared  to  what  was  to  come.  Her  foot  stomps  on  the  ball,  securing  it  to  the  ground  in  front  of  them.  "You're  telling  me  you  did  the  whole  'Rom-Com'  thing  on  the  beach  and  you're  asking  ME  if  you  need  to  ask  HER  to  be  your  girlfriend?"  It's  then  she  starts  to  laugh,  actually  laugh  because  men  were  hilariously  stupid  sometimes.

   "Does  Signe  strike  you  as  a  vibes  and  assumptions  type  of  girl?  You're  literally  looking  at  art,  trying  to  understand  symbolism  and  metaphors  but  can't  see  the  obvious.  Work  on  that  before  trying  to  get  into  art,  for  real.  Because  yes,  you're  gonna  need  to  ask  her  to  be  your  girlfriend  properly  --  especially  if  you're  doing  the  real  relationship  thing.  Especially  when  you've  talked  to  her  dad  already,"  a  laugh  comes  from  her  again,  this  time  disbelieving  as  she  becomes  more  passionate  in  her  response.  "Listen,  I  know  you're  not  stupid  just  nervous  but  this  is  a  new  level  of  MALE  PATTERN  IDIOCY  that  you've  unlocked.  Signe  better  be  thanking  me  after  we  get  this  figured  out."

   Finally,  her  tone  softens  and  her  hands  rest  on  her  hips  as  she  considers  her  next  words.  "It's  not  juvenile  to  ask  her,  Charlie.  My  therapist  has  been  telling  me  for  years  it's  actually  good  to  do  the  things  we  didn't  get  to  do  when  we  were  younger  but  as  adults.  I'm  supposed  to  go  to  Disneyworld  soon.  Eat  some  shitty  food  at  the  parks.  Maybe  go  swimming  with  a  dolphin,  I  don't  know.  It's  weird  but  it's  normal.  Maybe  the  swimming  with  the  dolphins  isn't  everyday  normal  but  you  get  what  I  mean,  RIGHT?"

[anchorsfm]

Charlie’s breath hitched at her words, his smile soft and stunned. "You can't just say shit like that and expect me not to swoon over ya," he murmured, his voice caught somewhere between teasing and awe. His thumb traced circles at her waist, grounding himself in the feeling of her, in the unbelievable fact that she was here, choosing him. He smiled, a softness she somehow managed to continue to drag out of him, the kind he used to shove down like it was something to be ashamed of. He'd relished in the moments when she'd made him forget about his father drilling into him that softness meant weakness. With Signe, it didn’t feel like a flaw. With her, it felt like a strength. She didn’t just let him be that version of himself, she wanted him that way.

Charlie's jaw dropped at Signe's impression. The laugh that shot out of him was all light and no restraint, his head dropping back against the couch as he grinned. "You takin’ the piss, yeah? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were mockin' me." His eyes crinkled with pure affection as he glanced over. His laughter died down the moment she shifted beside him. The playful spark in his eyes dimmed into something lower, deeper, as her fingers ghosted along his neck, his immediate reflex of tilting his head to the side as she leaned in. His hands found her again instinctively, steadying her at the curve of her hips, his touch reverent and slow. As she moved to straddle him, Charlie let out a breath through his nose, the kind that said you’re killing me but please don't stop. His hands slid from her waist to her back, his touch both firm and adoring, like he didn’t know what to do with all this closeness but didn’t want to let go.

"I meant all of it.." he said quietly, eyes locked on her mouth just before she kissed him. "I’d do either. Again and again. Just as long as it’s with you." He hummed, his arms enveloping her waist as he looked up at her. The kiss was light, but it undid him anyway. His arms tightened around her, and when she pulled back, Charlie couldn’t stop the grin that overtook his face. "You know," he said, voice rough with fondness, "I never would've guessed that you'd be the bad influence here." He leaned up to press one more kiss to her lips, then whispered against her skin. "But I’d rather be yours than be good."

Signe   smiled   softly,   watching   the   flicker   of   pink   on   Charlie's   cheeks   as   something   fluttered   in   her   chest.   It   felt   like   a   precious   secret   —   like   this   was   a   side   of   him   very   few   people   got   the   chance   to   see.   Her   fingers   brushed   lightly   along   the   collar   of   his   shirt   as   she   leaned   back   just   enough   to   take   him   in.   "You   make   it   easy   to   be   brave,   Charlie,"   she   admitted,   quietly,   almost   more   to   herself   than   to   him.   God,   she   liked   him   so   much.   It   drove   her   just   a   little   bit   insane. She   giggled   as   Charlie   seemed   genuinely   loss   for   words.   She   couldn't   understand   that;   how   this   man   who   had   clearly   lived   and   experienced   life,   could   be   flustered   by   something   as   simple   as   her   kiss.   "You   short   circuit   me   too,   you   know.   Saying   things   like   'I   can't   see   myself   bein'   anywhere   else,'"   she   said,   mimicking   his   accent   to   the   best   of   her   ability.   Her   Scandinavian   accent   gave   her   a   little   difficulty,   but   she   thought   it   was   a   rather   impressive   Charlie   impression. Her   eyes   twinkled   with   mischief   and   tilted   her   head   to   the   side,   her   fingers   dancing   along   the   back   of   his   neck.   "So,   when   you   say   you'd   like   to   do   this   again,   do   you   mean   this...?"   Signe   trailed   off   and   gestured   to   the   apartment   around   them.   "Or   this?"   She   managed   to   shift   their   positions   so   she   could   straddle   his   lap,   her   arms   around   his   neck   and   leaned   in   to   brush   a   light   kiss   to   Charlie's   lips.   Signe   smiled   into   the   kiss   and   pulled   back   just   far   enough   to   look   into   his   eyes.   "Because   I'm   definitely   not   opposed   to   more   of   either."