You wished you could say the night had gone to plan. That as you were getting ready, you still couldn't believe it was real. Charlie surprised you with a hotel for the night and Abba and Papa came into the city for the night to watch their favorite grandson. With it being your first awards show and what Charlie hoped to be the first of many grandiose nights out together, he had his heart set on spoiling you. Which is exactly why he fought with you to hire someone to professionally do your hair and makeup.
Tonight's red carpet was far more intimidating than the first you'd encountered with him. The flash of bulbs and cries of "Turn this way!" "Mr. Barber! Over here!" assaulted your senses and it wasn't until you were finally seated that the two of you found some solace.
He was silent as he sat beside you, the look in his eyes all too telling. Even though you'd only witnessed it on rare occasions, you knew--Charlie was nervous. He reached into the inner jacket pocket of his tuxedo, patting to ensure the folded piece of paper was still there.
"I don't know why I wrote a speech," he admitted, trying his best to remain hushed. "This thing's been burning a hole in my pocket since I put it in there...and I hate what I said...what if--what if I jinxed myself?"
"Honey, you didn't jinx yourself."
"I wouldn't be too sure. I was saying the name of the Scottish play in my head like a mantra on the ride over."
His voice was so tight with stress you weren't sure if he was trying to lighten the mood or being serious.
"I'm kidding...I didn't."
"Oh."
"But I'm thinking about it now."
You reached over, wanting to reassure him, as you placed your hand over his. "No matter what happens, win or lose, it's not going to be because you had a speech in your pocket. This award doesn't say anything about your abilities."
"It says everything about my abilities," he interjected.
"What I mean is--we're here now. Let's enjoy the evening, come what may."
He lifted your hand and brought it to his lips. "I love you."
"I love you too...and I'm proud of you, no matter what."
The show rolled on. So far a play with Glenn Close headlining was sweeping all of the categories. Donna had done some of her best work with costume design for Exit Ghost's production so when they read off the nominees, Charlie was almost certain they'd snag the Tony for that one, but alas--they were overlooked. One after another, nominee after nominee, Glenn's play continued to sweep.
By the time the presenters reached "Best Direction of a Play", it was easy to see why Charlie wasn't feeling confident. The nominees were listed off one by one and his hand gently squeezed yours when he heard his own name. You were both holding your breath. The show was incredible. He deserved this. You so badly wanted for him to win. The presenter stepped up to the microphone a second time, envelope in hand, and tore it open.
"And the Tony Award goes to..."
--
After the show, the champagne was free flowing at The Carlyle. You were surrounded by nominees and winners alike in various points of celebration, all basking in the afterglow of the evening's events. Charlie held you close as you swayed to the music coming from the large grand piano. "I don't know about you," he muttered. "...but I've about had my fill of this. You want to get out of here?"
You stared back at him, wide eyed. You didn't understand. This was his night. This was his moment and the only thing he wanted to do was go back to your room. "You don't want to stay? Mingle a bit?" He smiled, knowing you were enjoying the ambiance--and not just the ample amount of Broadway elite floating about. "So long as I can continue directing shows I'm proud of, with a little luck, we'll be here next year and the year after."
It wasn't that Charlie wasn't enjoying himself. He was savoring the moment while he was still in it. Remembering the good times before the fun was even over. "We will?"
He playfully furrowed his brow. "I should certainly hope so. I know I'm not going anywhere."
--
As much as it pained you to leave the glitz and glamour of the after party behind, you couldn't deny how great it felt to take off your heels. Charlie shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and laid it over the chair near the entryway, toeing off his own shoes once he was done.
"You know, I've been meaning to tell you all night," you said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I love the way you fill out that tux."
"Oh you do, do you?" he asked, waltzing into the bedroom holding a bottle of champagne.
You smirked, leaning back. "Where did you get that?" He shrugged, grinning. "Charles Douglas Barber. Did you swipe that from the party downstairs?"
He shot you a toothy grin. "Charlie!"
"I asked if I could take it..." He said, matter of fact.
"Uh huh."
"And even if I hadn't, I would have asked them to charge it to the room." He traipsed over to the mini bar and picked up the two glasses sitting on top. "Care for a drink?"
He was holding the bottle and the glasses with one hand and there was something just so inexplicably sexy about it. Charlie could make anything seem tiny in those paws, his favorite parts of your body included. You nodded as he pulled on his bowtie, the material falling loose around his neck, before he tore the thin metal sheath from the top of the bottle and popped the cork. The liquid bubbled in the glasses and he held one out to you. He leaned down to steal a kiss before you rose from the bed and raised your glass, your eyes peering into his.
"To you, my love. May your directorial endeavors continue to flourish and be recognized by the American Theatre Wing."
Charlie stepped in closer, his eyes flickering to your lips before he made a toast of his own.
"To us. May we always celebrate and share this night and every night together, every year, for many years to come."
You stood there studying his face. The way he was looking at you made the butterflies in your stomach flutter to a brand new routine. He clinked his glass with yours, making sure to never break eye contact, and brought it up to his lips. He quietly huffed out a laugh, eyeing your glass and making you realize you hadn't even sipped the champagne yourself. You took a taste.
"Mmm."
"Good, isn't it?"
Suddenly it didn't matter to you if he swiped it or not because the drink was as crisp as it was refreshing. You finished your glass and Charlie did the same.
"You want another?"
"Maybe in a minute."
Charlie took your glass and set it down with his on the sideboard next to the television before coming back over to silently wrap his arms around your waist.
"I love you so much."
"I love you too."
He was staring at you adoringly, like you were the only other person in the world. You could feel his hand leave the small of your back and watched as it slowly reached into his pocket.
Was Charlie about to propose?
You couldn't remember a time when you felt this anxious...or this scared.
"Oh my god..."
You could see it. Something black was coming out of his pocket. Your heart was determined to pick up and leave your chest. You sharply inhaled, feeling tears beginning to sting your eyes. But it wasn't what you thought. His brow quickly knitted together. "You okay, my love?" You watched as the black object fully revealed itself; it was and had always been his phone.
You nodded, lightly touching the corners of your eyes. "Yeah. Just a little emotional. I'm so proud of you." There was no need to tell him. It wouldn't change anything.
"I just wanted to check on Henry," he said, flicking through his messages. "I know we already said goodnight, but.."
"No, it's okay. You miss him," you said, affectionately running your hand over his bicep. "When we--when you become a mom, you'll understand." He smiled and put his phone away. "You always look forward to the nights when you get to go do adult things, but there's nothing like coming home and tucking them in, knowing they're safe."
"I miss Henry when he's not here, too." Your confession made Charlie's eyes light up.
"You do?"
"Always. I know he isn't mine, but...I love him like he is." His eyes turned watery as did his smile as he moved in closer. You could tell he was building up courage.
"Well, maybe we'll have one together...one day."
"One day...but not tonight."
He let out a laugh. "Not tonight. Tonight's about us."
"Nope, you."
"I beg to differ."
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before walking out of the bedroom for a moment and returning holding his Tony Award, sporting a full grin.
"So...where are we going to put this thing?"
--
You soon polished off the bottle of champagne and after a couple of rounds of 20 questions and 'Never Have I Ever', Charlie suggested you break into the mini bar. You were on the bed, flat on your stomach with your feet crossed in the air behind you, looking over the room service menu. Charlie was next to you on his back; both of you were still fully dressed and more than a wee bit tipsy.
"Why does everything sound so good?" you asked, your mouth practically watering over the thought of onion rings.
"Because we're a little drunk," he replied, snickering. You both fell silent before bursting into a fit of giggles.
"I want a cheeseburger."
"Oh my god, yes." He rolled over to see the menu. "Artisanal barbecue chicken flatbread. That sounds good. Nachos? We should get those too."
"This is getting expensive."
"Run up a tab. We're celebrating."
"We're drunk."
"Because we're celebrating..." He hummed and licked his lips. "Hmm...we should make a baby. I should put a baby...in you."
"What?"
"We can put a cheeseburger in you first. I'm hungry, too."
You playfully rolled over, pinning him underneath you. "Just how drunk are you anyway?"
He gave you your favorite smile. "Oh, I'm drunk...drunk enough to know I'm drunk, but sober enough to remember everything about tonight...and you. I could never forget about you."
You smirked as you ran your hands up his arms, bringing them where you had hoped would be pinned over his head. However, in your slightly sauced state, you miscalculated their length and the length of the bed. You both giggled as they dangled off and did the next best thing--which was securing the crooks of his elbows to the mattress with your hands.
"I thought you were hungry," he murmured, his eyes dead set on your lips as he leaned up to kiss you. You lowered your head, more than happy to meet him halfway.
"I am."
--
"Fuck, baby. I love the way you take my cock. You take every inch for me, don't you?"
Grunts spilled from Charlie's lips as he slammed into your cervix again. He was intoxicated further by the sight of himself being swallowed up by your tight cunt. "I only wanna fuck this pussy. Wish you could see how gorgeous you look." You whimpered as he filled you up. Your skirt was bunched high around your waist, giving Charlie full access to have his way with you. You were gripping the sheets, doing whatever you could to maintain balance as the sheer force of his thrusts sent you forward, your tits bouncing in time with the rhythm of his hips.
"Charlie..."
You loved when he took you from behind. The way he'd forget where he was, lose track of time, and fuck you with reckless abandon. Sometimes you would dream about feeling him completely and utterly use you, the lingering sensation of him buried inside long after he was finished with you, even after his cum had long dribbled out. You moaned loudly, not caring about the sounds other guests sharing a wall with you might hear as he barreled into you over and again. He wrapped his arm around your middle and draped himself over your back. Charlie's thrusts were getting sloppy and wanted to be closer. He was using himself as an anchor, pulling your body back onto him, gliding your tight heat over his cock.
"Oh-oh-oh-OH-FUCK! Charlie! Pleeease!"
Your staccatoed moans were music to his ears as he gave into your every whim, practically pummeling your insides as he enthusiastically pumped his cock in and out of your greedy pussy. He reached between your legs, still spread wide for him as your arms and legs began to shake, and started working quick circles over your clit.
"Charlie," you whined. "My arms might give out."
His fingers continued moving along your tender little bud. He dipped down beside your ear, his teeth grazing over the lobe as he panted. "I've got you, baby. I've got you."
You were whimpering, your insides throbbing and overstimulated. Your cunt had almost all it could take. You could feel yourself getting saddle sore, but the fine line your body danced between pleasure and pain had never felt so good.
"Please," you cried, your arms slipping down the comforter.
"Please, what, baby?"
"Please let me cum."
Charlie was getting close himself. "Say it again."
A pleasured wail escaped your lips. "Please."
"Please?"
He rolled his hips a little harder.
"Please let me--Fuck! Charlie! Please let me cum!"
Just a little more. That's all you needed. You were almost there. It only took his fingers making a few more tight circles, teasing the hood of your clit, to have you seeing stars. Your mewls rang out in the space, your arms fully giving out as your cunt started pulsating around his thick length. You were already so tight, even more so given the angle, so when you finally came there was no chance Charlie could last. He groaned loudly as his cock twitched, his cum spurting deep inside your pussy as he held onto you for dear life.
After he caught his breath, he moved off of you. His seed was slowly leaking out of you as you laid with your ass in the air, your face still smushed against the comforter. You jumped when you felt his lips press against the curve of your ass, making Charlie chuckle. He was bent over, inspecting his handiwork, something made even more apparent by the feeling of his fingers at your entrance toying with his own cum.
"Beautiful."
The mattress dipped as he rose from the bed and came over to help move you into a more comfortable position. When you seemed satisfied, he crawled back up and laid down beside you, his lips leaving featherlight kisses on both of your cheeks.
About that time, the phone next to the bed rang. Charlie haphazardly reached for it, the haze of alcohol causing him to need a few tries before successfully grasping the receiver and bringing it to his ear.
"Hello? Yeah, this is Mr. Barber...Uh huh...Oh. Great. Thank you." He hung up the phone, sitting up to use both hands to place it back on the cradle before leaning back over to kiss you fully. You smiled up at him, your heart beating faster seeing his rosy cheeks and knowing how he got them. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "Food's here."
--
You were coming up on a 4 week hiatus for SNL which meant more time to spend with Charlie and more time for family as a whole. Father's Day was today. You and Henry had planned out all of the best surprises for the person you both deemed "the best dad in the whole wide world". You had started the morning cooking together. Albeit, trying to make eggs benedict with an almost 10 year old proved to be a little more difficult than you thought.
"I can crack the eggs."
"I would love that. We have to be sure when we do that to separate them carefully, okay?"
"What does that mean?" Henry's being inquisitive never failed to make things more fun. "Like this?" He took two eggs and moved them far apart from each other causing you to giggle.
"Not exactly," you said, picking up one of the eggs to show him. "We take this bowl and crack the egg on the side like this." Henry leaned closer to get a better view of your demonstration.
"Uh huh."
"And, you see how the yolk and the white are still in one."
"Some of it fell into the bowl."
"That's okay."
"I see it."
"So what we do now is..." You began sifting the whites out, letting the drip down into the bowl while the yolk went back and forth between pieces of shell. "Get the yolk all by itself. Like that."
"What do we do with the rest of the egg?"
"We can save them to make meringue cookies later." Henry looked down at the egg white and made a face in disgust.
"This looks like snot."
You snickered. "You have a very vivid imagination."
"Thank you." He peered at the yolk left in one half of the shell. "So what do we do with this then?"
You smiled. "Can you pick up that other bowl over there?" Henry did as you asked, bringing the small ceramic bowl closer. "Thank you. Now, we put the yolks in here and when we get enough, we can make the hollandaise."
"Can you teach me how to make it?"
"I can try. It's harder than it looks. Even for me."
"That's how I feel about reading," Henry said, picking up another egg and cracking it the way you did.
"We can work on your reading together if you want."
"I'd like that."
His tiny hands did their best to sift out the whites, but the yolk slipped away from him.
"Uh oh."
"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "We can scoop it out easily. Do you want to do it?"
"How?"
"Just cup your hand like this and go underneath and scoop it out. And if you get any white, let it fall out between your fingers the same way we did with the shell."
Henry does as you instructed, carefully picking up the yolk and giggling all the while.
"This feels like snot too."
Just then, Charlie's deep baritone voice, thick with sleep came booming into the kitchen.
"What are my favorite people up to?"
Henry tittered. "Dad. Go away. We're making a surprise."
"A surprise, huh?" Charlie asked, coming closer. "Can I help?"
You turned to face him, smirking. "No, silly. That's why it's called a surprise."
Henry wiped his hands on a paper towel. "You want a coffee? I can make one for you. I know how to make the best coffee ever."
Charlie beamed. "I know you do, honey. And sure, I'd love a cup."
"Wash your hands, please." you said, imploring him to not give his father the gift that kept on giving--salmonella.
Henry quickly washed up and prepared Charlie's morning brew in the brand new mug you purchased together for him for his special day. Charlie smirked as he took a sip and inspected the outside of his new cup. "Are these--superhero puppies?"
Your tiny sweetheart nodded excitedly. "Yeah. They are. I picked it out myself."
--
You soon discovered Father's Day to your boys meant Charlie spoiling Henry because without him he wouldn't have a reason to celebrate. With that in mind, he had a couple of choices for the day's activities and ultimately decided on the Central Park Zoo. Once Henry had his fill, it was off to Shake Shack to stop the growl of empty tummies.
Charlie wanted to stop by the restroom before you headed on your next adventure, leaving you and Henry alone at the table. "I wanna go," Henry whined.
"I know you do. Your dad will be back soon and then we can leave."
He pushed the last bits of his frozen custard around in the cup with his straw. "There are dogs outside. Can we at least go see them?"
"Maybe in a minute, okay? Let's wait for your dad."
Henry let out a well exaggerated sigh and grumbled, "He's taking forever!" He leaned back in the booth and let his body slide down a little.
"Henry." He looked at you, surprise in his eyes. Your tone was more authoritative with him that it had ever been before and it was for that very reason he chose to push your buttons.
"You're not my mommy."
"Henry, honey, I know that."
"I don't have to do what you say."
The sass disarmed you. You had no idea where it was coming from or what triggered it, but something in that moment made Henry decide that you and your opinions could travel elsewhere.
"I'm going outside," Henry announced, matter of fact.
"Henry, no you're not. We're staying here."
He hopped out of the booth and stood there, challenging you. "I'm going outside and you can't stop me." You barely had time to register what was happening before he took off running. Panic and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your lunch threatening to make an appearance as a wave of nausea came over you. Charlie was going to come out of the bathroom and both you and his son would be missing. Nowhere to be found. You ran as quickly as your legs would carry you after Henry and when you finally spotted him, he was stopped on the sidewalk some feet ahead of you, idling by the crosswalk. The dogs he'd made a fuss about sitting in the restaurant were almost to the other side.
"Oh dear god...HENRY! STOP!"
You could tell by his stance he was about to take off in a full sprint. The signal was changing and traffic in the area was thicker than usual for the time of day. You ran faster than you ever had before because your life depended on it. Tears were streaming down your face. You had to get there. You had to make it. You had to.
You heard Charlie's voice ring out more fearful, more desperate than you'd ever heard.
"HENRY!"
His little feet carried him out into the street, the shrill honk of a horn making him freeze where he stood. The taxi was not even a foot from him when you managed to grab his shirt and yank him out of harm's way, both of you falling backward, you onto the pavement and Henry into your lap.
The moment he realized he was safe, he was sobbing. The taxi hadn't even tried to stop. You were furious and horrified all at once. He could have died. You weren't even sure he realized the magnitude of the situation or how close he had come to grave consequences, but he sat there squalling in your lap all the same.
"Henry! Why would you do that?! Don't ever run into the street!" About the time you realized you were admonishing someone else's child, Charlie made it to you, came down to your level, and snatched Henry up by the shoulders, holding him tighter than the day he was born before pulling back, teary-eyed himself.
"Don't you ever, EVER do that again! Do you hear me? You KNOW better! You KNOW not to go into the street like that! What the hell were you thinking?! You could have been hurt! Do you understand that?!"
Henry burst into tears again and threw himself against Charlie's chest.
"I-I'm s-sorry, D-Daddy," he choked out. "I just w-wanted to s-see the dogs."
As he cradled his son, he looked over at you. You could tell he was angry and trying to keep his emotions under wraps for Henry's sake.
"Did he get away from you?" Before you could even open your mouth, he spoke again. "Why were you even outside?"
Henry sniffled. "I ran outside to see the dogs." He wiped his nose on his dad's sweater and ran his fists of his tear stained cheeks. "She told me to wait, but I didn't..." He hiccuped. "I didn't wait."
Charlie's gaze softened and he pulled Henry back once more.
"Look at me." Henry did as he was told. "She might not be Mommy, but she is like a mama to you, isn't she?" Henry sniffled and nodded. "If you're with her, she's an extension of me so if she says no, it's like I'm saying no--whether I'm there or not. Do you understand me?"
Henry hiccuped again. "Yes."
"Are you going to run off like that again?"
"N-No."
"Are you going to behave and do what she tells you to, even if I'm not there?"
"Yes."
"You promise?"
"I promise, Daddy."
"Good."
Charlie stood and helped Henry up, kissing the top of his head as he looked him over to make sure he was okay before reaching out to help you up as well. You could tell he was about to apologize as he dusted you off, but you shook your head politely. It wasn't needed. He understood completely and gave you a soft kiss before hoisting Henry up onto his hip and walking with you to the subway.
--
The moment you made it home, Henry went to his room to play at Charlie's behest. Once you were alone, he took you into his arms, thanking you profusely for saving the son, in his eyes, you now shared.
Later that night, long after Henry had gone to bed, you were working on folding a few loads of laundry. Charlie was in the bathroom, showering last as he always did. You heard the water shut off and in walked your love dripping wet. His brow knitted together when he saw everything you accomplished while he bathed.
"Honey, you didn't have to do that. I told you I was going to help once I got out."
You turned to him briefly and smiled, pairing his socks. "I know, but I thought we could snuggle sooner if I got this out of the way."
He wandered over to you, stark naked, and pecked your lips. "I like how you think." He picked up a pair of briefs from the bed and stepped into them, but not before receiving a playful pop on the ass from you. He made his way back to the dresser to retrieve pajamas as you gathered up hand towels for the kitchen. He stopped you once he pulled everything on, taking everything from your hands.
"Hey. Let me. I need to make a call anyway, so I'm heading that way."
You nodded and folded the remaining shirts. "Uh, you can leave my stuff there if you want. I can put that and everything else away when I come back. Towels too."
You smiled and leaned up for a kiss. He happily obliged and rubbed his nose against yours. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Be right back, my love."
While Charlie chatted away in the living room, you decided now was as good a time as ever to brush your teeth, do your nightly skincare routine, and get ready for bed. You could hear him lightly chuckling, a sound you never grew tired of. Whoever it was really amused him. You walked into the living room for a moment and he acknowledged you instantly.
"I'll be right there, baby." He turned back to his phone conversation. "She's good. I will--hang on." He tilts the phone at an angle. "Alex says hi."
You quirked an eyebrow. "Hi to Alex." Was he talking to your brother?
"She says hi." He smiled and mouthed, 'love you' before jumping right back in. You gave him some privacy and returned back to the bedroom. Considering Charlie was still engrossed in his phone call, you thought you'd put things away to clear the bedding so you could crawl in and wait for him. After a while, you were tired of not being able to sprawl out on the comforter. You lifted your tired body from the bed and gave a good stretch, hoping the man you couldn't get enough of would be joining you soon.
You had almost finished making sure everything was where it belonged when Charlie waltzed back into the bedroom.
"Sweetheart." He frowned, taking note of how much you did waiting for him to return.
"Hi baby."
"You didn't have to."
"I know," you interjected. "But I wanted to lie down and I can't get cozy if we have clothes all over the bed."
He sighs and comes over to embrace you in a warm hug. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't think my call would go that long."
"It's okay. It happens." You debated whether or not to ask, but curiosity got the better of you.
"So, who's Alex?" Charlie pulled back huffing out a laugh.
"Funny."
"Why? Do I know them or something?"
By now he was grinning. "Try 'related'."
You crossed your arms. "Wait, why are you talking to Alex?"
Charlie picked up the remaining items on the bed and tucked them away into their respective drawers. "He and Sonya were wanting to see a show and he wanted to know if I had any pull."
"Which show?"
"Hamilton."
"Did you tell him we haven't even seen Hamilton?"
"I did."
You pulled back the comforter to crawl into bed feeling slightly embarrassed your brother was using Charlie's new status to his advantage. "I'm sorry he asked for something like that. I'm actually a little surprised."
Charlie plugged in his phone and snuggled in close. "Don't be. I'm not. He's family."
You moved to lay your head on his chest, saying nothing. "Does it bother you, my saying that?"
"Not at all," you muttered, enjoying the sensation of his finger splayed out across your back. You laid in the silence, content to be listening to the sound of his heart beating before you peered up at him.
"Charlie?" Your voice was timid.
"Yes, my love?"
"Can I ask something?"
He smiled, stroking your cheek. "Anything and always."
You didn't even know why you wanted to know, but a part of you needed to.
"What do you email Dad about?" A soft chuckle escaped his chest.
"Would you like to read them? The emails?" Charlie began to reach for the iPad on the nightstand until you reached over to stop him.
"No, honey. I didn't mean--I never need to see or read any of your private emails. I love and trust you. Personal emails are personal for a reason. I shouldn't have asked. It was--curiosity, mostly."
In that moment, you hid, burying your face in the softness of his sleep shirt. You were so afraid he'd compare you to her. It wasn't until you peered up to see him staring back at you that you knew, in his eyes, you weren't then and would never be anything like her at all. Your relationship, at its core, was different. The foundation you had created, despite its swift construction, was unshakable.
"You."
"Me?"
The warmth of his smile spread across his face. "We talk about you. Sometimes we share recipes. Sometimes, it's a joke one of us heard that day. We've been taking the time to get to know each other. I try to answer every question he has for me, and there are a lot, even if I don't have the answer, and...you."
His hand lovingly caressed your face again.
"I could spend my whole life talking about you." You leaned up to kiss him and he gladly returned it with every ounce of love he had to give.
"Can I show you something?" You nodded and he moved a second time to pick up the iPad, this time opening his email app and pulling up something from your father. Their email chain had pictures of you when you were younger and as much as you wanted to call your dad in the morning to scold him, the smile on Charlie's face made you decide against it.
He scrolled to one of you with pigtails in kindergarten. Your snaggletoothed little smile was front and center. "This one is my favorite."
He continued scrolling through their email chain until he found what he was looking for. "Now, before I show this to you, I want you to know this was your dad's doing, not mine."
"Just show me, baby," you said, your voice playful and mild. In the email body was a photo of you from first grade next to one of little Charlie. He was beaming and his adorable ears were on full display.
"You think they would have played together? If time didn't exist and they grew up together?
"Oh yeah."
"Me too."
---
A/N: So--Who wants to get a drink with Charlie? 😍
You are all so amazing! I wanted to say thank you to every single one of you. Writing this and seeing your reactions have been a constant source of serotonin for me. I hope this brings you as much joy as you've all brought me these last few months.
I've already started writing 35 so get ready for some excitement! 😎
Big thanks again to Nicole, Amber, and Cat for all of your help throughout this process!