The day began normally enough. She's been called into Mer's place, to apparently, talk her and Cristina off the proverbial ledge.
Walking into her friend's bathroom, she could hear the Asian woman complaining, "Look, the problem is estrogen."
"No," argued the other one, "The problem is tequila."
Their attention was drawn to her when she chuckled, shutting the door behind her and taking a seat beside the older blonde, "The problem, as I see it, is that you're both idiots with boners for men with more power than you. And on top of that, neither of you know how to effectively communicate, which makes relationships hard."
"But, you get us." Whined the curly-haired one, from her seat in the shower.
"That, darling, is because I am like you. I just chose to not engage in an emotional relationship, because I know I'm currently not equipped for it. That being said Cris, get the hell out of the shower, this is bordering on pathetic, and while we may be heartbroken whores who like tequila to a detrimental effect, we are not pathetic."
"I used to be all business, and then he goes and gets me pregnant."
Mer raised her head, supplying them with the important distinction of, "With the stupid boy penis."
"Now, I'm having hormone surges. He ruined me. I'm ruined. He turned me into this fat, stupid, pregnant girl. Who cares! Estrogen!" Screeched Cris, before sliding the door shut.
Shaking her head at the sight, Charlie stood up, dragging the blonde with her, before shoving the shower door open, and pulling the other one out.
Lining them side by side, she began her lecture, "Listen to me, both of you. We are surgeons. We are taught to shove emotions aside and continue with our lives, and while men are idiotic, and their penises even more so, we are not. So pull on your big-girl thongs and bras, and get a move on it. I've made breakfast and coffee, it's in the kitchen. Soak up the hangover, and stop being pathetic, the both of you. We've got lives to save." Raising a single brow, she looked them straight in the eye, before asking, "Understood?"
They nodded in unison, as Cris mumbled, "For such an unfairly beautiful woman, you are terrifying, Sherlock."
Heading down the stairs, she nodded in accomplishment at both Izzie and George, before Mer whispered, "I feel empty."
"Yes well, I've heard that burying your head into a bottle of tequila like a deranged ostrich can do that."
She shook her head, leaning it on the British girl's shoulder sadly, "No, I feel empty."
Cristina mimicked the motion of Charlie's other side, grumbling, "You're lucky. I feel pissed off."
v^√√v^─√v^√v^─
It didn't end that well, however.
She was in the locker room, having just changed out of her scrubs and into civilian clothes, when George pounced on her, picking her up and twirling her around in a hug.
Giggling, she asked, "Georgie-baby, put me down! What has gotten into you?"
The man laughed boisterously, placing her on the bench and taking a seat beside her, a large smile on his face, "I just save a woman's life! This couldn't get better!"
"I know, I heard. I'm proud of you George, you're gonna be the best there is in surgery once we're done, I guarantee it."
His eyes softened, and he cleared his throat nervously, before stating, "I uh, I broke up with Olivia."
"Couldn't deal with the Syph and Karev mixed together?"
He chuckled, shaking his head, "That, and I just. I have feelings for someone else, and it wasn't fair to her."
Charlie tilted her head playfully, "Feelings? For whom, George O'Malley, and how am I just finding out now?"
"She's...she's the smartest person I know. Like she knows everything. And she's kind too, so kind and empathetic, but its usually hidden under a layer of snark. And she's got this way to getting to us, you know? You making us realise we're being idiots, or whatever, because she knows us so well. And...And I really like her."
Charlie smiled, not understanding she was the ever elusive girl he was talking about, "Well, whoever she is, she'd be lucky to have you."
He leaned in close, before laying his lips over hers. Softly, tenderly. As though she meant everything.
Charlotte Hawthorne had never been kissed with such emotions, and for a moment, she dreamt of what it could be like to keep going, to be the person. He deserved.
But she wasn't, and so, she pulled away, a certain sadness in her eyes.
"Georgie..." she whispered, watching as he began freaking out slightly, and apologising.
Placing her hand tenderly on his cheek, she continued, "It's not you. It's me. And I know its a cliche thing to say, but it is the truth. I...I am not ready for anything George, I'm still too damaged, too...emotionally unstable. And you deserve the moon and the stars themselves, which I can't give to you. It's not because I don't share your feelings, I do. But it wouldn't be fair to you."
The man shook his head, "But we could try, right? If the feelings are there, then that's all that matters!"
"It's not. Love alone means nothing. And I know myself, I wouldn't give you what you deserve, and I would never jeopardise what we have now for a maybe. Please just...please understand."
He stood up, nodding sadly and packing up his things. As he walks to the door, head tilted down, she asked, voice small, "Are we...do you think we're okay?"
"I don't know, I, uh, I need some time." Was his answer before he sat the door, leaving Charlotte Hawthorne on the bench he'd kissed her on, tears rolling down her cheeks.