teenagerenegade | (no subject)

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sabrina

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When it's cold out, they eat lunch in a corner of the art room, the teacher permissive when it's kids that she likes. Charlie is sitting at the table they usually colonise, a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo propped open in front of him, a bag of potato chips torn open to one side. He's not sure whether he's beating Rosie, Sabrina, neither, both. But he figures, if he's here, then at least they don't have to go looking for him.

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"No part of me is surprised by this, by the way," says Charlie, huffing a laugh at her. He closes his book altogether - pretty sure he's not going back to it now she's hear. "Let me look, properly. Give me a spin."

"You know me all too well at this point," she answers, "maybe I should be trying to inspire some mystery?"

She spins for him, though, slow, and then fast enough that her skirt flies out and she can give a little wiggle, strike a pose. "What do you think? Can you even stand to look at me, now that I've become one of them?"

"Knowing you is one of the loveliest things in my life, Brina," he says, with a little smile. He leans his chin into his hand and watches her as she spins. "Oh, yeah, I'm pretty sure I can stand to look at you. Especially if you keep wiggling like that."

She's stopped twirling, mostly because she's standing there, looking at him with wide eyes and a soft smile. "You're still pretty smooth," she tells him, walking over to tip his face back for a kiss. "Someone's gonna have to spot me, or, something like that."

He leans up to kiss her, smiling against her mouth.

"Spot you?" he says, eyebrows raised. "I have...literally no idea what that means."

Since she's there already, of course, she drops lightly down into his lap.

"I don't know exactly, yet," she says. "I thought maybe it'd be a sexy thing to say." She giggles. "I'm actually supposed to learn how to do all these flips and things, I think the spotter makes sure I don't crack my head open."

"Yeah, I think you might actually want someone who knows what they're doing to do that job," says Charlie, wrapping his arm around her and pressing a kiss against her jaw. "But I will totally watch you roll around in that skirt all you like."

Sabrina laughs, turning her face toward him like a flower to the sun, her own arm looping around his neck. "I suppose that would be good, since a broken arm or leg would really cramp my style."

She kisses him sweetly. "I did think you might be up for that."

"It's one of those basic fantasies that's sort of hard-wired, isn't it?" he says, grinning, pushing her hair back with his fingers so that he can kiss the side of her neck. "I bet it'd work on Nick, too. Do you even...are cheerleaders even a thing at the Academy?"

Sabrina can feel her whole body thrumming with happiness, in these sorts of moments-- though to be fair, she might be thrumming with something else, too. Her eyes close as she leans into Charlie.

"Cheerleaders, no. An intense dedication to elaborate, risque costumes? Yes. Talk about hard-wired."

"Then I'm sure he'd be super into it," says Charlie, flashing a grin. "It's very cute. You're very cute." He gives her a quick squeeze.

"You're obligated to think I'm cute," Sabrina says, laughing, but she's perfectly, delightedly charmed. "But it's a good thing you do, considering you're stuck with me for life." She's still giggling as she noses against his neck.

"That doesn't mean that I'm not right," he says, grinning at her. When she says for life, maybe that ought to be alarming at the age that they are, but Charlie feels the certainty of it sink into his chest, warm and comforting.

"Definitely a good thing," he says.

"You're right," she allows, mostly because she's just caught what she's said too.

And she means it, of course, and so she presses their foreheads together a moment, not really saying out loud that something important has passed, but feeling it anyway. "Ever think you'd wind up with a cheerleader?"

"I never thought I'd end up with anyone before Susan," says Charlie, huffing a laugh and brushing his mouth against hers. "You really are underestimating how unpopular I was back home, Brina."

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