charlie
Charlie is already halfway to the cabin door, stomping through the snow in a pair of fuzzy, rhinestone-studded winter boots that look more fashion-blogger than mountain-survivalist. They’re warm enough to keep her toes alive but foolish enough that any local ranger would take one look and worry for her life choices. She’s holding her phone out like a co-star, curls bouncing, her breath puffing in shimmering little clouds as she narrates her own entrance to her viewers.
Lyra’s cheerful call hits her ears and Charlie’s entire face lights up like someone just plugged her into a generator. She pivots toward the sound, phone still lifted so every last one of her viewers gets a full, unfiltered glimpse of the moment. "Ooooh look, here comes company!" she chirps to her stream, voice bubbling with delighted mischief as she angles the camera toward the approaching ranger. "And she’s cute, my god—everyone say hi!"
Then she waves at Lyra with a bright, sparkling "heyyyy!" that rings through the trees, her free hand lifting high enough that her sleeve slips back to reveal the rhinestone bracelet she absolutely did not pack for mountain practicality. "You’re early!" Charlie calls out, beaming as if Lyra has shown up to Charlie's birthday party with her favourite flavour of cake.
A beat (in vibe, not sentence structure) passes while she milks the moment for dramatic timing, then she laughs; a bright, tinkling laugh that seems to warm the entire snowy clearing with nothing but enthusiasm. "I’m supposed to get, like, locked out, or lost, or the power’s supposed to go out before the hot ranger arrives to save the day!" she clarifies, projecting the line with theatre-kid flair straight into both the cold mountain air and her phone camera.
Then, with a wink so exaggerated it could probably be seen from orbit, she adds: "So you’re early, babe!"
Lyra’s cheerful call hits her ears and Charlie’s entire face lights up like someone just plugged her into a generator. She pivots toward the sound, phone still lifted so every last one of her viewers gets a full, unfiltered glimpse of the moment. "Ooooh look, here comes company!" she chirps to her stream, voice bubbling with delighted mischief as she angles the camera toward the approaching ranger. "And she’s cute, my god—everyone say hi!"
Then she waves at Lyra with a bright, sparkling "heyyyy!" that rings through the trees, her free hand lifting high enough that her sleeve slips back to reveal the rhinestone bracelet she absolutely did not pack for mountain practicality. "You’re early!" Charlie calls out, beaming as if Lyra has shown up to Charlie's birthday party with her favourite flavour of cake.
A beat (in vibe, not sentence structure) passes while she milks the moment for dramatic timing, then she laughs; a bright, tinkling laugh that seems to warm the entire snowy clearing with nothing but enthusiasm. "I’m supposed to get, like, locked out, or lost, or the power’s supposed to go out before the hot ranger arrives to save the day!" she clarifies, projecting the line with theatre-kid flair straight into both the cold mountain air and her phone camera.
Then, with a wink so exaggerated it could probably be seen from orbit, she adds: "So you’re early, babe!"
I'll be honest, Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense
Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in
Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
