It was one of those mornings.
Those mornings where you woke up slowly, the amber-yellow heat of the sun shining through the windows softly. Those mornings where it was peacefully quiet, bare feet pattering against the floor as you made way out of bed.
It was a spoon-to-bowl clinking, glass-pouring, warm smiles, messy hair, soft conversation kind of morning, and you loved it. It was so much better then the mornings you spent at your own apartment, stressed and awoken by loud alarms.
You had awoken to Charlie missing from his bed, his spot empty and beginning to get cold. You assumed a man of his profession and environment was a early-morning type of lifestyle.
Eager to see him once more after a long night of slumber, you set out to find him, standing from his bed and making your way into the short hallway.
His crinkled white t-shirt hung just above your knees, your long hair a morning-hair mess. You used the elastic on your wrist to pull the rat nest back, eyes searching for the gentle-giant.
You eventually found him outside on his patio once more, the patio door jarred open just a crack. His large back faced you, a cigarette burning between his two thick fingers as he spoke on the phone to someone.
His tall frame was hunched over the railing of the patio, his raven hair pushed back in its own version of bed-head. He was barefoot as well, still dressed in his joggers and matching white t-shirt.
You pushed the patio door open with a squeak, your small frame moving past it. Your own bare feet pattered to stand beside him, your head gingerly resting against his large and muscled arm.
His head snapped towards you, his eyes wide for a moment before a sweet smile spread on his face. He brought his cigarette to his lips, taking in a short inhale.
"Yes, yes, that will be fine. I'll pick him around the afternoon, but it might be a late night at the theatre tonight. I'll have his babysitter here though, so it won't be an issue." Charlie spoke almost formally.
You watch his lips purse as he exhaled the smoke, a cloud hovering in front of him for a few seconds. You basked in the smell of him — cigarette smoke, mint toothpaste, and his natural musk that had gathered overnight.
"Okay, yes, that's fine. I'll speak to you later." Charlie continued, hanging up a minute later and tucking his phone into the pocket of his joggers.
He eagerly turned towards you, wrapping his free hand around your waist. He dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, replacing it with a cigarette after.
"Who was that?" You asked softly, looking up at the man who towered almost a whole foot above you.
"Nicole." He answered briefly, not going into any more detail then that. You accepted his answer with a nod.
There was a silent moment before you spoke again. "Do you smoke often?" You ask him, glancing over at him.
He offers a casual shrug, taking another drag before blowing the smoke out. "Sometimes, just depends. Why, sweetheart?" He answers.
It was your turn to shrug. "I just thought I'd ask. I could smell the cigarette on your clothing last night and was just wondering."
His brows raise, an amused look on his face. "I suppose you could also smell the beer too." He snipes back, letting out a shy chuckle.
You offer him a small smirk. "No judgment here. I like the smell of them anyway...it reminds me of home." You confess quietly.
His soft eyes study you for a few seconds. You could see his brows furrow in question and probably concern, but he didn't want to intrude.
YOU ARE READING
PUT ME IN A MOVIE - Charlie Barber.
Fanfiction" Lights, camera, action....he didn't know he'd have this much fun..." Recovering from his divorce, Charlie had fallen into bad habits - smoking again, drinking again, and not prioritizing his time with his son, Henry. Charlie was desperate for a...
