35 ᴍᴍ ꜰɪʟᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ I 🎀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈 [𝑔𝓍𝑔] 🎀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑: 𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 13

The morning light filtered through the curtains of Gracie's living room, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Charlie-Wren stirred awake slowly, still half-draped across Gracie, their legs tangled under the blankets. Last night felt like a long-needed exhale—a moment of relief, warmth, and forgiveness after so many months of tension and pain.

For the first time in a long while, Charlie felt lighter, like the weight of everything she'd been carrying had lessened, even if just a little. The air between them had shifted, softening with unspoken promises, and their connection renewed after so much time apart. But now, as the morning arrived, it was quiet again. Peaceful.

Charlie blinked sleepily, stretching as she shifted out of Gracie's embrace, careful not to wake her. She glanced around the room, her eyes adjusting to the soft light. As she sat up and pulled the blanket closer around her, something caught her eye—a small, sausage-shaped blur moving across the floor.

It was a dog.

Charlie's sleepy brain took a moment to register the sight in front of her. The tiny, brown Dachshund was waddling across the room with surprising determination, her short legs working quickly as she sniffed around. Its big, floppy ears bounced with each step, and its nose twitched as she explored the room.

Charlie blinked again, sitting up straighter. "What the fuck...?"

The dog looked up at her, pausing mid-sniff as if she had just noticed there was someone new in the room. Its eyes were wide and curious, and she tilted her head slightly, as if studying Charlie. And Charlie couldn't be more confused; she just kept staring out of not knowing where else to look.

Gracie, still half asleep beside her, stirred at the sound of Charlie's confused voice. "Mmm, what's wrong?" She mumbled, her eyes still closed as she shifted under the covers.

Charlie pointed towards the dog, her voice low but incredulous. "Gracie, why is there a dog in your house? Is that yours or did it break in?" Gracie chuckled sleepily, her lips curving into a small smile as she blinked her eyes open. "Oh, that's Weenie," she said casually, as if it explained everything.

Charlie turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Weenie?"

"Yeah," Gracie murmured, finally sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "He's my little Dachshund. I thought I told you about him."

"No," Charlie said, shaking her head, still watching the dog. "You definitely didn't tell me about Weenie." She let out a soft laugh. "I mean, Weenie?" Gracie giggled softly, clearly still waking up. "Yeah, it fits him, doesn't it?"

Weenie, as if realising she was now the centre of attention, trotted over to the bed, his little legs moving quickly as he reached up on his hind legs, paws pressing against the side of the mattress. He let out a small huff, looking up at them as if to say, Don't forget about me.

Charlie laughed; the sound was light and easy. "Okay, I'll admit, he's pretty cute. But 'Weenie'? Really?"

Gracie grinned, fully awake now. "She's a weenie dog! It made sense at the time." She reached down, scooping up the small dog and placing him on the bed between them. Weenie wiggled happily, immediately curling up in a little ball and wagging his tail, clearly enjoying the attention.

"He's so small," Charlie said, reaching out to gently pet him. Weenie sniffed her hand first, then nudged its nose against Charlie's fingers, clearly deciding that she was friendly enough. Charlie couldn't help but smile as the dog settled down beside her, his soft, warm body snuggled close.