Charlotte would've rather spent her time alone on Halloween. Snuggled up on the couch watching scary movies, taking her time to empty a bottle of wine while laughing at the stupid choices the characters made. Her best friend, Marjorie, had somehow convinced her (or dragged her to) to go to some huge house party. She was less than impressed by the fact she had to go out and spend money on a costume.
Yet there she was, fretting over her hair and if the thigh highs worked with her outfit or not. Charlotte stared in that mirror until she absolutely hated what she saw. But nevertheless, she had to be at the house in 20 minutes so not much time to change or find something else.
Char straightens her halo as she tugs the white slip down to her mid thigh, causing it to show more of her chest. Oh those freckles displayed across her body like little paint splatters. God had really taken his time sculpting her and making her. She was nearly perfect in the same way that the fireflies dance around in the night.
Charlotte was never much of a party animal but Marjorie sure was. She often was dragged to parties she could care less about with Marj making empty promises that she'd 'find someone to have fun with.' Easy for Marjorie to say given every party they'd end up at, she'd have her tongue down Autumn's throat after a shot or two.
So when those two were off in some rando's bedroom with the door locked, she'd be stuck hanging out with some rather unsavory men. One in particular, Dean, always quite liked Charlotte and time after time would try to get under her skin. Ever since they ended up playing 'Never have I ever' and everyone found out Charlotte had a tattoo, he was relentless. Absolutely determined to see this little piece of art on such a pretty girl like Char.
Climbing into Marjorie's car, she could already see the excitement in her eyes. She was her wingman, or well, she always attempted to be. It never quite worked out for Charlotte though and she'd end up stuck with someone who she had no interest in. At times it could be comical, but she wasn't in the mood tonight. She just wanted to have a few drinks here and there, dance a little bit and go home in time to light her candles at 3am the next morning.
Marjorie almost immediately starts to talk about Dean and how Charlotte should just give him a chance, or well, take a 'joyride.'
"Marj! You know I am NOT that kind of girl. To me, it's-"
"It's what's inside that counts... yeah, yeah. We all bleed red, darling, get any more specific and you'll be really lonely."
"I'm gonna be okay, I promise... Besides, I'd rather chew off my own leg before ending up with that douche."
"Dean isn't that bad!"
If looks could kill, Marjorie would've been dead in an instant. Lucky for her though they had pulled up in front of the party. Charlotte's attention was immediately pulled towards this small makeshift stage where there was loud music blaring. She winces a bit, knowing this will only end in a headache.
And as she finishes getting out of Marj's car, she ends up bumping into Dean. She almost recoiled as their skin made contact but instead she forced a small smile, whispering an apology. Much to Charlotte's displeasure, he brings her even closer with a firm hand on her lower back.
"Oh don't apologize, babygirl, I don't mind when you're all over me like that."
She shivered, she hated when Dean sexualized every little thing she did. Even if she was attracted to him, it drove her away.
"Haha... My bumping into you was just my way of getting my hands on you, sure."
"And look at you now, you can't keep them off, can you?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes, her hands came up to his chest to push him off but it didn't put much distance between them.
"In your dreams, Dean."
