Smile [Caspar Lee]

i. "can a girl not look at her pants?"

 

this is dedicated to @eventide who shares caspar lee with me 

caspar lee is askljdhfkdhs ok? if u don't agree i ask that u fall in the hole nearest to you :)))) jk but seriously he's awesome which is why i'm writing this -- well, along with the fact that there are like no good caspar lee fanfics and it's horrible. he deserves good fanfiction about him so this will hopefully be good. this won't officially start for some time bc i want to finish my harry styles fanfiction, pour [that's on my main account @believeinmeee]. there might be some sporadic updates. anyways, vote/comment if you like this chapter! :-)

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i.                    “can a girl not look at her pants?”

 

“DON’T TOUCH my make-up, Caspar Lee!” Charlie yelled, snatching a tube of eyeliner away from Caspar, who in turn gave her a very sad pouty face.

“Why do you even have this stuff? You never use it,” his South-African accented voice asked.

She shrugged as she stuffed the eyeliner tube back into the drawer of her vanity. “I dun’ no, just in case I have to wear it for a wedding or something. My Mom got all of it for me and it’s really expensive, too, so I make sure to keep it safe.”

Charlie never did wear make-up. She was too lazy to put it on and it seemed like such a hassle. Her Mom, however, was completely upset to have a daughter who didn’t like/wear make-up. Her Mom was a complete girly-girl, and it’s not the Charlie’s a tom-boy or anything but the fact that she didn’t like make-up killed her mother. She wanted a daughter who loved make-up and shopping and fashion and things of that sort. Charlie was completely content with a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from Target; she just didn’t care all that much.

“Well, I don’t think you need this stuff. You’re beautiful,” Caspar remarked, smiling at the blue-eyed girl. Charlie looked down at the ground in an attempt to hide her blush, but Caspar knew her too well.

“Aww,” he cooed, “you’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not! I-I’m just, uh—I really like my pants. Can a girl not look at her pants?” Charlie replied, raising her eyebrow at Caspar Lee.

He looked her dead in the eyes as he said, “I think that’s the stupidest cover-up I’ve ever heard.”

Charlie burst into laughter and Caspar did as well, unable not to because of Charlie’s loud, contagious laugh. After a full minute of laughing, the two left Charlie’s bedroom and ventured into the kitchen, food in mind.

As their feet padded along the cherry-colored hardwood that was all around Charlie’s house Caspar didn’t hesitate to bump his hip against hers, something he always did when they walked. Charlie smiled softly as she returned the bump much harder, making Caspar crash into a wall. The room erupted into laughter—Charlie’s laughter—as Caspar gave her a dirty look and took the hand she offered to help himself back up.

“Those hips of yours,” he muttered, “they could kill someone.”

“Don’t be jealous because your hips lie and mine don’t,” Charlie joked, bumping her hip against Caspar’s—lightly this time.

“Your jokes are so corny. I actually wonder why I’m friends with you sometimes,” he replied, shaking his head at her.

She grinned. “You know you love them.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, cracking a smile and winking at the girl.

They smiled at each as they entered the kitchen. Suddenly, Caspar ran over to the counter, scrambled on top of it, and struck a pose that Charlie guessed was supposed to be sexy. She began laughing as Caspar put on a “sexy” facial expression. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Charlie.

“Take a picture of this and put it on instagram with the caption ‘#slutstagram’,” Caspar ordered, laughing before putting his supposedly sexy facial expression back on.

Charlie did as told, taking the picture and posting it with Caspar’s wanted caption. A mere second passed and the picture obtained over one-hundred likes. In the past this used to boggle Charlie’s mind, but she’d gotten used to it.

Caspar hopped off the countertop and took his phone from Charlie, grinning as he probably gave himself a mental pat on the back for taking such a great photo—well, his idea of a great photo.

“A brilliant photo and a brilliant photographer,” he stated, smiling at Charlie.

She eyed him suspiciously. “A ‘brilliant photographer,’ huh?”

“Yup, you’re great.” He walked closer to her. “Pretty, smart, funny, and a great photo-taker.”

“Okay, tell me what you want.”

Caspar put on a hurt expression that Charlie couldn’t tell differentiate from fake or real because  he was so damn good at looking upset. Charlie often told the boy that he should be a soap-opera actor but he dismissed the idea, saying the shows were “too dramatic”—funny words coming from the king of drama.

“I am so hurt that you think that I’d only compliment you to get something from you,” he told her, his hand over his heart. “I think that you should make a sandwhich to make it up to me.”

There it was. “Of course.”

**    **   **

Caspar groaned as he clutched his full stomach.

In the span of thirty minutes Caspar had made Charlie make him five sandwhiches, claiming that he was so hurt from her lack of faith in him that just one sandwhich wasn’t nearly enough. Now, the boy was barely able to walk as he was so immensely full.

“Okay,” he said as he got up and began walking out of the kitchen, “I think I’ll be on my way.”

“Going to sleep off the food?”

“Yup.”

Charlie laughed, shaking her head. She put her hand on his back, guiding him through the house and ignoring the strange feeling she had in her stomach. Once she walked him to the door, Caspar turned and enveloped her into a hug.

“Thanks for the sandwhiches and overfilling the capacity of my stomach,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Caspar Lee,” Charlie smiled.

The blue-eyed boy opened the door and began walking out. However, he stopped almost immediately and spun around to face Charlie, his eyes wide as he seemed to have remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, all my YouTube friends are coming by tomorrow!” Caspar reminded her excitedly. “Your house is way bigger than mine and usually empty so I thought I’d invite them here. That’s okay, right?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

“Great,” he smiled. He leaned in, giving her a friendly peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Charls.”

“See ya,” she smiled, waving to the blonde-haired boy.

He left out the door and Charlie walked over to the living room and slumped down on the couch. Caspar’s YouTube friends were coming. Whenever they came Caspar barely spoke to Charlie. It was as if she was invisible, only appearing to him whenever he needed something from her. The last time they came they stayed for a week. The only communication Charlie had with Caspar that week was a few text conversation that were short-lived due to one of Caspar’s YouTube friend’s taking the phone and texting her, ‘Caspar Lee is not available right now. Please leave a message after the beep. BEEEP.’

Charlie’d be fine though. They were only coming for a day—at least that’s what she thought.