all that cheap talk, cold walks, and cigarettes {closed}

Once he was shooed of and realized he'd be of no help, Dublin gave up and sat at his small kitchen table and watched as Charlotte worked. He could swear the tune she worked to was familiar, but he couldn't remember the origin. She shuffled around and worked magic in his kitchen in a way he had never managed to before. It was amazing, honestly.

When she put the plate down in front of him, he couldn't help feel a bit excited, anticipating the food he'd been waiting for. "No worries. Besides, I bet it's worth the wait." He grabbed his fork and broke off a piece of the chicken before taking a bite. He closed his eyes and smiling contently as he chewed. "Mmm. Come live with me and be my personal chef, please." He joked, opening his eyes and giving her a soft smile.

"Maybe if you pay me." Lotte rubbed her hands together enthusiastically as she sat down to eat as well. There was a moment of silence as she took her turn to eat the food, but she made sure to give her appraisal with a sharp 'mmm.' Then, the dull clatter of plate and fork, and she dug in, cutting away at the small chicken breast she prepared.

"I can pay you with my thrilling company and fulfilling friendship. What more could you ask for?" He said between bites after taking a sip of water. His expression was one of mock hurt. Still, he couldn't hold it for long before his expression fell back to a content smile as he enjoyed his meal in the long spaces of comfortable silence between them as they ate. It was rare to feel like he'd known her for so long when it had only been earlier that day they'd met.

What more could she ask for? Lotte stopped eating for but a second, looking up and back down at her plate, at the rapid chance that the day had taken. The sun had already set and the moon showed its dental white gaze over their sleepy, secluded town. It was already night; they had been together for a while. When was the last time she had spent that much time with a person? She loved people, she missed people. "Yeah," was her simple, soft reply, and her eyes shone bright with happiness and mist.

There was a gentle beauty in the moment that Dublin was almost scared to break. The soft look in Charlotte's eyes, the comfortable silence, the twilight outside, signifying how long it had already been. He hadn't noticed the sun set, but once he did he felt as though he was keeping Charlotte. It was difficult to ruin the moment, but he stood and gathered the empty plates and headed to the sink. Once he returned, he smiled softly and stuffed his hands in his pockets, a bit uncertain what to do next. "You can stay awhile and take pictures or talk, if you want." He wasn't too keen to run her away, enjoying the company he found in her. Dublin hadn't realized how lonely he'd been till he ran into her.

"Take pictures?" Charlotte stayed at the table, thinking of helping him with the plates but seeing him handle them. She set there, chin in her palms, head tilted slightly as she flashed him an inquisitive smirk. "Is there anything to take pictures of? Do you want me to make an album of you?" Under the table, her boots audibly scuffed the floor in an weightless swinging.

Dublin's smirk mirrored her own as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I mean there's my amazing home decor and my brilliant looks to take advantage of here. It's really a generous offer I don't give to just anyone." He teased, noting the scruff of her feet on the floor and wondering if her feet touched the floor. "But if you really want to, you're welcome to make an album of me."

Charlotte stared at him for a while with catlike eyes, a Cheshire smile. She moved her head from time to time, looking at his jawline, the way his face moved, how he stood, all the while leaned forward as for as she could in her sitting position. All at once, however, she threw herself back on the chair, letting it balance off and on two legs. "If I want to make an album of you, I won't tell you," she said finally. "It's gotta be natural. You'd look good natural." If that made any sense. It definitely did to Charlotte.

There, she stood, looking up at his clock. "Give me your arm," she said suddenly, with a nonchalance that suggested he should have known why she needed it. Like it was customary, that he should do it without question. She began fumbling through her bag, into the small compartments.

Dublin was a bit caught off guard with the comment. He didn't mind, however. If she wanted to create an album of candids, he was happy to oblige if it meant he was in her company. "Go right ahead, then."

He was a bit confused as she rose suddenly, but he simply nodded and followed, doing as she asked and tilting his head in question as she rummaged through her bag.

Out of her bag came a marker. When she found it she picked it up, slinging it over her shoulder along with the remainder of her grocery items. "It's late, I should be going," she told him, and with her tongue peeking out of her closed mouth, she wrote on his arm her phone number, and when she was done, winked at him. "Call me if you're ever bored," she said with a small grin, a compact sort of smile. With a wave, she backed out of the his apartment, and closed the door slowly, standing there for a while. That was nice. She didn't expect that.

She walked out of the apartment with a giddy pep to her walk, one resembling her freshman self.