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Charlie smiles, watching the sunlight dance on Y/N’s face, almost like little splashes of golden paint. She hums to whatever song is playing through her earphones, a faint smile teasing the corners of her lips. Her eyes are closed, and Charlie marvels at how peaceful and serene she looks. Her h/c hair surrounds her head like a halo, and he is tempted to reach forward and press a kiss to her temple.
He doesn’t do that, of course. Instead, he gets up from his couch and joins Y/N on the floor, lying beside her. Her eyelashes flutter at his movement and quaint, kind e/c eyes hold his stare, eyebrows raised in question.
“I thought you said that you were too mighty for the floor.” She teases, biting her lower lip to hide a smile. Charlie almost melts at that.
“I never said that. Is everything okay up there?” He points his index finger at her head.
The young woman of nineteen laughs mockingly. “Why, afraid you’re rubbing off your crazy on me?”
Charlie rolls his eyes, and shifts closer to her, their arms touching slightly – and even that slight touch makes him feels butterflies in his stomach. It’s not uncommon, of course. Ever since he realized that he is indeed in love with her, anything that she does gives him butterflies. He doesn’t mind, of course – but he hates the fact that he is unable to tell her what effect she has on him. So, he resorts to ignoring or suppressing everything he feels for his little sister’s best friend instead.
She pulls out an ear pod from her left ear and shoves it into Charlie’s ear. Eastside. She’s had this song on repeat, ever since she came to visit him in Vancouver, where he’s been filming for the first season of Julie and The Phantoms.
“I love this song. Reminds me of my first boyfriend. Remember him?” She says, softly.
“Aaron. How could I forget? You begged me to cover for you at home so you could hang out with him.” He says, smiling softly at the memory. They were so young, Y/N just fourteen, and him sixteen. He remembers her sitting beside him on the couch while he was watching a movie, all flushed and bothered, eyes continuously flitting to Charlie. He remembers saying, “I know you’re dying to tell me something.”
She had nodded, looking around the Gillespies’ living room where they were currently seated in, apprehensively. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
He had jutted out his pinky finger and wrapped it around hers. “Never.”
“I think I really, really, super-duper like Aaron.”
“Aaron as in your next-door neighbor?”
“Yep.”
Charlie had smirked. “He’s such a dork. I can’t believe that you like him.”
“Shut up, Char. He’s the sweetest.”
He chuckled. “His hobby is taking pictures of trees… if that doesn’t scream ‘dork’, then I don’t know what does.”
She had glared at him while Megan had entered the room, plopping down on the couch beside Charlie. “What’s up?”
“I’m telling him about Aaron, and he thinks that he’s a dork.”
Megan shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? He’s really cute. Also, he was asking about you today.”
“Really?” Y/N’s eyes brightened. Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “You girls are weird. But I approve. He’s a nice kid.”
“I wasn’t looking for your approval?”
“Yes, you were.”
The girls had rolled their eyes at him and he had wrapped his arms around the two.
Y/N’s voice brings him back to the present. “Simple times.”
Charlie faces her. “Everyone after him were horrible.”
She narrows her eyes at the boy beside her. “No, you were just too overprotective.”
“Nope. They were all horrible.”
They weren’t. Charlie just hated anyone who showed an interest in Y/N. At first, he thought that it was probably because he had literally watched her grow up. But a couple of months later, when he watched her kiss Levitt from the swim team, he had felt a smoldering rage rise in his stomach, along with his heart clenching. That day, he had realized that maybe there was more to it than watching her grow up. A couple more months later, on his eighteenth birthday, when she had kissed him on his cheek and handed him a present wrapped in shiny, blue paper, he had felt butterflies in his stomach. He also could feel the ghost of her delicate lips against his skin for days after, like the remnants of a fire brushing against his cheek.
When he unwrapped the present, he found a vintage, hardbound copy of his favorite book, Les Misérables, along with a note, saying: ‘I might’ve read your journal. Only the part about how much you loved hardcovers and the part about how much you hated the fact that no bookstores nearby sold it. Well, I also might’ve read the part about how frustrated you are with microwave timers. I feel you, dude. But, yeah, remember when I said that I was going to visit my sister in Montoc? I lied, LOL. I went to a vintage bookstore in Fredericton. I’m sorry for lying, but ‘twas for a good reason, huh? Hope you like this. Also, you’re my second favorite person, after Meg. Happy 18th, Charles. Love, Y/N.’
That moment he had realized that he was completely, utterly, truly, madly, deeply in love with his little sister’s best friend.
It’s been about three years since that, and he still hasn’t told her how he feels.
Now, Y/N looks at him, and rolls her eyes. “Sheesh.”
She props herself on her elbow. “When are we going out today?”
“Jeremy said that he made a reservation at 6. So, we’ll leave half an hour earlier.”
“Okay. Is Owen going with us?”
“Yeah. I don’t trust him to drive in Canada.”
She grins. “He’s cool.”
“Maybe sometimes.”
“Savannah and Madi are the coolest, though.”
“Definitely, yeah.”
“You never told me that you had a cute roomie, though.”
“Yeah – wait what?”
Y/N flashes him a teasing smile and pushes herself upward with the palm of her hands. She brushes off her yoga pants and extends an arm to Charlie who is currently panicking inside.
“Do you like Owen?”
“What if I do?”
Charlie must have looked as horrified as he had felt because she laughs and says, “I’m just messing with you.”
“Thank god.”
“Finally!” Y/N yells, kicking off her black, leather heels, which land near Charlie’s feet. He laughs, kicking them to the side.
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I dare you to wear heels like that for a day. See how you feel.”
Owen pipes from behind them, closing the door to their apartment. “Oh, I did. My friend Dani made me wear them for a video. It was the most painful day of my life.”
“See!” Y/N high fives his roommate as Charlie scrunches up his face. “How’d she find heels in your size, dude?”
He laughs, and extends an arm toward the other two, who hand him their coats, muttering ‘thank you’ individually. He walks inside, yelling, “I’m fucking tired. Going to sleep.”
“Don’t forget to check the stove!” Charlie yells back, and hears his roommate affirm his request.
It’s just the two of them standing in the foyer now, and Charlie can’t stop staring at her. She’s wearing this beautiful red dress that compliments her skin perfectly, clinging to her body in all the right places – he had himself gifted her this dress on her nineteenth birthday. (Not really. His mother had picked the dress.)
She hasn’t noticed him staring, though.
“Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” She walks inside.
Charlie pauses and purses his lips, trying to stop himself from picturing him doing it. He breathes out raggedly and follows her inside – trying (and failing) to shove that mental picture away.
Reaching the living room, he falls back onto the couch, which has been his bed for the past few days that Y/N has been here. She had protested, of course. But she already has so much trouble sleeping – she’s had it ever since she was a child.
Y/N hadn’t had the best childhood. Charlie faintly remembers his mom pulling him and his sister into the kitchen one day when Y/N left their house after spending the whole day there.
“Mom? What happened to Y/N?” Megan had asked, childlike innocence dripping off her tone.
Charlie had nodded, saying, “How’d she fall down the stairs? That bruise looked nasty.”
Their mother had sighed, and Charlie still remembers the pain in her eyes. “Honey. I want you to listen carefully, okay? And not tell anyone. You two think you can do that?”
They nodded enthusiastically.
“There are good people in this world – like Y/N. But there are also bad people, people who hurt the good people. And sometimes, sometimes, your parents can also be bad people.”
“That’s not true!” Megan had protested, their mother smiling.
“Maybe not for you. I hope so. But Y/N’s parents – they aren’t the best people, okay? They…uh… I’m not going to excuse their actions. They, uh, hurt Y/N.”
“So, they pushed her down the stairs?” Charlie asked, his eyes widened. He could not understand how the people that loved you the most could do that to you, especially to someone like Y/N. He’s known her his entire life, ever since the Y/L/Ns moved next door when he was still in diapers.
“I don’t know. Something happened. She was too shaken up to talk about it.”
“But – but – she’s the best person ever! Why would her mom and dad do that to her?” Megan had protested, eyes welling with tears at the thought of her best friend getting hurt.
“I don’t know, honey. I wish I did, I really do.” Their mother paused for a long moment. “I want you two to always be nice to her, alright? No matter what happens. Because, right now, she feels alone. I can see it in her eyes – she’s scared, confused, lonely. I know you two love her so much, and I want you guys to make sure that she knows it, okay? Make sure that she never feels lonely, all right? Make sure that she’s always safe and comfortable, as long as she’s with us, you.”
They had nodded, their hearts welling up with love for their friend.
After their mother hugged the two of them, Charlie’s twelve-year-old sister had run off to the other room, to call her best friend and tell her just how much she loves her.
Charlie had lingered in the kitchen, too sad over what he’d just been told.
“Maman?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Can’t we just keep her for ourselves?”
“If we could, we would. I would like nothing more. But that’s absolutely not legal, mon chéri.”
“Oh. That’s unfair.”
His mother had flashed him a sad smile. He had taken both of his hands in his, and said sincerely, “I promise you, maman. I’m always gonna protect her. No matter what.”
His mother had pressed a kiss into his tousled hair and whispered, “I expect nothing less.”
It’s been more than seven years since, but Charlie still does everything in his power to make sure that she is always safe and happy.
“Hey, Char?” Her voice brings him back from his childhood.
“Yeah?”
“That couch doesn’t look comfortable.” She shrugged one shoulder.
“It is! I promise you.” He lied. It definitely wasn’t comfortable. The blinding pain in his neck is proof of that.
“Don’t lie to me. Come on, sleep in your bed.”
He shook his head.
“You’re not gonna sleep on the couch, Y/N. Seriously. You’re right, it’s too uncomfortable.”
“I wasn’t gonna. We’ll sleep together. That came out wrong. I mean, we can both sleep in the same bed, we’re both adults.”
Charlie wanted to protest, but the hopeless romantic in him drowned all objections.
“We’ll put pillows between us, okay? And it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before. Remember my seventeenth? We were so drunk that we thought that the bed was a magnet, and we were screws.” She continued, looking away.
Charlie smiled up at her, remembering the feeling he had the next morning when he had woken up to find Y/N curled up into him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. “All right. If it’s okay with you.”
She nods, walking into his bedroom, with Charlie following close behind. Both them wordlessly change and freshen up in the bathroom, and Charlie falls face first in his bed.
“Oh. My. God.”
Y/N laughs, sitting at the corner of his bed. “Knew it.”
Charlie grins at her, feeling absolutely euphoric, especially with the buzz from all the drinks he’s had tonight still lingering in his head like a tattoo kiss. She slides under the covers, burrowing her face into the soft pillows. “I can’t function anymore. Bye.”
He laughs softly, squeezing her shoulder, to which she softly smiles. He slides under the cover, resting on his side to face her, or rather a mess of h/c hair and soft, rhythmic breaths. He closes his eyes, switching off the light, but he knows that he will not be getting much sleep tonight, especially with the fuzzy citrus scent of her perfume everywhere and the heat from her body consuming him.
It’s 1:20 AM and Charlie can’t sleep. Turns out that being in the same bed with the girl he’s been in love with since he was eighteen is a very, very bad idea. He’s put as much space between them as possible, yet he still feels vigilant and hot. His mind is betraying him: all he can think about is how beautiful she looks when the moonlight streaming through his window is casting shadows on her face, or how she’s sometimes saying things (really, really weird things, though – Charlie doesn’t understand anything), how much she looks like a little cat while she’s snuggled into the covers, or how she flails her arms while she’s asleep.
He considers crashing in Owen’s room for the night. But as soon as Y/N starts moving around, still sleeping, he holds that thought and watches her instead.
He can see her getting agitated, as she tosses and turns. She continues murmuring something, but it’s still all jumbled, and it hits Charlie.
He props himself on his elbow and leans close to her face. “Y/N. Hey. Come back to me. Y/N. Honey. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
She gasps, as consciousness floods in her system. She looks confused for a second, and Charlie sits up, right beside her. “Listen to me. You’re safe. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”
She exhales, eyes closing for a second.
“Are you okay?” Charlie asks when her breathing has turned cadenced.
Her eyes widen and lips part. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t ever need to apologize for that. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I just – ever since I left home, I’ve been getting these nightmares.” She says, softly. Charlie lays next to her, turning to face her, while she mirrors his actions.
“What do you see?” He asks.
“Mostly my childhood. You know, my dad pushing me down the stairs. Or my mother telling me that I’m a horrible person and no one will ever love me, and she should have aborted me. Or my dad breaking the mirror the one time I got a B in math. Or my parents fighting. Or – you know, just a montage of my parents’ greatest hits.”
She breathes out shakily.
“Getting away didn’t stop the nightmares, huh?” He asks, resting a hand on her warm cheek.
She scoots closer. “No. They still text me sometimes, mostly to remind me that I’m a terrible person and that I’m gonna go to hell for walking out on them and not going to Harvard.”
“Y/N, don’t you dare –”
“No. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Walking out was the best decision that I’ve ever made.”
He smiles softly at her.
“You and Megan… god, you two saved my life. I would never have had the courage to get this far if it wasn’t for you guys.”
“No, honey. It was all you. You’re the strongest person we know.”
“Shush. Let me compliment you in peace. You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.”
She smiles, reaching forward to tangle run her hands through Charlie’s hair. They were dangerously close now: Charlie could see the curve of her nose, the lingering red lipstick color on her lips and count the number of eyelashes she has.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to us, too.”
Charlie can feel something in the space between them, something pulling them close. It is cold outside, but here, in the cocoon they’ve created, he feels warm and at home.
“Like, thank you so much for pushing me to get into law school. Now, I’m learning how to help millions of little girls who are going through what I went through, and it makes everything worth it. I feel like I don’t say this enough, but Charlie. Thank you for everything.”
He smiles, trying to retort something funny but her proximity has jumbled his mind.
“I know you’re really busy with your life, but thanks for still thinking of me sometimes.”
That breaks Charlie out of his daze. “What?”
“You know. You’re in a Netflix show, working with Kenny freaking Ortega and all these incredible people – and I’m enormously proud of you, by the way – and… well, you’ll soon not have that much time for your little sister’s best friend, you know?”
“You’re not just my little sister’s best friend, Y/N.”
“Yeah, I’m your friend, alright. But soon you’ll be meeting celebrities and models and actors and then you wouldn’t have time for me anymore.”
Charlie furrows his brows. “Where is this coming from, Y/N?”
“I just had a lot of time to think today.” She turns on her back, facing the ceiling.
He hates the fact that she is so unpredictable: he never knows what’s going on in her head or what she is feeling. That’s one of the reasons that he’s kept his feelings for her a secret for almost three years.
“I saw you with that model today. At the bar. Uh. So, I thought that you’re probably gonna meet a lot of them in LA. Models and Hollywood girls and all that. So, you’ll probably not have any time for me anymore.”
Charlie shakes his head, recalling the model he was talking to earlier today. Or rather, yesterday. Carol. She was really nice, sweet, and beautiful – and definitely interested in Charlie. But his focus had been on Y/N, who was having a dance off with Owen and Savannah, all evening – or rather, all the time. He had tried to focus on the Carol, he really did – but after an hour, she herself realized that he wasn’t into her and whispered a ‘good luck with her’ to him before leaving to go back to her friends.
“Y/N, that’s not true –”
“It’s okay, Charlie. It’s good. Your life shouldn’t be stuck in the same place. It should be getting better, and you should be meeting new people, you know? You’ve been alone for a weirdly long time and it’s freaking your mom out. So, I know you’re gonna fall in love with someone and then you’ll be too busy –”
“God, Y/N, how are you so fucking oblivious?” Charlie snaps, annoyance coursing through his veins.
Her eyes widen at his harsh tone of voice, and it shocks Charlie, too. He’s never, ever raised his voice at her.
“What?”
Maybe it’s having her so incredibly close that causes him to finally snap. “Y/N, I have been in love with you ever since I was eighteen. You’re the only person that I want, and you’re the reason that I’ve been alone for a weirdly long time.”
He immediately regrets saying that. Y/N is sitting up, and she is looking around everywhere, trying to avert Charlie’s eyes. He hides his face behind his hands, sinking deeper into the covers and trying to create a hole and fall down to the center of the earth.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink today.”
He groans into his hands, glad that he’s under the covers and the girl can’t see his absolutely scarlet face. “Oh, for god’s sake. Dude. I wrote you an entire ballad when I was nineteen because I realized that this is exactly what’s gonna happen – that I’m always gonna be in love with you, and you’re always gonna think of me as your best friend’s older brother.”
He feels the covers shift above his head, and is greeted with Y/N’s face, a vulnerable look in her eyes. “Do you really mean it?”
“Of course, I do. You’re my family – do you really think that I’m gonna joke about something like this and ruin our friendship? The only reason I’m even telling you this is because I’m incredibly frustrated that you’re so oblivious and you’re so fucking pretty. And so close. See, this is exactly why I wanted to sleep on the couch. Because I knew that I would lose it.”
There’s a sudden flurry of movement and her lips are on his’, and they’re kissing, kissing, kissing. Charlie is too shocked to do anything at first but as soon as the warmth courses through his system and the butterflies go wild in his gut, he pulls her closer, rising up. She sits in his lap, straddling him, their hands getting lost in each other’s hairs – both of them trying to be closer, closer, closer to make up for all the lost years and to keep feeling the contentment that they feel from just being close to each other. She tastes like Charlie’s mint toothpaste and his dreams – like everything he’s ever wanted.
As they separate for air, Y/N rests her forehead on his. “I thought you knew.”
“What?” He’s surprised to find his voice hoarse.
“That I’m in love with you.”
He can’t stop the grin on his face from escaping. “What?”
“I thought Meg told you. Or your mum. Or anyone really. Everyone’s called me out on it. I’ve always had a crush on you but dating all those guys in high school made me realize that I was kind of, you know, in love with you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Same reason as you. You’re my family, Charlie. I didn’t wanna lose what we have just because of… you know.”
Y/N slides off his lap and lies on the bed, next to him and he mirrors her actions, and she rests her head on his chest, the frantic beating in his chest her background music. He drapes an arm around her shoulders, desperate to have her close.
“We’re both cowards, eh?”
She giggles.
“Wait. Meg knew?”
“Of course. She’s my best friend.”
“You know, one day I got drunk and told her that ‘I’m 100% attracted to your best friend sexually and emotionally and everythingally.’ I kept wondering why she was laughing.”
“I hate her.” She buries her face in Charlie’s chest, giggling.
Charlie laughs and pulls her in for another kiss, desperate to hold her again, to feel the high he only feels around her. She smiles against his lips, before a thought occurs to him. “Wait. You were jealous of the bar girl, weren’t you?”
“Shut up, you dork.”
They’re only half aware of the snowstorm raging outside from the warm cocoon they’ve created in each other’s arms. Maybe miracles really do exist.