Chapter Text
Dim, warm lights make the restaurant glow in a rich, comforting manner. The gentle lull of hushed conversations and faint, soft string music combine into a soothing lullaby. Couples sit across from each other, dressed to the nines, feasting on expensive meats and wines.
A young man sits on his own, bouncing his knee and looking at his omni-tool every five minutes to check the time. Moth sighs and closes it once more, shoving his hand under his thighs to try to stop him from opening it again. His heart clenches painfully in his chest and a cold sensation settles into his stomach. Blinking back tears, he takes another sip of his water, nose scrunching up when the ice hits his lip. Moth sets the glass back down, his shoulders slumping.
He picks at the fabric of his dress. He had been so excited in dressing up, wearing his favourite formal dress - floor length, dull red to black ombre with a ruffled train, high collar and long, draping sleeves. He wore his mother's pearls and some old black mary-jane high heels as well, even braided his hair back in an elaborate updo and took his time with his makeup.
Maybe it was too much?
Looking around at the other customers, he knows he isn't overdressed or sticking out like a sore thumb.
Maybe his date just got lost?
He hadn't gotten any messages from either him or his friend who had sat this date up, Charlotte.
Maybe he was stood up?
Of course he would be.
He caves and checks the time again. 9:54PM.
His date was at 6:00PM.
Biting his lips to force the tears from falling, Moth shuffles in his seat. An asari waitress comes by, Ditha (she'd been by to check on him enough times that she gave her name to Moth). He looks up at her with glazed eyes.
"How are you doing, Moth? Still nothing?"
Moth shakes his head mutely, clenching his fists in the fabric of his dress.
Ditha gently places a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, it's alright. Do you want to wait longer?"
"No," Moth's voice cracks, "I think I should just leave."
Ditha smiles sadly, "Alright, I understand. Let's get this cleared up and I can walk you out, okay?"
Moth nods and goes to transfer some credits - feeling bad to have taken nearly four hours of tips from her. She reaches over and stops him, "You haven't ordered anything, you don't need to pay."
"But I've been here for four hours. I need to at least tip you, you've been so nice."
Moth doesn't let her argue and sends her a generous tip, the cold in his stomach starting to freeze and creep its way further up his body. He forces a smile at her and stands, legs wobbling for a second before heading to the entrance, Ditha right beside him.
She stops him right before he leaves the restaurant, "Will you be okay to get home? I can call a cab for you, if you need it?"
Moth shakes his head, "I'll be okay, I think I need to walk for a bit anyway."
Ditha nods, "Get home safe."
"I will. Thank you."
And with that, Moth leaves, holding and rubbing his arms in a feeble attempt to comfort himself.
It's not far from the restaurant that the tears fall, dripping down his face in big, ugly drops. He wipes at his cheeks, sobs escaping his lips as he makes his way home, a long walk that he doesn't really want to take, but would rather have the 'fresh' air of the Citadel than be stuffed in a cab.
Luckily, being in such a rich sector, there's hardly anyone out and about this late at night and he makes his way towards a small park he saw on the way to the restaurant, hoping the artificial plants will at least comfort him a little. He's busy wiping his eyes when he bumps into something hard and solid. Stumbling back a little and barely managing to stay on his feet, Moth looks up, eyes slightly blurry from the tears. He can make out the semi familiar blues and greys of C-Sec armour and the face of a dark turian with light, angular markings across his plates.
"Sorry, I-" Moth's voice catches, "I wasn't paying attention, sorry."
"It's… alright…" His voice is deep and smooth, subharmonics rings out richly, "Are you okay? You're crying."
Moth sniffles and wipes his face, grimacing when his hand comes away with black streaks from his makeup, "Yeah, I just… Got stood up. I should have expected it, I just let myself hope… that this time would be different."
The turian's mandibles twitch and he shifts his weight, hands coming up a little as Moth sniffles, "Ah, I'm sorry to hear that, uh…"
Moth looks up, "Moth. My name's Moth."
"Officer Tullvus Octanian."
Moth rubs his face again, finally feeling like his tears have dried up, but his face now feeling tight and gross. The officer, Tullvus, Moth reminds himself, fumbles with something on his side and hands the human a wadded up cloth. Moth's brows furrow and he looks up at Tullvus, tilting his head to the side a little.
Tullvus gestures for Moth to take it,"It's clean, I promise."
This pulls a soft chuckle out of Moth as he reaches for the cloth and he gently wipes his eyes and cheeks, trying to be soft on the raw skin. It takes him a minute and when he pulls the cloth away, it's streaked with the black of his makeup.
He frowns and looks up at Tullvus, "I'll clean this for you, sorry to dirty it so much."
Tullvus shakes his head, "Don't worry about it."
"Please, it's the least I can do."
With a flare of his mandibles, Tullvus bows his head, "Alright."
Moth smiles a little, chest starting to feel a little warmer. He tries to get a better look at Tullvus, but with the low artificial night light, it's difficult. He can tell his plates and skin are much darker than the turians he usually saw around the Citadel, and his markings are bone white - curving down his mandibles, over his eyebrow plates meeting in the centre and going up into a Y on the central forehead plate with a small dash in the centre of the Y and three marks on his chin. The contrast is quite beautiful, Moth finds himself thinking, and would make a pretty print.
Tullvus clears his throat, a strangely human act that Moth can't recall ever seeing or hearing a turian do before.
"Would you like me to escort you home? As, uh, an officer of C-Sec," Tullvus' mandibles flutter against his mouth after he speaks and he looks away slightly.
Moth rubs his arms, trying to warm himself as the chill of the Citadel's night starts to get at him, "It's quite far, I wouldn't want to be a bother or get in the way of your patrols and, y'know, your job."
With a small shake of his head, Tullvus replies, "It wouldn't be a bother. My patrol is about done anyway."
"If… if you're sure, I really don't wanna inconvenience you further."
"I'm sure. If you're, uh, comfortable with that, anyway," Tullvus seems to stumble over his words a little, pulling a small huff of laughter from Moth.
"It would make me feel a little safer walking with someone this late to my sector at least."
Tullvus straightens up and Moth realises just how tiny he is compared to him. He barely reaches his waist, and that's with five inch heels. Speaking of which, the ache in his ankle starts to make itself known. He shifts his weight, hoping to alleviate his ankle a little.
"Well then," Tullvus steps aside, "Where to?"
For a split second, Moth debates if it's safe to tell him where he lives, but something in his stomach eases him, his gut feeling telling him that it's fine. So he gives the address to his small, crappy but cozy apartment in the Shalta Ward. Tullvus' eyebrow plates raise and his mandibles flare out for a moment.
"That's an awfully far walk. Let me call a cab, on me."
Moth goes to protest, but his ankles do hurt and it is late. With a huff, he gives in, "Alright, but let me at least pay half."
Tullvus barks a laugh, "Deal."
The cab ride isn't all that awkward even if Tullvus, bless his heart, tries to keep the small talk conversation going. In the cab's light, Moth can make out a little more of Tullvus' features. His plates are a deep brown and the skin underneath is even darker, a deep mocha, with a fringe that seems longer than usual. His markings are just as stark white as Moth thought they were in the park, but it's his eyes that make the breath catch in Moth's throat. They're a brilliant emerald green, such a beautiful shade that Moth has never seen before. It makes him freeze for a moment too long before he tries to busy himself with the straps on his high heels and hope it wasn't too noticeable.
"So, what do you do Moth?" Tullvus asks, either not noticing the young man's ordeal, or deciding to ignore it.
Moth looks up from across from him, rubbing his ankles, "Oh, I'm an art student. It takes up most of my time, but I also model for classes and other artists and work at a thrift store in between classes."
"You're quite busy then, aren't you?" Tullvus says with an attempt at a casual lean, that looks more stiff and uncomfortable than casual.
"Yeah," Moth laughs a little hollowly, "And this is what I do in the little freetime I have."
"Ride in cabs with turian C-Sec officers?"
Moth laughs a little more genuinely, "No, get stood up on dates to expensive restaurants."
Tullvus chuckles a little, "Well, in my opinion, the food in that sector is a little overrated. I much prefer this little cafe down the road from my apartment."
"Me too!" Moth exclaims, "I never do stuff like this, but my friend sat this up for me. She likes to meddle a little too much sometimes. Means well and she's probably just tired of hearing me complain about being lonely. But when she told me where it was, I got too excited about dressing up and well, look where that got me."
Tullvus is quiet for a moment, then speaks, softly, "Well, you certainly look lovely."
The turian then tenses, his mandibles slapping against his face, hard enough to make a clicking noise.
Moth feels his cheeks burn a little at the compliment, "Oh, uh, thank you. But I will have to deny that, I'm an absolute mess and my makeup had bled all over my face when I first ran into you."
"Still…" Tullvus rumbles, then tries to change the topic, "What, uh, what kind of art do you do?"
"I'm a printmaker. It's a real old style of art, going on about… six, seven hundred years now?" Moth looks up in thought, brows furrowed as he tries to remember the dates he learnt his first year, then gives up with a shrug, "Surprised it's still going, to be honest. There're several different methods, but the one I mainly work with is relief woodblocks - I take a piece of wood, carve an image into it, then cover it with ink and press it into paper so the image transfers."
Tullvus looks impressed, and Moth notices that his fringe moves just slightly. He didn't know they could do that.
"Interesting, didn't know that was a thing."
Moth nods, "Yeah, it's real old, probably only humans do it too. It's not all that common anymore. Anyway, how long have you been at C-Sec?"
The turian chuffs, "Going on eight years now."
He seems irritated, his mandibles flicking repeatedly and his eyes looking elsewhere.
"Not a fan of it?" Moth asks, carefully, hoping he's not diving too deep.
Tullvus shakes his head, "Not really. A coworker of mine has been a lot more vocal about his… grievances with C-Sec and he's pretty much saying all the same things I feel. There's too much 'looking the other way' and credits getting passed under the table." Tullvus makes air quotes with one of his fingers as he speaks, a sight that makes a little laugh bubble up from Moth's chest.
"Sounds fucked."
"You're telling me. Garrus recently just left and went on some adventure with some human woman. It's a little dull without him yapping about red tape. But this is what my parents wanted for me, so I needed to follow their expectations."
Moth frowns, "Had it not been for them, what would you have done instead?"
Tullvus sits quiet for a moment, thinking, "I think I would have done something with engineering or calibrations. I like numbers."
Moth smiles at that, "Impressive! I always hated maths in school, but that's certainly an interesting line of work."
The cab comes to a stop and Moth looks out the window, surprised that they're already in his neighbourhood. He blinks, then looks down at his omni-tool, pulling up what should be enough credits to cover half of the ride. As he pays, he notices Tullvus exiting the cab and holding his arm out for Moth.
"Oh," Moth says, unused to such an act, but takes his arm anyway as Tullvus helps him out of the cab, "Thank you."
Tullvus rumbles, a sound Moth likens to a purr of a big cat, "You're welcome. Where to from here?"
Moth looks up at him, craning his neck a little, "Uh, not all that much further, but you don't have to walk all the way there, it's alright. I don't want to jeopardize your job."
"It's fine, trust me. I much prefer your company to going back to the office to write up a report on my uneventful patrol."
He pulls another laugh from Moth, "You're just using this as an excuse to procrastinate, aren't you?"
Tullvus' mandibles flare out and he chuckles, "I said nothing of the sort, you came to that on your own."
Moth laughs again, chest feeling warmer. The young man starts down the busy street, still bustling despite the time of night. Though, the wards don't have a day/night cycle, it makes a little sense. He can feel people's stares as he walks, feeling his cheeks heat up from the embarrassment of being so dressed up. Just as he starts to get a little worked up, there's a gentle pressure on his upper back, right between his shoulder blades.
Looking up, he finds Tullvus looking down at him, mandibles fluttering.
"You're alright," He speaks, softly.
Moth flushes, "Thank you."
The two travel in relative quiet until they find themselves in front of the slightly worn building that Moth lives in.
"Well, this is me."
Tullvus bows his head a little as Moth turns to face him, "Thank you for walking me here. I really appreciated your company."
The turian nods, "You're welcome, Moth."
Moth smiles and bobs his head down, "Good night, Officer Tullvus."
And with that, he heads inside and up the three flights of stairs to his fourth floor apartment, though not before tugging off his heels and taking the stairs barefoot. As he unlocks his door and enters his apartment, he lets out a breath. Even though his night didn't end as horrid as he thought when at the restaurant, his heart still does hurt from being stood up for the… Moth counts on his fingers and sighs after getting to seven. Charlotte has good intentions, but seven stood-up dates hurts more than he would like to admit.
The first hadn’t been awful. A kind human man had asked him to lunch while Moth was at work. Out of shock, the young man had agreed after stumbling over his words. Come the time for the date, the other man ended up texting a hour past the time they had agreed on - saying that he wouldn’t be able to make and that he’d message Moth to set up a new date. Moth never got that follow-up text.
The second had been set up by Charlotte, after seeing how distraught the young man had been after the failed date. She told him that she knew a nice guy she went to school with and was still sort of in contact with. So she set up a date for him and Moth, at a theatre to see a new movie. Moth had waited outside the theatre for over 40 minutes past the movie’s start time before giving up and going home.
The third again was initiated by Charlotte, a few weeks after the first attempt. This time it was a turian she was neighbours with. Moth had allowed himself to get a little hopeful this time, as he had met this turian a few times before. On the day of the date, just as Moth was leaving, he got a message from the turian saying that he doesn’t date outside of other turians. Moth overheard at work the next day that Charlotte had nearly punched her turian neighbour.
After the failure of the second and third, Charlotte became determined. She set up the fourth (with another human), the fifth (with a drell), the sixth (with yet another human) and the seventh, most recent one. Each time, Moth felt himself get more and more drained, chest feeling a little heavier after each one.
With a deep breath, Moth double checks to make sure his door is locked, then starts stripping in the entryway, not caring much and just wanting out. He discards his heels first, then carefully places his mother's pearl on the small table next to the door. His dress follows after, tossed over the overstuffed couch in his living room. He heads to the bathroom, checking himself in the mirror and grimacing. His makeup's mostly gone, thanks to Tullvus' handkerchief, but he still looks like he's been crying for the past hour… which he has technically.
Taking out his earrings and placing them in the little dish to the side of the sink, Moth washes his face. As he dries off, the chill from the hurt of being stood up starts to return, clawing at his chest and his stomach. He pulls the towel away from his face, looking at himself in the mirror. Then he freezes. Why is it returning? Had it left?
He remembers feeling warmer, light feeling in the cab and how Tullvus had managed to get him to laugh. It felt… right… good. Tullvus even managed to pick up on his anxiety while walking back to the apartment, something no one but Charlotte and his mother have ever been able to do.
Why didn't he ask Tullvus' for his number?
He enjoyed talking with the turian and something about him made the small human feel at ease.
With a flare of annoyance at himself, he tosses the towel in the sink and sulks off to the small bedroom, burrowing under the covers in just his panties and hoping that Charlotte doesn't ask too much about how the date went in the morning.
Of course she does.
His shift starts way too early for his liking as he trudges into the small storefront. Thrift stores like these aren't too common these days, and especially not on the Citadel. But Moth definitely doesn't live in the richest sector and finds more comfort in the artsy district of the Shalta Ward, therefore finding thrift stores are a little easier.
He had woken up a little late and stumbled through his apartment trying to get dressed and eat something before his shift (of course he also tripped over his dress from last night). Coming into work, it's obvious he had a rough time this morning. And of course Charlotte picks up on it, a cheshire grin curling on her face.
"Had a fun night?" The much taller and larger girl asks, leaning against the pay counter as Moth enters, clothes still a little disheveled and hair hastily tied up in a ponytail.
He sends a weak glare at the long, purple and blue haired girl, "No. I didn't get fucked."
Charlotte's grin falters, "Oh."
"It was another no-show," Moth says, rubbing his face and leaning against the other side of the counter. His heart aches a little as he speaks.
"I'm sorry," Charlotte reaches out, giving the smaller man's shoulder a squeeze, "I thought for sure this one was different. He sounded so excited and into you."
Moth sighs and sends a weak smile her way, pushing off the counter to go and put his things in the back, "Yeah, that's what you said the last four times. I really appreciate you trying, though."
He pauses in the threshold to the backroom, turning back at Charlotte for a minute, "Though, a nice turian C-Sec officer walked me home. He… he was nice."
He ducks into the backroom, hiding the blush climbing up his cheeks. He can hear Charlotte's soft squeal from here and he giggles a little to himself. Dropping his bag and straightening out his clothes, he hopes he's more presentable as he heads back out onto the floor. Charlotte is waiting eagerly.
"Tell me everything about him!"
Moth groans, but keeps a smile on his face, only being overdramatic towards his friend, "His name's Tullvus."
The young man describes the turian and how the night had ended. Charlotte sits entranced, radiating excitement and giddiness.
"So," She starts off, grin wide, "When's the date?"
Moth frowns, a small wave of regret hitting him, "I didn't get his number. I'll probably never see him again."
The girl huffs, "Bullshit. I'll hunt him down if I have to."
Moth laughs as a customer walks in, forcing the two to end their conversation and start actually working. There's a small dash of hope in him that maybe he'll be able to find Tullvus, since he does have his first and last name. But also, there's a lot of C-Sec offices. He nips that hope while it's still young.
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The Presidium has always been slow and the hours feel like they drag on and on. Tullvus sighs and turns into the park, his patrol shift going about how he thought it would - long and boring. He pauses and rubs his faceplates, trying to wake himself up.
Suddenly, there's a soft collision against his back and he spins around.
A human staggers slightly then looks up at him, deep brown eyes rimmed red and shining with tears. Their cheeks are reddened and there's black smudges of their… face paint? Tullvus never paid much attention to what humans call their facial decorations. The human is dressed up, very formally from Tullvus can recall. They're also much smaller than most humans he's encountered.
"Sorry, I-" Their voice catches, a pretty, soft sound, lacking the subharmonics he's so used to, "I wasn't paying attention, sorry."
"It's… alright…" Tullvus says, "Are you okay? You're crying."
They sniffle and wipe their face, making a strange expression when they pull their hand back before wrapping their arms around themselves again, "Yeah, I just… Got stood up. I should have expected it, I just let myself hope… that this time would be different."
Tullvus feels a strange ache in his chest as the human says that, their voice vacant and hollow. He wants to comfort them and begins to reach out, but stops himself short and instead just says, "Ah, I'm sorry to hear that, uh…"
The human looks up, blinking and taking a moment to process, "Moth. My name's Moth."
Tullvus straightens himself a little, "Officer Tullvus Octanian."
Laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, Tullvus can't get Moth out of his head. He rolls onto his side, groaning out loud. Something about the small human struck him, sticking with him all the way back to the C-Sec office, all while he wrote his short report on his patrol in the Presidium and all the way to his apartment.
Not once in his days at C-Sec or during his time enlisted in the military did he ever tell anyone about not wanting to join C-Sec. He had always wanted to stay in the military and do support work - engineering ships or calibrating weaponry. It was his parents' wants and dreams for him to join C-Sec and he didn't want to disappoint them. How did a human he knew all of forty minutes coax that out of him while friends of two decades couldn't?
Another groan leaves him as he rolls over to his other side, staring at the clock on the bedside table. He has three hours until his shift in the morning and hasn't gotten any sleep yet. Closing his eyes with a huff, he hopes he can get a few in before his alarm goes off.
The main C-Sec office has always been noisy. Between officers bringing in arrestees, citizens complaining or filing reports or his coworkers going off about something loudly, Tullvus feels a headache coming on already. And it's not even 10.
As he makes his third cup of coffee of the day, he can't help but overhear the conversation three of his fellow turian officers are having. Flatis and Caso have always been loud and obnoxious and Tullvus can feel his headache getting worse just being in proximity of those two. Aulus is at least a little more tolerable, when he's not with the other two at least.
"So she messages me, telling me she has this friend, right? That he's single and in the market," Caso says, gesturing with his cup of coffee.
Flatis snorts.
Caso gives Flatis a snarky look with his mandibles flaring out, "So I tell her to tell me more about this human and she goes off about how he's an artist and a model and sends me all these pics and let me tell you-" He leans in closer to the other two turians- "This human's tiny and weird looking. He's got all this metal in his face."
Flatis scoffs, scrunching up his nose, "Humans sure love doing that. I don’t get it."
With a wide flare of his mandibles, Caso continues, "So I say sure, that I'll go on this date. In fact, tell him that I'll meet him at Serigio's."
Aulus chokes on his coffee, "That super expensive and fancy place in the Presidium?"
"The very one," Caso says with a laugh, "I have her set it up for 6 yesterday, make sure this human's down and all excited and then just never show!"
The three fall into laughter.
Tullvus stands completely frozen.
"Yeah, I just… Got stood up. I should have expected it, I just let myself hope… that this time would be different."
"No, get stood up on dates to expensive restaurants."
Tullvus growls, his subharmonics rattling in his throat, loud enough to startle Aulus and get the other two to stop laughing. Caso chuffs, standing up from his seat at the table.
"What's got you all ruffled up, Octanian?"
Tullvus glares at the other turian. Caso is slightly shorter than him, his plates lighter and more a tanned colour with sharp red markings across his face. The taller stands upright from his slight hunch over the counter, staring down into Caso's amber eyes.
"You sicken me."
Caso barks a sharp laugh, "Whatever, Octanian."
He shoulders pass Tullvus, making sure to shove him slightly and Flatis and Aulus follow behind, sending looks at Tullvus. Left alone in the breakroom, the dark turian sighs and puts his hands on the counter, muscles tense.
This had to be just a coincidence. Moth could have been to any of the other numerous expensive restaurants in the Presidium. Caso could have been talking about any other tiny human male with a face full of piercings who is also an artist and a model.
Tullvus shakes his head.
No.
Caso had to have been talking about Moth.
There's too many similarities.
With a deep sigh, he picks up his now lukewarm coffee, dumps it down the sink and heads back to his desk, thoughts filled with anger towards Caso hurting someone such as Moth. The shorter turian had a habit of doing such things and it always seethed inside of Tullvus, but now that he's seen the otherside? That anger feels even more hot.
By the end of his shift, he's made up his mind. Clocking out and dressed out of his C-Sec armour, Tullvus requests a cab, dishing out the credits to head to the Shalta Ward.
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Throwing his bag to the side, Moth flops onto his couch, sinking slightly into the old cushions. He's completely exhausted from work and just wants to melt into his couch for the rest of the evening. But his stomach growls obnoxiously, making him whine.
"Shut up, let me rest for a minute," He mutters, closing his eyes.
His short rest is interrupted again, this time by his door buzzing. He sits up, puzzled. Only his landlord ever buzzes and he already paid rent last week. Moth checks his omni-tool for any messages from Charlotte, seeing if she said something about running by his place. When it comes up blank, his eyebrows furrow.
Standing from the couch, he makes his way to the door and opens it, looking down to ask his landlord what was up.
"Visilin, I paid rent last week, what's…" Instead of the squat volus, his eyes meet turian legs.
Blinking, he looks up, and gasps a little in shock.
Tullvus stands at his door, shifting his weight a little awkwardly. His mandibles flutter against his jaw and his eyes dart around the apartment's threshold. His eyes settle on Moth and the young man feels his breath hitch as the emerald green bore into him.
"Moth, uh, apologies for coming over unannounced."
"Tullvus," He breathes, "No, no, it's alright. What's up?"
The dark turian shifts his weight again, hands twisting together as he glances away from Moth's face, "Ah, well… I- We-"
He lets out a breath, "I was wondering if I could get your number. I… really, uh, enjoyed last night and… wanted to ask if you would like to go to dinner with me next weekend?"
Moth blinks, completely taken aback. Yeah, he had fantasized about this all day while at work, but for it to actually come true? He's speechless.
Tullvus' shoulders slouch a little, his mandibles flicking and a soft, whirring noise leaves his chest, "Sorry, I shouldn't have overstepped, I'll see myself out."
In the blink of an eye, Moth shoots his hand out, gently grabbing onto Tullvus' wrist, "Wait, no, I would love that. I'm just… surprised to see you."
The turian's eyes light up and his mandibles flutter, "Really? Oh, wow, uh, that's… that's great! Are you free next Saturday?"
Moth nods, "Yeah, I model in the morning, but I'm free after 4. Does that cafe you mentioned serve lexo?"
"Yeah, yeah it does. Should I pick you up at 5?"
Moth can't help the smile curling on his lips, "That works perfectly."
Tullvus bobs his head, "Great! Great, I'll see you then."
He turns to leave and Moth stops him again, "Wait, I still didn't get your number."
The young man bites back a giggle as Tullvus' mandibles flare open and eyes widen, "Right, right, uh, here, let me add you."
Moth can't wipe the smile off his face as he enters his contact info into Tullvus' omni-tool and waves as the turian descends the stairs back down to the street. He's still grinning like a schoolboy when he closes the door and leans against it. An excited squeal leaves him as he slides down the door and sits on the floor, typing out an ecstatic message to Charlotte.