Step-By-Step (Char/Theo)

When his hand moved to her cheek, Charlotte could feel his touch, then, because the scales upon her cheeks were thinner and more flexible. She exhaled a breath she wasn’t aware of holding. Her head was reeling, her heart stammering—what the fuck? What was wrong with her? Quickly, Theo removed his hand, and Charlotte only followed him bashfully with her eyes. For reasons she couldn’t put to words, she was disappointed when he snatched his hand away and turned.

Something about this whole situation made her… nervous. But not a bad nervous? Nervous-excited? No one had ever been so comfortable with her. Not even Jack—sure, they sat close when watching movies, but—no one had held her like that. All gentle. It was… nice.

The prawn nodded distractedly, relieved that she had at least the good instinct to recommend the sketchbook idea. It was smooth. Almost like she could form coherent sentences. That momentary victory was short-lived, however, when Theodore began to lift the sweater free of his body.

“Ah, no, it’s—“ the prawn began to protest. She didn’t want her friend to freeze his ass off just because she was unprepared. Her dismissal of Theo’s offering was swallowed as soon as she saw the glimpse of bare midriff. Maybe his shirt was caught—no. As Theo gradually wriggled free of the sweater, there was no t-shirt to the rescue—he was naked underneath that long-sleeved shirt. And soon, a shirtless Theo was standing before her, casually extending his shirt towards her.

>> “Here, put this on. Should be nice and comfortable.”

Uh, hands, hello? He’s offering you a sweater! Charlotte slowly took the proffered sweater, glowing and speechless. She might have gaped a bit, her mouth awkwardly attempting to say something—anything—that made this less weird.

“Youweren’tkidding!” she broke-out suddenly, prying her eyes away from his chest, “Y-you weren’t kidding when you, uh-“ what did he say when they had their heart-to-heart under the tree? Shitshitshit! She didn’t want to be rude, but she could freaking remember, either, “-uh. Y-your muscles. Are. Nice! I can see why you were so popular.”

Fuck, that was weird. Exeunt, stage right—the prawn turned rigidly from the tent, but rather than step inside to change, she disappeared around the corner. Normally she didn’t care about taking her shirt off—she had no boobs to start—but she needed to physically remove herself from how weird that remark was. Once out of view, Charlotte hoisted her tank top off over her head, a frigid breeze tickling at the exposed seams between carapace plates.

She gingerly poked her head through the head-hole of the sweater, hyper-aware of how loosely-knit it was, and how spiny she was. If she ripped holes in this long-sleeved shirt, she wouldn’t forgive herself. The shirt was still warm from Theo wearing it. And it had that distinctly boyish smell of body-spray and… well, Theo. It was pleasant.

Before Charlotte navigated the sleeves, she removed her own tank top—for she now had the clarity of mind to realize that, if Theodore wasn’t in a shirt, she’d be too flustered to look at him, or even speak to him. Once free of her tank top, the sleeves came next, methodically guided up to her elbows, past the dangerous spikes on her lower arms.

She reemerged from the tent in Theo’s sweater, her gaze trained on the ground. Though her companion was… robust, to say the least… he was considerably shorter. So the shirt hung strangely upon her frame. The neckline drooped a bit, used to accommodating a more ample chest, and the hem of the shirt lingered well above the hem of her pants, leaving a few inches of her hip and waist exposed.

“It’s very comfortable,” she confirmed belatedly, extending the tank top towards Theo (and still without looking at him), “H-here. I can’t leave you half-naked while I’m all warm.”

Even though the tank top offered nothing in the way of insulation. She also, belatedly, realized that Theo had agreed to drawing together, or at least playing pencil-and-paper games while they still had light.

“We could, uh… lay in the tent?” the prawn proposed, finally hazarding a glance, “And, I dunno, get cozy?” The prawn was still a little chilled, after all, and it would only get colder.

OOC notes:

The two went quietly into the tent. Theodore draped the blanket over them like a cowl. They lay shoulder-to-shoulder, which meant Charlotte's feet poked out the end of the blanket. She retrieved her sketchbook and a few writing utensils, opening it to the nearest blank page. She took a ballpoint pen.

They marked the time that transpired in the games they played and the doodles that occupied the fringes-- dots and boxes, hangman, and tic-tac-toe with periodic interruptions from a half-assed doodle. Theo praised Charlie's most recent tic-tac-toe victory, and the prawn breathed a laugh.

"You sure it isn't just cuz you can't see?" she teased. Although Charlie could see clear as day, she could also see that the bioluminescent pores were casting pinpricks of light into the surface of the sketchbook. It was getting dark…

Charlotte turned to face Theodore, and finally realized that he was watching her… and he was close. Her smile faltered, her glowing freckles brightening. She wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

A tender hand folded against Charlie's cheek, feathery soft. The bewildered prawn leaned into Theo's touch, allowing her eyes to close. She wasn't sure what prompted this, but… she wasn't going to question it. His other hand soon joined, and Charlotte leaned obediently closer. For all the cuddling she and Jack did, this was radically… better. No one had held her like this before. Her mandibles relaxed, revealing the inner workings of her mouth. But then… Theo hesitated. Charlotte opened her eyes.

This was… when they should've kissed, right? The parted mandibles made her look like she was gaping at him.

Theodore lost his nerves, his hands exploring the crown of her head, aimless fingers brushing against her antennae. The unexpected stroke was like a paintbrush upon bare skin, and sent an involuntary shiver down the prawn's spine.

"Be gentle," she warned quietly, "My antennae are, uh, sensitive."

Not "Please don't touch me there," or "Stop," but "Be gentle."

Charlotte watched. Why had he stopped? Deep down, Charlotte had an inkling as to why, but… she hoped that wasn't the case. She watched and then… curiosity got the better of her. What was it like, she wondered? Charlotte drew a hand out from beneath her, catching Theo's chin in the crook of her hand, hoping to draw his gaze upward once again. She maneuvered her hand to caress his cheek, then into the familiar territory of his hair. All this was done experimentally, looking to see if Theodore would wince or withdraw or turn away.

Her expression pinched. Things would be so much easier if she was a cute girl. An actual girl. With lips. But he hadn't pulled away, so that… had to count for something. God her heart was hammering.

"Is it… cool… if I, uh, kiss you?" the prawn blurted. She was losing her nerves, too. And if she just went in for a kiss, and he panicked, Charlotte wouldn't be able to live that down. She'd probably start walking home that night.

The soft affirmation was all she needed. By now, her glow probably rivaled a Christmas tree.

She closed the distance between the two of them.

If he'd ever kissed a girl at all, it was probably nothing quite like this. Even with the outer maxillipeds spread, they probably lightly pinched the sides of his jaw. The smaller, inner maxillipeds probably tickled at his lips. She had no lips to kiss, and Charlotte found herself cursing her biological birthright. A shy tongue, the only really humanoid aspect her mouth, brushed against Theo's lips. Her hand cradled his head, an idle thumb brushing over his ear.  

That was her kiss. And that was all the prawn could manage before the embarrassment set-in. She broke the kiss, tucking her head now. A timid chuckle pushed at the edge of her voice. She let her hand fall, albeit hesitantly. She didn't want to stop touching him… but she didn't want Theo to feel trapped either.

"Sorry if that was weird," she murmured, closing her sketchbook and then laying down, "I… uh… it just… felt right."

Her heart was still hammering. She tucked a massive hand beneath her head, and let the other arm rest flush with her side. And as always, she watched him carefully, wondering what the next move would be.

OOC notes:

Still glowing ever-brightly from the embarrassment that ran through her, the pinpricks of light once again brightened when Theodore attempted to placate the prawn by saying that there was "no one else he'd rather share his first kiss with".

"That was your first kiss," the prawn echoed, her voice barely squeaking into the audible range. The lax hand at her side went to cover her face, which felt hot beneath her own cool palm, "Ooohhh, geez, that was your first kiss?!"

Some awkward, flailing-of-mouthbits, hey-let-me-lick-you was his first kiss? God. Charlotte had taken his first kiss. That was weird. She had thought... surely, a guy that looked like Theo, had been kissed by a girl before. But no, Charlotte was his first. And she'd just have to live with that. A sort-of anxious chirr was building at the back of her throat, but she heard Theo shifting his weight, and looked up.

His hands moved away from the antennae, and moved to an embrace, drawing her in. Charlotte's heart stuttered loudly in her ears, almost too loud to hear him. She was dense and immovable by nature, so she had to prop herself up on the arm pinned beneath her for Theo's attempt to be successful.

Charlotte complied, uncovering her face, edging closer. Every point of contact that was formed seemed to pass electricity from one teen to the text, even if Charlotte's shell prevented her from feeling most of it. Charlotte was acutely aware of where they touched, and making careful adjustments, so as not to snag fabric or skin with the spines along her shell.

The difference in height made cuddling almost humorously incongruous, the prawn realized in a moment of clarity-- his stomach against her chest, his knees against her (lack of a) stomach, his shins against her thighs-- she should have assumed the "taller" position, honestly. The big spoon, so to speak.

But, if Charlotte tilted her chin up... she could still see Theo's face, she could still dive into those deep blue eyes and swim around in them. That made the awkwardly incongruous snuggle worth it.

Her bioluminescent pores continued winking in the dark as she wrapped an arm around the boy, drawing him in, the flat of her palm settling between his shoulders.

No one had ever held her like this. No one looked at her like that. It was enough to make a person cry. The prawn listened as her friend spoke, dumbfounded, relieved, riding the natural rise-and-fall of the words that left his mouth. Theo sighed, and Charlotte took the chance to reassure him.

"I like this, too," she murmured. Having established that they both wanted to be as entangled as they were, the prawn finally allowed herself to relax a little, her grip on Theo's borrowed tank top slackening. The lights that danced over her shell were beginning to dim a bit, too. She rested her head in the crook of her arm, pinned beneath her. At the sound her name, with the faint up-tic of an inquiry, the prawn breathed a sleepy, "Hm?"

She pieced-together tales of summer break, of trips to Oxford... with Theo. He may have looked down to gauge her reaction or lock eyes, but her eyes were closed.

"Oxford...? Like England...?" she mused, without opening her eyes. A dumb question, honestly-- she knew Theo was from England. A half-chuckle escaped her, "Well, I do have my passport." she nestled closer, the idle hand on Theo's shoulders trailing to the small of his back, "Gotta... ask my parents first, though."

All that felt so far away right now, though. It was like they were in their own little world, the last people on Earth. One would think that, with how dark and quiet it was. The last of Charlotte's bioluminescent pores flickered out. She sighed, too, but the silence wasn't allowed to settle for very long.

She scooted little taller, burrowing her muzzle in the crook of his neck. The prawn smiled, faintly.

"You sure that... your parents would be cool... with your... big... buggy-looking... Californian... friend?" the prawn teased. There was a crucial, omitted syllable in the last word that Charlotte uttered, something that suggested they were more than just friends, but... she didn't want to get too cocky.

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