turnstile blues

[charlotte lemeir]

Charlotte LeMeir hasn't left the picnic tables near the front gates since ten in the morning. She sits on her perch in a sweetheart sundress (her first time wearing it) with A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews unfolded in her lap. Her eyes glue to the page and she reads, though too distracted to absorb the words or follow the story. If someone were to ask what the book was about, she wouldn't be sure she could bullshit an answer. Every time the gates open, she sits a little straighter and her head gets higher, her big soft eyes peering into the windows of the cars that drive in. I At some point Roger (one of the other volunteers) joins her. She finds everything about him annoying. His voice along with his very think and hard to understand British accent, even the content he speaks bothers her. She plays along though. Laughing when he tries to make a joke, and replying "oh really?" when he says something he thinks she'll find interesting. He asks who she's looking for when she sinks back down after another unsuccessful visitor and she replies nobody, even though it's obvious that it's somebody. When someone she does recognize appears through tinted windows, her heart leaps and she starts to stand, but a quick mental reminder to keep her cool causes her to sit back on her table. But when the car doors open she can't help but hop off the table, a cloud of dirt rising as her sandals hit the dry terrain. She watches as Oscar steps out of the car and her heart beats erratically with nerves and excitement. Be cool. "Hi," she suppresses a larger smile for a small one and even though her heart is screaming to jump to hug him, her arms keep to her side. Just the one note: sorry my work is so boring and I can't help bombarding you.

[Deleted]

Weariness clung to Oscar like a fog, weighing him down and making his eyelids droop. He had been up since 3am for a shoot, his hair artfully windswept and dark circles cleverly hidden under a thin layer of concealer. It was a good few hours drive from Johannesburg to the reservation where Charlotte was staying and for much of it he was fighting sleepiness with everything he had, which of course only served to make him all the sleepier. Beside him was an oversized gym bag with a few changes of clothes, barely anything since a) he figured he wouldn't need much, and b) he was the least competent human being on Earth. Despite his relative exhaustion, as soon as they turned down a winding road and his driver mentioned that they weren't far away, a jolt of excitement hit him like a thunderbolt. It felt like forever since he'd seen Charlotte and he wondered if she would look any different, if maybe she'd be any different, if being so selfless had changed her in some fundamental way.  Before long they're pulling into what looks almost like a campsite, a few ramshackle buildings clustered around a whole lot of dirt. A few people milled about and it took Oscar less than a second to zero in on the face that he most wanted to see, his whole body suddenly energised with the very real, very actually-happening-right-now prospect of seeing her. In stark contrast to her decorum he bounded out of the car, not even stopping to close the door behind him as he swept her up into a hug, twirling round and sending her skirt billowing as he did so. Putting her down, he kissed her on the cheek, too shy to kiss her properly. "Hi," he beamed, before remembering that he hadn't walked here. Paying the driver and tipping generously, he grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, turning back to beam at her again. "Hi," he repeated, glancing over her and soaking her in. "You look beautiful. So tanned! Come on then, show me around."

[charlotte lemeir]

When she's lifted into the air and spun into an embrace, Charlotte loses that calm and collected cool she'd worked so hard on. She tears into giggles, her arms tightening around his broad shoulders. "Hi," she echoes back, regaining control of her smile and looking up at his handsome face. "You look better," he looks exhausted, but beneath that he looks like some sort of Greek God. She can tell he's been hard at work since she last saw him. "Come, let's put your bags away and then I'll give you the grand tour," she pinches his shirt and tugs him behind her, ignoring Roger as they walk past.  "I did some trading and got rid of Roger for a couple of nights.. it cost me my laptop for a week, but the room's all ours," she forgets if she'd mentioned that her roommate was famed Brit of their last conversation. Her fingers fiddle with the doorknob and key, always getting mixed up with which key belonged where. After a minute of fighting with keys, the door opens and a tiny room appears behind it. "I'm sorry the bed is tiny and there's no air conditioning," she clicks the door closed and turns to face him. Her cool is thrown away as she pushes herself up on her tippy toes and reaches her hand around his neck to pull him in for a long kiss.

[Deleted]

He can't keep the grin off his face as he glances round, everything exactly as he imagined it would be when she said she was working here. It was insane that they could both end up in the same place doing such very different things, him swanning about a beach with a beautiful woman modelling underwear, her here, working to save an actual species. If he was the reflective type he would wonder what the fuck it was he saw in her, but as it was he was happy to be here with her, Charlotte seeming just as happy to see him as he was to see her. "Oh you charmer," he says in reply to her compliment, unable to keep his hands to himself, slipping his arms around her waist as he walked behind her. He lets go of her as she mentions Roger, who he assumes to be his rival Brit. Roommates? Momentarily irked, he looks over his shoulder and catches the eye of a burly and very disappointed looking man, and the sight is enough to stop him being too mad about it. After all, here she was, showing him to her room. "Poor Roger. I guess it'll just be him and his hand from here on out," he said, letting go of her as she fumbled with the keys. "Any time today would be fine," he jokes, though soon they're in and her lips are on his in a kiss he returns fervently. He lets his bag drop to the floor, hands finding the small of her waist and pulling her in against himself roughly. "The bed'll do," he said slightly breathlessly, grinning down at her. She was more beautiful than he remembered, which was a feat. "Here," he pulled out his phone, crouching slightly so they were more on a level, "I promised my mum a selfie." Before she can protest he's clicking away, his face scrunched up in a stupid expression with the sound of the faux shutter.

[charlotte lemeir]

"Ha-ha," she laughs dryly at his joke, pouting through her fight with the door, "the locks are so rusty you never know which key's works." Through there inside, pulling each other closer. His large hands feel familiar against her waist, and she gets a rush of butterflies when his lips touch hers just as hungrily. She smiles up at him, her lips trailing kisses all over his neck, "it's got good bounce." Her hazel eyes look down to see him pull out his phone and place it in front of them. "No, stop," she cries, ducking from the camera and wiggling away from his grip. "I'm not as photogenic as you.. you're a model, you should know all about lighting," she sits on the bed and covers herself with a pillow. "There was a mood and you killed it."

[Deleted]

It wasn't like Charlotte to be so openly keen, the brunette usually playing coy when it came to showing how interested she was. It was a relief to find that she actually wanted him around, since he wanted so desperately to be around her always. He laughs at her comment, tilting an eyebrow. "How are the... uh... bosses is the wrong word. The people who run the show, are they cool with your devastatingly handsome boyfriend just rocking up here and ravishing you when you should be tending to the monkeys?" He can't help but laugh again at her reaction to the phone, returning her pout. "Not photogenic, you? It'd be mission impossible to take a bad picture of you. C'mere," he said, taking her hand and pulling her up from the bed. "I know it's hard to measure up to me, but I'll give you your best chance. Stand by the window, here," he positions her next to him, holding the phone up at a flattering height, the window flooding her flawless features with natural light. "Now smile." Before she can he's kissing her again, taking a quick picture. "Look! We're so cute, let's be Facebook official."

[charlotte lemeir]

Charlotte had both anxiously and excitingly been anticipating Oscar's arrival all week. Even those around her who she had known for only a month had noticed a skip in her step, and a generally brighter manner. Stephanie had even asked why she was in such a good mood, to which Charlotte just happily shrugged and said her twentieth birthday was in a few days. Yesterday she had practically turned the shared dorm upside down to get rid of any indication of Roger. "I told them it was my birthday and my friend was in town, they practically handed it to me on a silver platter," she fiddles with the 'Lottie' necklace around her neck, her eyes like round moons when they look up at him. "No, no no," she whines again but allows her hand to be taken and her body be manipulated into frame. He says smile and she begins to make a big troll-like show of her teeth, but his lips land on hers before she can pull an ugly face together. "No, that's so lame," she looks at the picture and they are cute, devastatingly so. She showers him with a few more kisses, threading her fingers through his for a split second before pulling away and tugging him towards the door. "If all you're going to do is take pictures, let's get you a better subject."

[Deleted]

"Your friend, huh?" he said, though it was with that trademark grin. It was typical of Oscar to see a potentially awkward situation and dive headfirst into it, preferring to charge through rather than avoid it. "You're lame. I'm sending it, it's sent, my mum's gonna die." Excited to see the monkeys he lets her start to lead him away, before something occurs to him.  "Wait, wait. I know you said no presents, but..." he started, reaching over to his bag. The first thing that came to hand was his modelling portfolio, a bulky, matte black book filled with picture after picture of his shirtless self. "I wanted you to have this," he said, handing it to her with both hands and a solemn look on his face. Cracking up, he chucked it to the side, "kidding. Really I got you something shit, but I figured we could do your birthday properly when you're back in New York. I'll take you to dinner, we can see your friends, the works." He fished out the real presents; a box of expensive chocolates, a framed picture of Fez and, to cap it all off, a mug with a picture of him and Fez emblazoned on the side. He chucked them on the bed one by one, finally finding the card, which he handed to her with a kiss on the cheek. On the front of the card was a detailed biro drawing of a monkey, happy birthday bunting held up in its hands. "I figured I'd draw you a card. My parents always do it for me and it's a bit better than the shit you get in WH Smith, right? Happy Birthday, beautiful."  Uncharacteristically sheepish, he scratched at the back of his neck as he opened it, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's not my best, I'm rusty as fuck."

[charlotte lemeir]

"You're my friend, aren't you?" She teases, knowing he won't take offence. She's completely shy and awkward about being so infatuated with him, she hardly knows how to act outside a layer of sheets. "The worst," though she rolls her eyes at him, she's beaming on the inside over his mother's approval as she'd been so worried about her hating her when she was over. His hand slips away and she watches as he moves towards his bag, "no! Stop, donate it." Her curious fingers open up the thick black cover to the portfolio and her eyes are created by a six pack covered in baby oil. "The worst!!" she pushes his chest and glares at him. Charlotte's not fully equipped for what comes next. His words make her shake her head and she stands awkwardly by the door, "why are you like this?" She watches as he removes present after present, each so carefully chosen with her in mind. Her brows sink in the centre and she thinks she might cry, unsure how to deal with such generosity and thoughtfulness. Her hands take the card and her eyes take it in. She's very left brained and can barely draw a line, so she's in awe of any creative talent no matter how minimal. She's completely taken with the card, and she's quiet as she focuses on each stroke of pen that make up the monkey. "I don't think I've done anything to deserve this.. you're going to make me cry, it's the best birthday present I've ever gotten," she moves past him to prop the card up on her bedside table and lifts the other items beside it. "I can't even draw a stickman," she closes her arms around his torso and looks up for a kiss. "Thank you. I like you, I missed you, and there's no question about you getting laid tonight."

[Deleted]

"Oh, I'm your friend alright," he says, pulling her in for another rough kiss, putting one hand up against the door so she can't lead him out just yet. Any trace of tiredness has well and truly gone, in its place the horniness of a twenty year old boy who hadn't seen his girlfriend in months. He didn't care about being in one of the most stunning countries in the world, the sun, the monkeys, the delicious local cuisine-- he could have been anywhere, so long as he had her and a bed, any bed would do. But if there was one thing that took precedence over his desires, it was her twentieth birthday. Putting aside his lust, he threw the gifts around haphazardly, embarrassed by how unimpressive they were. "I'm like this because you're like this," he said, gesturing to her perfect figure in the pretty dress, though it was disingenuous of him to suggest that what they had was based purely on looks. How could it be just physical, when she was as cute as this? Relief visibly flooded through him as she beamed at the gifts. Here was a woman who could have had a gold plated Ferrari if she had asked for one, delighted with a novelty mug and some chocolates. She's looking at them like they're the most impressive thing in the world and it makes him laugh, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "I got you a mug with my face on it Lottie, you don't have to be so Charlie Bucket about it," inwardly she's thrilled that she's thrilled, getting a real kick out of seeing her place the card beside her bed. "You've done plenty to deserve it, believe me," he said, smiling into a kiss. "Happy Birthday," he repeats, "I like you too, I missed you more, and I don't even care that you're turning me into an absolute melt. Now come on, are you going to show me some primates or what?"

[charlotte lemeir]

Charlotte doesn't remember being this giddy about someone since she met Justin Bieber when she was twelve. Then it was a tummy full of butterflies, she couldn't even say her name when he asked for it and even though he signed her poster 'To Claire, Love Justin' she still pinned it on her wall for the entirety of 2009. She feels so affectionate, it's pure puppy dog love the way she beams at him when he pecks her sunkissed head. "It's not just a mug with your face on it, it's the mug I'm going to drink my coffee out of for the next how-ever-long," she wraps her arms around him and stretches up for another full mouthed kiss. She doesn't think she could get tired of kissing him, she could kiss him till her lips fell off. "I love making you melt," she smiles cheekily, her thumbs slipping beneath the belt of his pants to pull him impossibly closer. "Okay, okay, I can't in this though, that'll be a disaster," she refers to the dress, thinking that one false more could lead to a baby baboon crawling up her skirt. "Close your eyes and turn around, you'll ruin your treat," she pushes him to face the wall. She pulls a side zipper and shimmies out of the dress, an all too expensive set of pastel blue lingerie making a quick appearance before she pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. "You didn't peek, did you?" her hand snakes underneath his shirt and she playfully pinches his back. She can't help a final kiss in private before adventuring off, her pink lips meeting his briefly before she grabs his hand and opens the door. "Let's get you a baby baboon."

[Deleted]

He can't keep the smile off his face as she promises to drink out the mug forever, pleased to have gotten it right. He had agonised over what to get her that wouldn't offend, begging every woman he knew to give him ideas and despairing when they said all that mattered was that it be something thoughtful. He also got a thrill out of the idea of her drinking out of the mug once he'd gone, a not-so-subtle reminder to anyone (cough, Roger, cough) that she had a boyfriend, albeit a tacky one who literally put images of his face on things. "You're a ridiculous girl," he said, returning her kiss sweetly, resisting the urge to drag her over to bed. What's not so easy to resist is the temptation to peek as she gets changed. He puts his hands up over his eyes to make it easier to cheat, but forever one step ahead of him Lottie makes him face the wall, in turn making him groan. "This is so unfair," he says at the sound of the zipper, every inch of him desperate to turn round but managing to resist, convinced it would pay off in the long run. She had him well trained. He laughs as she pinches him, wide-eyed with the defiance of a child. "No! I'm good as gold these days," he said, though he reached over to the neckline of her t-shirt, pulling it back for a quick glimpse of blue lingerie. He groaned again, pulling her in for a hug. "Wish I hadn't done that to myself," he admits, though what he won't admit to is the little rush he gets from her taking his hand. "Promise it won't rip my face off? I don't know if I've mentioned this, but it's my livelihood, y'know."

[charlotte lemeir]

"It's for your own good!," she says to his cries. When learning of his visit, Charlotte had spent some time scouring the internet for a nice set of lingerie. With no expectation of getting laid she'd packed for her trip to Africa were sports bras and comfortable panties. Spending stupid amounts of money on nice underwear wasn't something that she was okay with. But with the relationship still being fresh, she still found the need to impress him. Plus she'd found the gorgeous set on sale at La Perla for half off. Charlotte bats his hands away when he grabs the neck of her cotton shirt, "you are such a dog." Her hand slips around his larger one and she yanks him out of her room, locking the door behind him. "Oh! I forgot to show you!" she lets go of his hand and lifts hers up to his face. There sits an two inch line along the fat of her thumb, jagged and pink as hell. "I had the stitches taken out last week. It only looks terrible because the vet stitched it up," knowing he'll be horrified, she grins with pride. She fishes her arm around his, "there's the kitchen. The food's not that good, but my mom sent me over a care package yesterday. It's in a cupboard with my name on it." Two girls breeze by them, each pair of their eyes stealing a long glance at Oscar as they move past. The tiny brunette leads him from one building to another, the next more medical and white looking. "There's only two orphans right now. I asked it we could feed them," she leads him into a room and lets go of his arm. "They're outside, but we have to wash our hands. "

[Deleted]

"Me, a dog? Please, I'm showing a huge amount of restraint right now." He allows himself to be hauled out of the room, though truthfully all he wanted was to have more time with her one on one. It took some getting used to, as Oscar was notorious amongst his friends as the person with the least interest in commitment. Usually girlfriends annoyed him and were more of a hindrance to his lifestyle than a positive addition, but with Charlotte it was different, he couldn't stop pining for her when she wasn't around and pawing at her when she was. "Jesus," he winced as she waved her wounded thumb in his face, batting her hand away as a faint sense of nausea crept up on him, "get that out of my face before I vom." He squeezes her arm as she threads it in his, unable to keep the smile off his face as she shows him around. He looks around as she speaks but can't keep his eyes off her, always returning his gaze to her as she speaks, appreciating her enthusiasm. He washes his hands as instructed, glad for it, his mild OCD appeased by the action. "Ok, but one last thing before we go in there," he said, bending down to kiss her yet again, though this time he took it slow, enjoying the kiss for what it was rather than what it could be. "Ok, ready!'

[charlotte lemeir]

She grins, an odd sense of pride taking over her as she successfully grosses him out. She stretches her arm out and waves her hand in the light, "you should have seen it a week ago. The bruising! The puss!" She laughs, her pace becoming quicker and more excited as they enter the rehabilitation building. Charlotte was overjoyed she had someone from her home-life see how she was spending her summer. There was only so many, 'that's nice, Charlie's her mom could give her and her dad was just plain worried. To have Oscar to report that she was well and alive, it was something. She washes her hands next to him, pumping a dime sized amount of pink soap and scrubbing the lengths of her fingers underneath a stream of water. She smiles as he kisses her, her damp hands meeting around his neck and her chest pushing into his. "You're an addict," she laughs, her long lashes batting at him as she waves him forward. "Okay, so I didn't name them but that one's Tater," they open the door and her eyes look for the small primate in the wire enclosure. He appears on a branch resting against the wire wall, his big amber eyes looking at them and his head turning to the side. Charlotte crouches down on the bed of straw, "and that one's Tot," another baboon appears, crawling on all fours as he rushes to her. "He banged his head, see?" her hand runs underneath a lumpy scar on his skull, "so he's a little more socialized. Tater will join soon, just pretend he's not there. Come," she reaches for his hand and pulls him closer.