: hold tight

[Deleted]

Something few people expected of Oscar was his penchant for getting up early. Otherwise lazy in the extreme, it was FOMO that made him stir so early, the pressure of time passing without him living it that got him up and out of bed without much of a fuss. This thirst for the day didn't extent into any need for productivity, however, and most early mornings the dishevelled young man could be found playing Xbox in his pyjamas, annoying his sisters by occupying the main living room for hours on end. Not today. Today Oscar had woken up as early as ever, but he had relished his own bedroom, sprawled out under the covers he had changed especially the day before. Today, Oscar got to wake up next to his girlfriend, and the sheer glee would have woken him up early even if he hadn't been in the habit. Nuzzling into her and planting a kiss on her neck, he took a second to take her in. Her smell, the warmth of her body, the sight of her perfect skin even first thing in the morning without a lick of makeup. "I'd insist on a morning quickie, but I don't want to make Pam jealous," he said, glancing up at the frayed poster of the Baywatch star with real affection. He sat up and stretched, patting the jetlagged brunette over the covers. "Come on, no rest for the wicked. Actually, I'll get started on breakfast, then come get you in.... uh, half an hour? That's ages. Half an hour." Talking more to himself than Charlotte, he heaved himself out of bed. Retrieving some Adidas tracksuit pants from a drawer, he pulled them on, giving the white t-shirt he was already wearing a sniff and deciding it was ok. "Half an hour," he repeated, collecting his phone and leaving her to sleep.

[charlotte lemeir]

Charlotte was usually an early riser not out of FOMO, but out of fear of being unproductive. She rose often before the sun and usually fell asleep mid-task. During the month of December it was more likely that she was waking up with her head on a textbook than on a pillow. Her mornings began with a thought-out breakfast and a quick study or news session. This morning was different though, as she was jetlagged and thus still comatose at 7AM. When Oscar stirs, she turns her body away from him and grasps the covers. Her frame slips deeper within the covers and begins to disappear, she's afraid that he'll try pull her out of her slumber. He settles against her for a brief moment and she thinks that maybe he'll stay, she welcomes the warmth of his skin against hers before he steals her away. He mumbles something about an hour and she doesn't respond, her body only sinking back into a half-assed sleep. She rolls around now that he's gone, wrapping herself completely in blankets and squeezing her eyes shut. After what feels like ages, she gives up on trying to sleep and sits up. The light of day is beginning to spread its honey glow over the teenage bedroom of Oscar. Original art and comics hang on the wall. There's a large pile of art supplies on a desk. She's endeared by it all, the soft side of her jock-looking boyfriend was her favourite side. She kicks her feet off the bed and scoots over to his closet to grab a cozy looking sweater. Charlotte's too shy to head downstairs on her own. Too wary of running into Harry or Catherine by herself and having to come up with something smart to say when her brain was only half working. So she grabs one of Oscar's comics and hops back under the covers. "It smells good," bacon wafts through the door as he opens it and Charlotte smiles behind a Batman comic. FYI: I AM SORRY THIS IS SHIIIIT

[Deleted]

Oscar padded downstairs of the house he had grown up in, a late Victorian terraced home that he had never truly appreciated until he had been stateside. He remembered the family he had stayed with in New York, how proud they had been of their house being nearly a hundred years old-- he couldn't help but laugh as they said it, not realising how serious they were. He barely knew anyone who lived in a modern property in London, except for perhaps the twins, who'd bought a hugely expensive new build flat in Elephant & Castle. It seemed insane that age would have prestige, when he knew that age created all sorts of issues... as he stepped downstairs the floorboards creaked, you could hear the rush of the central heating struggling to get through the old pipework of the house, the heating itself struggling against the draft from the single paned glass. They were things he'd never noticed before, but now he picked up on them with affection. These small differences seemed huge to him when he was in New York, leaving him sympathetic to Charlotte's predicament. Add in to that the fact that she was extremely introverted where he was a total extrovert, he couldn't imagine what a huge leap of faith it was for her to come stay, and so he didn't expect her to emerge of her own accord. Instead, he gave her an extra fifteen minutes beyond the thirty he had promised, finally returning to his room once breakfast was very nearly done. Of course she was up and ready, and the sight of her holding a comic gave him a thrill that he couldn't quite explain. "Bacon always smells better than it tastes," he said with a small grin, his usual bravado giving way to genuine modesty. He glanced at her jumper, eyebrow raised, "making yourself comfortable?" He grins at her, sensing her slight discomfort. "Come on, my parents aren't up yet. They're both way lazier than us."

[charlotte lemeir]

As much as it pleases Oscar, Charlotte isn't really reading the comic in her hands. She's flipping through it, her light eyes looking at the pictures and vaguely recognizing characters. When he comes in she brings her knees to her chest, creating a tent out of the duvet covering her body. "I thought leaving New York for England was tropical," she refers to her own luggage, which was full of light sweaters. She wants him to come back to bed and just spend the morning beneath the covers. But that seems inappropriate under his parents roof, so he lifts her disheveled self from his bed. She's so shy about displays of affection that she scoots past him without touching him, her bare feet swift on the hardwood. "I love it here," she explains. Charlotte had arrived late last night, and though she was here once before, it was still a bit of a shock how different it was from her mother's place. Vegas' home though beautiful was neat and organized. Oscar's home was cluttered in an curated and artistic sense. There were painted abstract portraits rather than professional photographs, and every square foot hosted a new interest. "Where's Fez? Did you let him out?" she forced him into a crate the night before, having been concerned that he would have stress chewed everything in sight.

[Deleted]

He laughs at her comment, glancing at her suitcase that's stood conspicuously by the wall. Really it was only conspicuous to him. Catherine and Harry were both completely artistic types, scatterbrained and more concerned with living than tidying. Whilst their house was never a mess, there was clutter everywhere - framed pictures leaning against walls, waiting to be put up for an eternity, piles of magazines with mentions of Cat, kids drawings and family photographs left haphazardly on most surfaces. By contrast Oscar's room was exceptionally organised. Mildly OCD, he liked bare surfaces and everything as ordered as possible, with his clothes organised by colour inside his wardrobes, his comics displayed alphabetically on the shelves (and even then it was only the ones with the least noisy spines he could stand to have on display). The suitcase didn't have a place in the room, but he forced himself not to twitch about it, instead following her out into the much more crowded hallway. "I'm glad you like it," he said, and he meant it. In earlier days he had worried if she wouldn't be put off by his more humble background, though it was laughable that a big house in Islington could be considered humble by anyone. He paused, realising he couldn't hear the dog, forgetting entirely that he should be able to. "Oh fuck, yeah! My dad must have taken him out after all." As if on cue, they walked downstairs to see a shape through the glass of the front door, the hallway filled with the sound of the unlocking door and Fez's barks. In seconds Harry Rutherford appeared, and Oscar beamed as the excitable dog bounded up to him. Laughing, he settled him, nodding at his dad. "Alright? How was he?" he asked, crouching down to rub behind Fezzik's ears. "A joy. All this time we've lived by that park and finally I've had an excuse to walk round it. Hi," Harry said, smiling at Charlotte and holding out his hand, "so good to see you. How was your flight?"

[charlotte lemeir]

One thing Charlotte doesn't excel at is change. It takes her ages to settle in, or accept any life altering event. Sam and Vegas were a good example of this, she had shut up about it but was still very much rooting for Sam to come through. Africa was a second example, it took a month out of her two and a half months to settle into the area. Oftentimes she would find work to busy herself and that was a tactic she would certainly use at Cambridge. Now in England, she found herself awkward around even her favourite person. She was so worried about coming across as cold and uptight that perhaps she was portraying herself as so. For a second Charlotte thinks the worst, and her face shows it. Her eyebrows crease as she thinks about her black dog yanking Mr. Rutherford around before dragging him into London traffic. "Do you think.." but the door opens are Fezzik bursts in, his clumsy and excitable body threatening to knock things off tables and walls as he spots Oscar and breaks free. "Oh Fez," Charlotte crouches down with Oscar to wrap her arms around the dog like he's a safety blanket and dab his temple with a kiss. "Hi," she smiles up meekly before rising to eye level. She shakes Harry's hand, "it was good.. really busy." Stuck in a middle seat with two nervous wine-loving fliers wouldn't have been her favourite way to spend eight hours of her life. Charlotte can't imagine what she looks like. Her hair frizzy and standing up, her eyes black and tired, wearing Harry's sweater and leggings covered in dog hair. "I made it though. Thank you for taking him out, I know he's a little weird..." she looks down at the dog, who rolls over for his belly rub and looks wildly at the crowd, "maybe more than a little."

[Deleted]

Having a happy dog bounding up to see him was such a thrill to Oscar, who would never admit this out loud, but missed the whole world of baby and dogsitting tremendously. Lacking drive though he was, having either small children or animals to depend on him had given him purpose, and he had felt a little stunted since moving back home to his parents' house. This wasn't helped by how tremendously driven and successful Charlotte was. Still, he didn't resent her for it, and he was happy to live in the moment, Fez licking his face as his dad spoke to his girlfriend. For a second he expects Harry to pull her in for a hug and he stares at his father, willing him not to, all to aware of how tempted he'd be and how awkward she'd feel if he did. "No no, thank you for bringing him! I've always wanted a dog but Cat drew the line at two kids. You've got to pick your battles," Harry said with a smile, avoiding Oscar's glare. "I should be thanking you for putting up with Osc, he's a little weird too. Alright, more than a little."  Sighing heavily at Harry's predictable dad jokes, he pulled Charlotte away, leading them both into the kitchen. "Here, how much bacon do you want? Sausages? I've made you a full English, there's no other way to see your first day in," he said, pushing beans, scrambled eggs and hash browns onto three plates. "I've only made enough for four, five at a push. If the twins want any you're making it,"  he said to Harry, uncharacteristically bossy. "Aye aye captain. Though your mother won't want that much either, and Simone's on a vegan kick," Harry caught his eye and they exchanged a small grin. "Again?" "Again."  Oscar turned to Charlotte, pulling up a seat next to her at the breakfast bench, "shit, I forget you haven't met Si. There's always something with her, she's vegan, she's gluten intolerant, she doesn't eat animals with the same star sign as her... whatever, she's full of shit. You'll probably love her, everyone does."

[charlotte lemeir]

Charlotte is polite with Harry. She's heard and witnessed that he's a typical dad, full of bad jokes and teasing. Though she's too uncomfortable to joke back, she's afraid she'll end up insulting generations of Oscar's family if she does. “Oh no,” she looks down at Oscar, her heart melting as Fez covers his face in sticky kisses, “he's just weird enough.” She's forever grateful that she's tugged into the kitchen, she slides onto a bar stool and peaks over at the fry on the stove. “You never told me you good at anything but flexing?” she grins a little, watching as he pushes food onto a plate before she's even answered. “Just a little.” Her body feels as though it's 2AM rather than 8AM, and she's not had enough to drink to crave a full meal. “Vegan sausage in the freezer,” Catherine makes a sudden appearance, her long ginger mane is pulled into a quick ponytail as she enters the kitchen. “Good morning all,” the small woman plants a habitual kiss on her husband's lips and squeezes Oscar's shoulder. “We've been so excited to have you, Charlotte. Oscar's been cleaning for days,” she and Charlotte share a grin. "Looks a bit dusty," kids Charlotte, raising a brow at Oscar. “I'm away at the studio all day but I'll be back for dinner. Really, Charlotte, make yourself at home. The fridge is yours, don't hesitate to make a mess. Don't let these two get into trouble... there's an on going Nerf gun war, so watch your eyes,” the redhead makes her way around the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee while munching on a hashbrown, she flicks a stray Nerf bullet at Harry. Charlotte watches with a smile, the gestures of Oscar's parents somewhat foreign to her. She digs into her own breakfast and forks a bit of sausage into her mouth.

[Deleted]

Warmed plates heaving with food, Oscar wills his dad not to say anything about the fact this was absolutely out of the ordinary. The truth was that he had gone to three separate shops to source the very best ingredients for this breakfast, and before she had arrived late last night he had been fussing around the kitchen, making sure everything was in and ready to go. Harry had watched with bemusement as his usually lazy son panicked, realising for the first time quite how smitten he was. "Don't say I'm good until you've tried it," he said, giving her just as big a portion even though she requested the opposite. He put the heavy pan down, leaning over to swipe a piece of crisp, dry bacon off of her plate. "Spoiler: I am really good," he said with a grin, coming round the other side of the island to pull up a stool next to her. "Vegan sausage can stay in the freezer," Oscar replied, glancing up at his mother. Her hair glinted copper in the skylight, Harry's eyes lingering on her longer than Oscar's did, taking her in as he did almost every morning. Then she outs him and Oscar puts his fork down abruptly, giving her a 'did you have to say that?' look that's wasted as she makes knowing eye contact with Charlotte. Of course Charlotte knew. "Thanks mum, I was trying to play it cool but as ever, you've destroyed me." Harry laughs, always amused by Oscar's embarrassment. To make matters worse he got up and crept up behind Cat, slipping an arm around her tiny waist and bringing his head down to the crook of her neck. "Look at them," he said, grinning at the couple, "remember when we were like that? Me making you breakfast, trying desperately to impress you..." Oscar's cheeks flushed scarlet, feeling the edge of a temper tantrum coming on. Harry laughed, releasing his wife to hold his hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok. Come on, I'll give you a lift to the studio, lest our son murder me in our own kitchen. See you two kids in a bit."

[charlotte lemeir]

While Charlotte's shy about forms of PDA, the Rutherfords clearly are not. It's clear where Oscar's romanticism comes from, Cat and Harry seem like they're still in that honeymoon stage of love. Charlotte shakes her head at Oscar as he boasts, though she definitely agrees that it's really good. She was much like her own mother in the food department – she could barely scramble an egg and often ended up calling for takeout. She liked the idea of Oscar trying to impress her, it made her feel tremendously better about changing into a sexier outfit in a bathroom stall before meeting him at the airport last night. Lottie laughs a little too hard as Oscar slams his fork down. Her crooked smile spews giggles and she shoves a hashbrown in her mouth to stifle herself. She's loving every moment, but if it were her parents she would be mortified. Poor Oscar. Cat lifts her hand to Harry's cheek lovingly and sways with in his arms, “oh I remember,” she says softly, “I remember calling the fire department.” Mother and son lock eyes and Cat moves with her husband, “I'll take him for the day, we'll be back around five. Love you both, have fun.” Charlotte waits till she hears the door click before she returns to laughing, “I'm really impressed,” she says through her giggles.