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[color=808080][color=9fc9a8][b]#9fc9a8[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://i.pinimg.com/1200x/4c/28/ac/4c28ac2493376feac092202b11c044b3.jpg][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [color=737e62][b]#737e62[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/2vHJjir][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]around town[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Morning light crawled slowly across the cabin floorboards, pale gold slipping through the frost-kissed window beside Charlotte's bed and stretching long across thick rugs and worn wood. The fire in the little stove had died sometime during the night, leaving behind dark coals and the lingering scent of smoke buried into the walls. Cold had crept in while she slept, settling into blankets and pillows and the exposed slope of her shoulder where she'd kicked half the comforter away hours ago. The cabin itself still carried pieces of Warren and Harlan in it if she looked hard enough. The uneven shelf near the far wall leaned just slightly because Warren swore he could eyeball measurements better than a level, and Harlan had hammered the little hooks beside the door in crooked because he'd been laughing too hard at one of her complaints to pay attention.

Her phone began vibrating angrily against the nightstand. Charlotte groaned into her pillow before blindly slapping a hand toward the sound and dragging the thing beneath the blankets with her like it had personally offended her. One eye cracked open. The other stayed shut out of principle. [color=9FC9A8]"Hhllo?"[/color] she mumbled, except the word came out somewhere between a grunt and a dying animal noise.

A warm laugh immediately crackled through the speaker. [i][color=3c6c6b]"Morning, sunshine!"[/color][/i] Warren's voice rolled easily through the phone, entirely too awake for the hour. Charlotte stared at the ceiling with the deep exhaustion of someone reconsidering every friendship she'd ever made. [i][color=3c6c6b]"Need you to go pick up Harlan. I stole his truck. Free oil changes for a year if you play taxi."[/color][/i]

Silence stretched for a beat while Charlotte rubbed both hands down her face hard enough to drag skin with it. [color=9FC9A8]"You already give me free oil changes."[/color] Another pause, the line went dead. [color=9FC9A8]"God, I hate you."[/color]

She didn't, obviously. Not even a little. Still muttering under her breath, Charlotte eventually dragged herself out of bed and wandered toward the tiny bathroom attached beside the bedroom. By the time she emerged, she'd managed to look mostly alive again. Olive cargo pants sat low at her waist beneath a worn dark tank while an oversized charcoal corduroy button-up [i](stolen directly from Harlan’s closet)[/i] hung open overtop. Her hair still carried curls from sleep, messy in a way she'd given up fighting years ago, and a small stone pendant rested against her collarbone while she shoved necessities into her backpack. Temperatures had dropped overnight, but it wasn't cold enough to justify effort.

Not even twenty minutes later her old Jeep Laredo rumbled down the road toward Harlan's place. The thing looked exactly like something Charlotte McCoy would drive; sun-faded copper paint, oversized tires still carrying dried mud along the wheel wells, leather seats worn smooth with age, and enough personality crammed into the vehicle to qualify as sentient at times. The doors were still off, because things like "weather protection" and "reasonable choices" had never interested her much, though she knew it was only a matter of time before Warren showed up to put them back on while she was sleeping. Pine trees blurred by while cold wind threaded through loose strands of hair and rushed through the cabin. By the time Harlan's cabin came into view, Charlotte was already snickering to herself.

She pulled right up beneath his bedroom window and threw the Jeep into park with absolutely no shame whatsoever. The engine idled loudly while she leaned across the seat and looked up toward the cabin with complete confidence in her life choices. Then she slammed her hand against the horn and held it there. Once. Twice. Three times for good measure. [color=9FC9A8]"Rise and shine, Boone!"[/color] she shouted out the open side of the Jeep, voice carrying through crisp morning air. [color=9FC9A8]"Get your ass up! I know your old man routine includes coffee and pretending you're mysterious before noon!"[/color] Her smile widened slightly as she settled back into her seat. Honestly, she didn't mind. Harlan liked his morning coffee from the diner, Warren had stolen his truck like the menace he was, and both of them had built her home with their own hands. Families came in all sorts of weird shapes.

Holidays were meant for sleeping in and while his alarm was still set to go off in about two minutes, that didn’t make him anymore prepared for the rude awakening that pulled up outside his house. When the horn blared just beyond his bedroom window, Harlan woke with such startling force that he rolled over abruptly, blankets twisting around him just before he tipped over the edge and landed face down on the cold, hard floor. He groaned against the old tattered area rug, feeling the wolf stir just beneath his skin, under the haze of morning grogginess. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pushed off the ground. He peeled the blankets from where they knotted around him and tossed them onto the bed before stumbling half awake through his small cabin.

His fingers curled around the handle to the front door and yanked it open with enough unintentional brute force that he nearly ripped it from its hinges, only stopping when he heard the wood groan and splinter beneath the pressure. [color=737e62]"Charlotte Ann McCoy—"[/color] Harlan took one step forward, paused, then turned to find a hot pink post-it note stuck to the window of his door with his brother’s chicken scratch scrawled across it. 

[color=3c6c6b][i]Stole the old clanker. Don’t worry, didn’t hot wire it this time. Charlotte will pick you up, I’m going to harass her. See you at the festival! (You have to dress up this year dude, or you can wear the costume I got you?)[/i][/color]

Harlan drew in a deep breath, the frigid morning air burning the inside of his lungs as he dragged his gaze over to the spot where he usually parked his truck, finding it glaringly void of said truck. [color=737e62]"[i]Asshole,[/i]"[/color] he grumbled under his breath as he stepped out onto his porch. Bare feet thudded against the rough, uneven planks as he walked the length of his house toward the loud, roaring Jeep that sat waiting for him. He stepped into view, black hair faintly streaked gray stood up, wild and untamed in every direction. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, while old long johns, worn and tattered along the knees and hems clung to his legs, and dangled precariously from his hips. [color=737e62]"Turn off that dinosaur before you put another hole in the ozone layer and get your ass inside, I still gotta shower."[/color]

Before she could say anything else, Harlan trudged his way back inside, leaving the front door wide open, knowing damn well she was going to follow… because she always did. He didn’t wait around to hear the engine shut off or for the loud heavy thuds of Charlie’s hiking boots walking along the porch before he hopped into the shower. 

Charlotte grinned to herself the moment the engine died beneath her hand, satisfaction settling warm in her chest as silence finally reclaimed the morning. Harlan looked exactly like she expected him to look after being ripped out of sleep; hair exploding in every direction, eyes narrowed beneath a glare that had absolutely no bite behind it, old long johns hanging on through sheer determination. She slipped out of the Jeep and hurried up the porch steps before the cold could settle properly into her skin, brushing past him with a casual bump of her shoulder as she ducked into the cabin. [color=9FC9A8]"Morning to you too, sweetheart."[/color] She called out after him.

By the time Harlan disappeared into the shower, Charlotte had already declared war on his kitchen. Cabinet doors opened and shut while she inspected shelves with increasing disappointment etched across her face. [i][color=9FC9A8]Crackers. Beef jerky. Three cans of soup. Why did men live like abandoned forest cryptids?[/color][/i] Her nose wrinkled before she finally unearthed a box of blueberry Pop-Tarts shoved toward the back of the pantry, slightly dusty. [color=9FC9A8]"Blueberry?"[/color] she muttered aloud with genuine offense. [color=9FC9A8]"Disgusting."[/color] Still, she tore one open and threw herself across the couch like a cat claiming territory, socked feet hanging over one armrest as she crunched through her mediocre breakfast with all the dignity of a raccoon stealing food from a campsite.

It didn’t take him long to get cleaned, ten minutes tops. Harlan took as long as any man did to dry off, so barely at all, ruffling his hair with a towel before tying it around his waist to catch whatever drips still ran along his skin. He quickly wet his toothbrush and put a dollop of toothpaste along the bristles before he stepped back out into the small common area of his cabin. His gaze drifted over toward Charlie, lazy, tired, and definitely annoyed. [color=737e62]"Why do you let Warren rope you into his shit?"[/color] he grumbled. He raised his brows toward her as he started brushing his teeth and wandering his way back down the hall toward his bedroom. 


About ten minutes later she heard footsteps crossing old floorboards and tipped her head toward him, immediately snorting at the expression on his face. [color=9FC9A8]"Free oil changes,"[/color] she deadpanned around another bite, because they both knew perfectly well Warren already serviced her Jeep for free. Her eyes swept over him once before she huffed out a laugh and balled up the wrapper in her hands. [color=9FC9A8]"Aren't you cold? Jeez, you're like a dog. Go dry off."[/color] She wandered toward the kitchen as she spoke, tossing the wrapper neatly into the trash before her attention snagged on the coffee maker sitting abandoned on the counter. Brows furrowed, she picked up the coffee tin and opened it, only to stare down at the empty bottom with visible disappointment. Then she opened the fridge and stared inside for a long moment, expression flattening further with every shelf, darkening when she spotted the expiration date on his milk. [i][color=9FC9A8]Men,[/color][/i] she sighed internally, already rearranging her plans for the day while eyeing his kitchen with the grim resolve of someone preparing humanitarian aid.

[color=737e62]"Do I [i]look[/i] cold?"[/color] he grumbled around the toothbrush in his mouth as he hooked his foot on the bedroom door and pushed it most of the way closed. Harlan had just pulled the towel from his waist and paused, naked and confused with furrowed brows as he stared at the ceiling. [color=737e62]"[i]Free oil changes?[/i]"[/color] he echoed in disbelief, before tossing aside his towel and wandering into his closet for fresh clothes.

Charlie glanced toward him at the first question and immediately regretted it. Morning light spilled across the room in pale gold bands, catching against damp skin and broad shoulders while steam still curled faintly through the half-open bedroom door behind him. Her eyes lingered for exactly one second too long before she snapped them upward toward the ceiling with remarkable determination. Heat crept warm into her cheeks despite herself.

[color=9FC9A8]"...No,"[/color] she admitted with a short snort, lips twitching helplessly at the corners. [color=9FC9A8]"Certainly not cold."[/color] The smile that followed widened further when his deeply offended repetition of [i]free oil changes[/i] floated back out from the bedroom. She leaned back against the couch cushions, folding her arms loosely while laughter hummed low in her chest. [color=9FC9A8]"You know Warren thinks he's negotiating like some powerful businessman every time he offers that, right?"[/color]

[color=737e62]"Yeah well, he also thinks he’s Casanova,"[/color] Harlan called out from his closet as he tossed the first set of clean, wearable clothing he could find onto the bed. 

Charlotte wrinkled her nose immediately, expression souring with the practiced ease of someone who'd spent years putting up with Warren Boone's nonsense. Still sprawled across Harlan's couch, she shifted deeper into the cushions and crossed her ankles lazily while staring toward the bedroom doorway. [color=9FC9A8]"He needs someone to ground him,"[/color] she called back, shaking her head. [color=9FC9A8]"He's getting too old for whatever personality crisis he's having being single."[/color]

[color=737e62]"Don’t look at me,"[/color] he replied, calling over his shoulder as he slipped one foot into the leg of his jeans. [color=737e62]"I honestly don’t know if there’s anyone in this town that can… He’s already dated half of them."[/color] Harlan jumped once, denim clinging to his damp legs that he definitely didn’t dry properly before getting dressed. [color=737e62]"Unless you’re offering."[/color] He chuckled, just once, too quiet for Charlie to hear. But just the thought alone was humorous.

Charlotte's entire face wrinkled immediately, nose scrunching as though he'd suggested she lick the bottom of a boot. The reaction came so fast and so genuine that there wasn't a shred of room for interpretation. [color=9FC9A8]"Absolutely not,"[/color] she snorted.

One hand waved vaguely through the air as she tried to untangle a stubborn curl that had wrapped itself around another. Her head shook with such conviction it sent loose strands bouncing around her shoulders. [color=9FC9A8]"If I ever try, I'd trust you to take me straight to the hospital and get my head checked,"[/color] she informed him solemnly. [color=9FC9A8]"Because nothing short of severe head trauma could make me want to date Warren."[/color]

Harlan laughed wryly as he zipped up and buttoned his pants. [color=737e62]"You have any idea how many bets that’d settle if you both dated?"[/color] He blew a quiet raspberry that made the damp hair that hung in front of his forehead bounce slightly. [color=737e62]"Eh, you’re a handful. Warren wouldn’t know what to do with you,"[/color] he added before taking a second to give his teeth a bit more of a proper brushing.

Charlotte gasped so loudly it echoed through the cabin, her hand flying dramatically to her chest as though Harlan had just delivered the cruelest insult imaginable. The couch cushions shifted beneath her as she sat upright, dark curls bouncing around her shoulders while indignation flooded across her face in exaggerated waves. Somewhere between offended and amused, she looked like she was seconds away from filing a formal complaint.

[color=9FC9A8]"I'm [i]not[/i] a handful!"[/color] she called toward the bedroom, scandalized. [color=9FC9A8]"Stop being dramatic!"[/color] Her brows knit together as she pointed accusingly in the general direction of his voice. [color=9FC9A8]"I am delightful. Easygoing, even."[/color] As if to prove her point, she threw her hair over her shoulder and attempted to look as easy going as possible. The effect was lost on him, as he was in a different room, but it was the thought that counted. [color=9FC9A8]"And for the record, Warren's the handful. I just happen to be standing nearby when his bad ideas occur."[/color]

Harlan snorted around his toothbrush and rolled his eyes. [color=737e62]"Yeah, ok."[/color]

A few minutes later he reappeared, jeans fastened around his waist, towel hanging over his shoulder, fresh shirt and socks clutched in his left hand, and his toothbrush tucked in his right cheek. He returned to the bathroom to rinse his mouth and hang up the towel, and by the time he found his way to the living room with Charlie, he was pulling the shirt over his head. Harlan lowered himself onto the couch beside her, taking his time to pull on his socks and old work boots one at a time. [color=737e62]"You know, the least he could do is leave behind his bike if he’s gonna steal my truck,"[/color] he grumbled more to himself than anything. When he braced his right boot against the coffee table and started lacing it, he spared Charlie a quick sidelong glance, continued tying it, paused, then looked over at her again with creased brows. [color=737e62]"Is that my shirt?"[/color]

Charlotte's smile remained fixed on her face, dimpling her left cheek as she shoved her feet back into her hiking boots and looked at him with complete innocence she absolutely did not possess. Morning light spilled through the cabin windows behind him, catching on damp strands of his hair and stretching warm bands of gold across the floorboards between them. She looked perfectly settled there, perfectly at home, sitting on his couch in his shirt like she'd been wandering in and out of his cabin for years because, truthfully, she had. [color=9FC9A8]"Yup,"[/color] she chirped, popping the [i]p[/i] with enough cheerfulness to be irritating on purpose. [color=9FC9A8]"I've got four more hanging in my closet too."[/color]

[color=737e62]"And let me guess,"[/color] he started, tugging the hem of his jeans over the laced boot before dropping his foot to the ground, then propping up the other one to start lacing it. [color=737e62]"If I just bought you shirts—same size, style, and everything—it wouldn’t be the same?"[/color] Harlan looked over at her from beneath wet locks that fell lazy and unkempt in front of his face, dripping water onto the collar of his shirt and the denim along his thighs.

Charlotte hummed thoughtfully like he'd presented her with a genuinely difficult philosophical question, tapping her pointer finger lightly against her chin while she pretended to consider it with grave seriousness. Morning light caught against the grin slowly threatening across her mouth as she looked over at him sprawled there lacing up his boots, damp hair hanging into his face and dripping onto his shirt collar. [color=9FC9A8]"I mean..."[/color] she started slowly, dragging the words out for effect. [color=9FC9A8]"You could certainly try."[/color] Her smirk widened immediately afterward, all crooked amusement and unrepentant fondness. [color=9FC9A8]"I'm always looking to expand my wardrobe."[/color]

[color=737e62]"[i]Hmm,[/i]"[/color] he grumbled, the sound low and gravely coming from somewhere deep in his chest. [color=737e62]"So, [i]you’re[/i] what happened to my favorite red flannel?"[/color] Harlan didn’t look over at her, merely shaking his head, sending small droplets of water flicking off his locks and running along his jaw. [color=737e62]"You could at least steal the clothes I don’t like."[/color]

Charlotte's mouth immediately pulled into a small pout at the accusation. She tightened her arms stubbornly across her chest while looking entirely unrepentant. [color=9FC9A8]"But then it wouldn't be the same,"[/color] she mumbled.

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the flannel hanging from his shoulders before returning to him, expression carrying the quiet certainty of someone who thought this was perfectly reasonable. [color=9FC9A8]"Your good shirts are softer."[/color] She paused. [color=9FC9A8]"And they smell better."[/color] Then, realizing how that sounded, she immediately frowned at the opposite wall. [color=9FC9A8]"That came out weird."[/color]

He rolled his eyes and snorted quietly. [color=737e62]"I feel like it’d be easier to just steal my cologne."[/color]

Charlotte shook her head immediately, stubbornness settling into her expression with familiar ease. One curl finally slipped free from the tangle only to bounce right back across her shoulder again and become tangled once more. [color=9FC9A8]"It wouldn't be the same,"[/color] she said firmly.

Her arms crossed over her chest as though that settled the matter entirely. In Charlie's mind, it did. [color=9FC9A8]"Besides, stealing your shirts is practically a tradition at this point."[/color] She glanced over at him, smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. [color=9FC9A8]"I'm not about to abandon decades of hard work."[/color]

[color=737e62]"Whatever you say,"[/color] Harlan conceded with a faint shake of his head.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows against her knees while watching him lace up his boots with quiet amusement still tugging at the corners of her mouth. Harlan always moved through mornings with this sort of sleepy irritation that never quite landed properly, all rough edges and grumbles. Charlotte had spent enough years around him to know exactly where the real annoyance stopped and the theatrics started. Her eyes drifted briefly toward the kitchen again as she mentally added groceries to the growing list of things she'd apparently be handling today, before something Warren had said earlier floated back into her head.

[color=9FC9A8]"Hey, do you have a costume for the Halloween festival yet?"[/color] she asked casually, though there was already laughter threatening beneath the question. She watched him for a moment, fully aware of the answer before he'd even give it. Harlan never dressed up anymore. Not since they were kids running through the woods with cheap masks and pillowcases stuffed with candy. [color=9FC9A8]"If not..."[/color] she continued slowly, lips beginning to curl, [color=9FC9A8]"...you might wanna sort something out soon."[/color] She bit down against the smile trying to escape and failed miserably. [color=9FC9A8]"Warren said he got you both some cheap vampire costumes."[/color]

Harlan’s foot slipped from the edge of the coffee table and landed on the ground with a loud, incredulous [i]thud.[/i] He stared at Charlie like a second head might sprout out of her shoulder at any minute, or maybe she had brain damage. Both were possible. He groaned, loud and far more dramatic than necessary as he ran his hands over his face and back through his damp hair. [color=737e62]"I don’t [i]wear[/i] costumes,"[/color] he grumbled, pushing off his knees to stand with the aches, groans, and pops of an old man. [color=737e62]"I’ll be a lumberjack."[/color] He let out a quiet, amused chuckle as he grabbed his flannel from the coat rack and pulled it on. 

[color=737e62]"I wouldn’t make a believable vampire anyway. I’m too… [i]hairy.[/i]"[/color] To the universe’s surprise, Harlan actually made a joke. He spared Charlie a sidelong glance that was mostly exhaustion, but there were the faint threads of playfulness hidden somewhere deep beneath it. He pulled open the front door and grimaced at the new squeak and rattle of the hinges. He swung it back and forth a couple times to check it, and even peeked over at the loose screws with a sigh. Something he’d have to fix later. [color=737e62]"Come on, crazy. I’d hate to be late for my one day off,"[/color] he mused, nodding his head toward the outside while holding the door open for her.

Charlotte rolled her eyes so hard it bordered on theatrical as she pushed herself off the couch and followed after him toward the door. Cold mountain air immediately swept through the cabin once he opened it, stirring loose strands of her hair and carrying the sharp scent of pine and damp earth inside with it. [color=9FC9A8]"You're always a lumberjack,"[/color] she corrected dryly, though the amusement in her voice ruined any attempt at sounding serious. 

[color=737e62]"Well, if it ain’t broke,"[/color] he replied as he closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it… Because well, no one in Pine Ridge locked their doors. It wasn’t like he had anything of value and the only people stupid enough to try anything couldn’t cross the threshold without an invitation. He had a key somewhere… [i]probably.[/i]

The snort she let out at his vampire comment came quick and genuine, shoulders shaking faintly with it as she stepped onto the porch beside him. Charlotte rolled her eyes fondly, trying not to laugh. [color=9FC9A8]"I was unaware vampires couldn't be hairy,"[/color] she mused thoughtfully. [color=9FC9A8]"Are they required to wax? The super secret Volturi government must have made that the third rule, right under no changing babies, and no revealing the super secret secret."[/color]

[color=737e62]"The fuck’s a Volturi?"[/color] Harlan’s face contorted into a confused, half asleep grimace that said he should be disgusted, even if he had no idea what she meant. [color=737e62]"I don’t know… Have you ever seen a vampire with a beard?"[/color]

Charlotte looked at him like he'd just admitted to kicking puppies for fun, one hand flying dramatically to her chest over her heart as she stared at him in open betrayal. Cold air rushed through the trees around them, stirring her hair while she backed toward the Jeep with complete theatrical devastation written across her face. [color=9FC9A8]"Twilight, Harlan. [i]Twilight,"[/i][/color] she repeated incredulously. [color=9FC9A8]"I made you watch every single movie with me in high school. I read the books out loud whenever you annoyed me."[/color]

She shook her head slowly, deeply disappointed in him on a spiritual level now. [color=9FC9A8]"You cannot tell me you've blocked out some of our fondest memories together."[/color] Her eyes narrowed slightly as she pointed accusingly at him. [color=9FC9A8]"And for the record, Carlisle absolutely could've pulled off a beard."[/color]

Ok, so maybe Harlan did remember once she jogged his memory. He also remembered finding the only tolerable character to be Charlie, but he also wasn’t going to give [i]his[/i] Charlie the satisfaction of admitting that. Instead looked around slightly dazed and confused as if he had just been woken up all over again. [color=737e62]"Huh? What? Sorry, I was blocking you out."[/color]

Charlotte gasped like he'd just committed a personal betrayal of the highest order. Her hand tightened dramatically around the fabric of her shirt while she stared at him in open disbelief, eyes narrowing into an expression that was far too offended to be genuine.

[color=9FC9A8]"You wound me."[/color] Amusement was already threatening to betray her outrage. Turning briefly, she stuck her tongue out at him with all the maturity of a twelve-year-old. She bumped her shoulder lightly against his as she passed, boots thudding softly against old wooden planks while she twirled her Jeep keys lazily around one finger. Wind stirred the trees surrounding the cabin in slow rolling waves, branches creaking overhead while sunlight filtered pale gold through thinning autumn leaves. Charlotte’s attention drifted toward the woods automatically, years of habit pulling her eyes toward movement and sound without conscious thought. [color=9FC9A8]"Honestly, though..."[/color] she started after a beat, lips twitching again. [color=9FC9A8]"You do kinda have more of a werewolf vibe."[/color]

The words trailed thoughtfully from her while she glanced back toward him again, grin widening just enough to deepen the dimple in her left cheek. Harlan looked perpetually one minor inconvenience away from wandering into the forest and becoming folklore, and frankly she felt justified in saying so. She tilted her head slightly, studying him with exaggerated seriousness as she started backing toward the Jeep. [color=9FC9A8]"Would you wear a dog tail? Maybe some cute fluffy ears?"[/color] she asked finally, entirely too pleased with herself.

Born of instinct, when Charlie looked towards the woods Harlan’s gaze followed, but his easy stature remained, hands still resting in the pockets of his flannel as he followed behind in a slow, lazy stride. He sniffed once, playing it off as the cold or a runny nose, but he didn’t smell anything beyond the normal things that rustled in the underbrush: foxes, squirrels, maybe a coyote. Nothing dangerous. The vamps knew better than to wander around in his and his brother’s neck of the woods. Occasionally a dumbass got reckless, but it was usually safe in that part of the Black Hills… They worked hard to keep it that way. 

[color=737e62]"Werewolves are cooler anyway,"[/color] Harlan commented as he dragged his worn, steel-toed boot across his porch, pushing some mulch and dirt over the edge into the small garden. When he looked back up he caught a proper view of her Jeep. His brows furrowed as he pulled a hand from his pocket to point at her. [color=737e62]"I’m ignoring that,"[/color] he commented, not dignifying her desire to turn him into a furry with a comment. Then his hand shifted, sweeping through the air so that he pointed at her car. [color=737e62]"Charlotte, where the fuck are your doors? It’s October."[/color]

Charlotte made a soft noise of immediate agreement at the statement, nodding once like Harlan had just said something profoundly intelligent instead of defending hypothetical werewolves before seven in the morning. [color=9FC9A8]"See? Exactly. Finally, a man of culture."[/color] The moment he announced he was ignoring the dog ears and tail suggestion, however, she booed him openly without a shred of shame. Her smile widened as she bounded toward the Jeep anyway, boots crunching over gravel while cold mountain air whipped loose strands of hair across her face. [color=9FC9A8]"Coward,"[/color] she informed him cheerfully as she hauled herself up into the driver's seat.

The Jeep rocked slightly beneath her weight while she shoved the key into the ignition and looked over at him with a smile that already screamed guilty conscience. Morning light filtered pale and thin through the trees surrounding the cabin, catching against the orange of the Jeep's frame and the dried mud caked stubbornly beneath the wheel wells. [color=9FC9A8]"I uh... misplaced them?"[/color] she offered finally, giving one small shrug that carried absolutely zero sincerity behind it. The engine roared loudly to life beneath her hand, old enough to sound vaguely offended every time it started, and Charlotte quickly reached for her seatbelt before he could judge her life choices any harder than he already was.

[color=9FC9A8]"The cold never bothered me anyway,"[/color] she quoted dramatically, waving one hand vaguely through the air. [color=9FC9A8]"Or whatever that Elsa chick said."[/color] She smiled faintly as she shifted the Jeep into gear, though amusement still lingered warmly across her face. Honestly, reinstalling the doors took effort, and Charlotte McCoy had never once in her life claimed to be a woman particularly interested in unnecessary effort. [color=9FC9A8]"I'm sure they'll turn up eventually,"[/color] she added with complete confidence, as if detached Jeep doors routinely migrated home on their own like stray cats.

Harlan shook his head, running his fingers back through his wet hair with an exasperated sigh. He didn’t say anything at first, right hand grabbing onto the top of the Jeep as he lowered himself into the passenger seat. He buckled himself in then slouched a bit, long legs bent with his knees pressed against the dashboard. [color=737e62]"I’ll tell Warren to put them back on. Last thing you need is to be driving around without any fucking doors when it starts snowing."[/color] His head rolled against the headrest, turning to look at her with a lazy sort of annoyance. [color=737e62]"I refuse to nurse your sick ass on my couch because you drive around like this."[/color] He motioned his hand back and forth between the lack of doors. 

Charlotte reversed down the driveway in a spray of gravel and fallen leaves, one hand hooked casually over the steering wheel while the other shifted gears with practiced ease. The Jeep rattled and groaned around them as it always did, old enough to have developed opinions about everything. Cold air streamed through the open sides, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and woodsmoke as she eased them onto the road.

[color=9FC9A8]"You still would, and you know it,"[/color] she sighed, the words arriving with the exhausted certainty of someone who had known him far too long to be fooled by complaints. A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she straightened the wheel. Harlan could grumble all he wanted. If she got sick, he'd be the first one shoving soup at her and pretending he wasn't worried.

The smile faded slightly after a moment. Charlotte shrugged one shoulder, eyes remaining on the road ahead as sunlight flickered between passing trees. [color=9FC9A8]"I didn't want to bother him,"[/color] she admitted quietly. The confession sat awkwardly in the space between them for a second before she huffed softly through her nose. [color=9FC9A8]"Or you."[/color]

[color=737e62]"Bullshit,"[/color] Harlan muttered under his breath. There was no malice, just annoyed affection, because if she didn’t want to bother him she definitely wouldn’t have laid on her horn right outside his bedroom window, or accepted his help building her house, or asked for him to build her a pantry… and a dresser… and two nightstands. There was always a grocery list, but he never once complained, and in his own weird, hermit way, it was how he showed he cared.

Her fingers tightened briefly around the wheel before relaxing again. Warren already fixed enough things for her without being asked. Harlan had enough on his plate too. The cabin, the Jeep, the broken fence by the ranger station, the loose step on her porch. Sometimes asking for help felt too much like adding another stone to a pile someone else was already carrying. So she'd simply kept driving without the doors and told herself she'd get around to it eventually. She shot him a quick sidelong glance before looking back toward the road.

[color=9FC9A8]"Besides,"[/color] she added, a little of her usual humor returning, [color=9FC9A8]"If I freeze to death, you can finally get all your flannels back."[/color]

[color=737e62]"If you manage to freeze to death while possessing half of my flannels, then [i]Charlotte McCoy[/i]—"[/color] His head turned dramatically to the left, looking right at her as they drove down the narrow, treelined road. [color=737e62]"You are an idiot."[/color] Thick brows rose toward his damp hairline, silently daring her to argue, before his attention slowly drifted back toward the road and the forest that hugged in close on either side of the car. 

[color=737e62]"What are you doing before the festival?"[/color] Harlan asked, already trying to make time in his day to make her car whole again before flu season was in full swing. [color=737e62]"I can see if Warren has time to spare. I know you store your doors in his garage anyway,"[/color] he added with a faint guilty smile that said he knew her patterns, even when she tried to be spontaneous… She was just as predictable as he was.

Charlotte shook her head immediately, curls bouncing wildly in the wind rushing through the open sides of the Jeep. Sunlight flickered through the pines overhead, strobing across the dashboard while gravel crackled beneath the tires. Her fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, restless with thought as she mentally sorted through the long list waiting for her after breakfast.

[color=9FC9A8]"Pass,"[/color] she said, the answer arriving without hesitation. [color=9FC9A8]"I'm headed to the store and then to hike."[/color] Her eyes stayed on the narrow road winding between towering pines, though she smiled faintly to herself. [color=9FC9A8]"A lot of the tourists coming in for the festival are sticking around for a couple weeks. I need to make sure all the trails are clear before they start wandering off into places they shouldn't."[/color]

The Jeep rounded a bend, revealing another stretch of forest draped in autumn color. Gold leaves flashed between dark evergreens while morning mist still lingered low among the underbrush. Charlotte hummed softly beneath her breath as she mapped routes and trail markers in her head, tracing familiar paths she'd walked often enough to know every fallen log and crooked switchback by memory alone.

[color=9FC9A8]"I've only got three trails left,"[/color] she continued after a moment. [color=9FC9A8]"But the last one's a pain in the ass."[/color] One corner of her mouth curled upward as she glanced briefly toward him. [color=9FC9A8]"Honestly, it'll probably take me two days. I'm tempted to just camp out there and get it over with."[/color] The thought settled comfortably in her chest. A tent, a fire, the forest at night. There were worse ways to spend a weekend than sleeping beneath the pines she'd grown up beneath, though it always brought a form of nostalgia. The years spent camping with Warren, Harlan, and Savannah… she frowned slightly, and pushed the thoughts away. They could be analyzed when she was camping alone.  

Harlan sighed, loud and definitely a bit dramatic, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees before burying his face into his palms. His fingers rubbed aggressively at his eyes as he grumbled her name into his hands. [color=737e62]"[i]Charlie[/i]..."[/color] he drawled. [color=737e62]"You can’t camp out in the woods [i]alone.[/i]"[/color] He quickly held his hands up both surrendering and hushing her before she argued. [color=737e62]"Yeah, I know. I know. You’re a big strong Park Ranger… but it isn’t safe."[/color] He looked over at her with a tired sort of resignation of a man who had this argument far too many times, and he’d keep having it until she listened. Mentally he was shifting things around to free up his night for an unplanned shift, because every time she didn’t listen he was still there, just out of sight making sure she was safe. [color=737e62]"You’re gonna put me in an early grave,"[/color] he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes as his head tipped back against the seat.

Charlotte let out a long sigh through her nose as she shifted gears, one hand loose on the steering wheel while the other rested against the gear lever. Pines gave way to scattered houses as they descended toward town, rooftops beginning to peek through the trees ahead. Morning sunlight spilled across the windshield in pale gold bands, warming one side of her face while cool autumn air curled through the Jeep's doorless frame. She shot Harlan an incredulous look that lasted a full two seconds before returning her attention to the road.

[color=9FC9A8]"Harlan,"[/color] she groaned, drawing his name out like it physically pained her. [color=9FC9A8]"I'll be fine."[/color] One hand lifted briefly from the wheel so she could gesture vaguely toward the backpack sitting behind her seat. [color=9FC9A8]"I have bear mace, emergency supplies, a satellite phone, and enough first aid gear to survive my own terrible decisions."[/color] Her mouth twitched upward. [color=9FC9A8]"And I know you expect something to come eat me in the middle of the night, but I seriously doubt it's anything I can't handle. I am, as you put it, a big strong Park Ranger."[/color]

The Jeep rumbled toward the center of town and rolled to a stop at one of Pine Ridge's two traffic lights. Charlotte stared at the empty intersection ahead of them. No cars. No pedestrians. No reason whatsoever to be sitting there waiting. Her lips pursed thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against the wheel and contemplated simply ignoring the light on principle.

Then a thought occurred to her. [color=9FC9A8]"You could always come with me."[/color]

Her head turned toward him, curls shifting across her shoulder as a smile slowly spread across her face. The expression carried the dangerous sort of innocence that usually preceded bad ideas. [color=9FC9A8]"If you're up for a two-day hike, sleeping in a tent, and eating canned beans and sausage for every meal."[/color] She wiggled her eyebrows at him. [color=9FC9A8]"Real luxury accommodations. Five stars. The raccoons [i]usually[/i] keep to themselves."[/color]

The light finally changed. Charlotte immediately accelerated through the intersection with the enthusiasm of someone personally offended by stoplights. Her laughter drifted into the cool morning air as the diner came into view down the street, already busy with locals beginning their holiday. [color=9FC9A8]"Besides,"[/color] she added, glancing sideways at him again, dimples appearing in her cheeks, [color=9FC9A8]"if you're so worried, that sounds like the perfect solution. You can spend two whole days supervising my poor decision-making in person."[/color]

Harlan tried to keep his facial expression somewhere in the realm of a concerned brother that just didn’t want his friend alone in the woods because of normal things… like bears. But then there were all the missing people, wolves with less self control, or vampires. Somehow Charlie managed to choose the career that sent her into the Black Hills alone, which gave him far more stress than he let on. She often wondered why he was always tired without knowing the lengths he went through to keep those woods moderately more safe for her… Which unfortunately kept her in her rose tinted bubble.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. [color=737e62]"Aside from the tent, that doesn’t sound far off from how I spend my days,"[/color] Harlan commented wryly as the Jeep rolled to a stop in front of the diner. He groaned like a man far older than he was as she climbed out of the car. Boots crunched against dirt and pebbles that dusted the sidewalk as he pivoted, spinning back around. His hands gripped the rollbar over the absent door as he leaned over to look across the cabin toward Charlie. [color=737e62]"As much as I’m sure you’d love the chance to make me miserable for two days straight, I can’t. Tomorrow’s Sunday."[/color] 

For over a year, Harlan has been unavailable Sunday mornings. He woke up early, even when he wanted to sleep in, then went and picked up Mrs. Larson, driving her to her nine a.m. church service, followed by taking her grocery shopping. And after about the fourth consecutive Sunday she started making him lunch whenever they got back, insisting on feeding him since he refused to accept money or let her fill his tank. It was small really, and with how much Mrs. Larson told him he should be spending his weekend with a young lady, he highly doubted she’d mind. But as much as he tried to hide it behind his gruff exterior, he actually enjoyed those quiet Sunday mornings, the simplicity of helping someone who never asked for it. She didn’t have any children to look after her and Harlan didn’t have parents or grandparents to take care of. In its own unspoken way, they both filled little holes in each other’s lives without ever saying as much. 

He had no intention of canceling, it just meant he was unlikely to get much sleep that night either. Maybe he could schedule a nap sometime before the festival… if he was lucky. 

His fingers strummed against the cold metal of the Jeep, pursing his lips in frustrated thought. [color=737e62]"You better check in on that damn satellite phone."[/color] Harlan’s eyes narrowed before he wagged a finger at her. [color=737e62]"I’m serious, Charlie."[/color]

Something softened across Charlie's face. The teasing expression remained, but it settled into something warmer around the edges as she looked across the Jeep at him. Morning sunlight spilled across the diner parking lot and caught in the loose curls dancing around her face while cold autumn wind swept through the open cabin. The scent of coffee drifted from inside the diner every time the door opened, mingling with fallen leaves and the faint bite of approaching winter. Harlan's concern sat plainly between them, wrapped up in grumbling lectures and narrowed eyes, and Charlie had long since learned to recognize it for what it was.

[color=9FC9A8]"Tell Mrs. Larson I said hi."[/color] The words were gentle and sincere. Charlie shifted her hand atop the steering wheel and smiled despite herself, because Harlan was one of the best people she knew, even if he'd probably rather wrestle a bear than accept the compliment. He spent his Sundays driving an old woman to church, hauled groceries without complaint, fixed things that didn't belong to him, and somehow still found time to worry himself sick over everyone else. The thought made her chest feel strangely full for a moment before she shoved it aside in favor of something easier.

[color=9FC9A8]"I'll see you at the festival."[/color] Her grin returned immediately, bright and mischievous. [color=9FC9A8]"Do us both a favor and buy one of those little name-tag stickers. Write somebody else's name on it."[/color] She snorted and reached for the gearshift, already picturing the disaster waiting for him later that evening. [color=9FC9A8]"Otherwise Warren's gonna track you down and physically shove you into a vampire costume."[/color]

The image amused her enough that she laughed under her breath while throwing the Jeep into reverse. Gravel crunched beneath the tires. Wind rushed through the missing doors and tugged at her curls as she backed away from the diner. One hand lifted briefly from the wheel in a lazy farewell before she swung the Jeep toward the road, already thinking about trails, maps, and the miles of forest waiting for her beyond town… but first, she was going to stop at the store and stock Harlan’s kitchen with all of her, and his, favorite snacks.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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[color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] warren [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] warren, savannah[color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]collabs[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [@Mjolnir][/color]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center]