Xena

Xena sipped quietly from her drink, relishing the sweet and spicy burn of rum on her tongue. She was focused wholly on her poem, her fountain pen scratching lazily across the paper. Xena had always been more concerned with the actual words rather than how they looked. The bar was exceptionally crowded that night, and rather noisy, just the way Xena preferred it. She found it easier to write when surrounded by distractions, forcing her to focus wholeheartedly on the task at hand. She tended to procrastinate at home, creating distractions for herself instead of trying to ignore them.

“That’s her?” Fred asked his brother, leaning in close so that he could hear him over the din. Charlie nodded, his eyes trained on the beautiful girl sitting at the crowded bar, scribbling in her journal. He had been coming in every night for the past two weeks, and the Girl had been there every time. He’d hardly noticed her at first, only there to pick up some Muggle girl and have a meaningless night of fun. But when he came the next night, and the night after that, he grew more and more curious about the offbeat girl with her darkened lips and distinctive piercing.

After a week, Charlie knew he was in love.

“You know Mum hates piercings,” George piped, taking a swig of his beer.

“I know,” Charlie responded, his eyes never leaving the Girl.

“You don’t even know her name.”

“I know.”

“But she’s the one, right?” Charlie smiled.

“I know.” Fred and George exchanged a look, shrugged, and clapped him on his back.

“Alright, man,” Fred sighed. “If you’re really sure, go talk to her for Merlin’s sake.” Charlie laughed and stood, but the idea of approaching her practically made his knees go weak. His stomach began churning, and though he’d barely touched any liquor, he was extremely light headed. He somehow convinced his feet to begin moving toward her, and before he knew it, he was standing beside her, less than an arm’s length away.

Clearing his throat, Charlie occupied the seat beside the Girl, signaling for the bartender. “One scotch on the rocks please.” He glanced over at the Girl, who still hadn’t looked up from her etchings. “And whatever she’s having,” he said, trying to make it sound like a random afterthought. The bartender and Charlie both looked in her direction to see what she’d like.

Without looking up, she muttered, “I’m a big girl. I can order for myself, thanks.” Charlie felt his stomach swoop at the sound of her voice. It was low and rich, like dark maple syrup, but husky as though the maker had burned it slightly. She had to be from the States, judging by her accent. She wasn’t rude, and she wasn’t flippant. Just casually dismissive, and it only made Charlie want her more. He was silent, trying to decide what his next move should be. He’d planned on her accepting the drink, but he supposed he shouldn’t really expect anything from this girl except for her patronage at the bar.

“Something on your mind?” she said again, glancing over at his hands and startling him from his stupor. Charlie hadn’t noticed that he’d been shredding his napkin due to his nerves.

“Oh,” he laughed, dropping the remainder and pushing it away. He chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his cropped red hair. “Sorry. I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to the napkin. That tree died so you could wipe crud from your mouth, and you just wasted its life.” Charlie’s face turned a bright pink as he began stammering for a response.

“Right, I know—it’s just—”

“I’m kidding,” she said with a small smile, finally looking up. Charlie was floored by her beauty. This was his first time looking her full in the face, and it was like staring into the sun. Her eyes were a warm coffee brown, her pupils rimmed by a golden amber. Her lips were full and shapely, stained like berries, and Charlie desperately wanted a taste. There was a cute beauty mark in the corner of her nose, very carefully placed to let people know that the universe took extra time when creating her. Her dreads fell in waves down her shoulder, reminding him of a tree’s roots intricately weaving themselves across the forest floor.

“So, does my stalker have a name?” she said, closing her book and turning to face him. Charlie’s eyebrows flew up, resting atop his head.

“W-what?”

“I’d like to know if the handsome boy who’s been watching me for two weeks now has a name.”

Charlie was stunned, his face officially red at having been caught admiring her. “Er...yeah. Charlie.” She nodded approvingly.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Charlie. I’m Xena,” she said, reaching out a hand for him to shake.

“Xena?” he said, taking her hand in his, his body thrilled at the contact.

She nodded.

“That’s a lovely name.”

Xena pulled her hand away, examining the man’s face. He seemed genuine, not creepy or desperate at all, as she feared he would be. Creepy, desperate men tended to be the type to frequent a bar just to watch a strange girl.

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, no!” he said, shaking his head fervently, throwing up his hands. She nodded, taking another sip of her drink. Charlie sighed, rubbing his hand across his bearded jaw. “I just...something about you intrigues me.”

“But not enough to actually open your mouth and talk to a girl.”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, two weeks later.”

“Okay,” Charlie laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. Xena had always been a sucker for a man with pretty blue eyes.

“I couldn't help it," Charlie started. "I like you. You’re different. You’re exotic—”

Xena scoffed and rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink. Charlie’s face fell. “What?”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“What? Exotic?”

“That’s what white boys call pretty brown girls when they don’t know what to do with the fact that they find a brown girl pretty. Exotic. Don’t mystify me, or seduce yourself with my otherness. The beat of my lashes against each other ain’t some dark desert boat. It’s just a blink. Get over it.”*

Charlie nodded, absorbing her words.

“Fine then. You’re beautiful.” Xena didn’t blink, or show any sign of surprise. “I think you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. You’re smooth, and wise, and cool, and kind—”

“Where are you getting all this from?” she asked, her lip quirking a bit. It seemed he truly meant all of it. He wasn't just trying to flatter her and get into her pants. He genuinely saw all of these traits in her, and Xena was sincerely curious about where he had discovered them.

“It’s in your eyes,” Charlie muttered, leaning in closer. “You know that corny old saying, ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul’?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I get it now.” Charlie was getting a lot of things, just being with Xena. Why the sun returned to the sky every morning; why phoenixes were birthed from destruction; why the sea always came back to kiss the shore, no matter how many times it was sent away.

“Wanna get out of here?” Xena asked, placing her hand over Charlie’s.

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“Would you rather have a rewind button in your life, or a pause button?” Xena asked, swinging her and Charlie’s hands back and forth.

The two had been wandering aimlessly for hours, merely talking. Not about trivial questions like what they did or families or pasts. But they talked about the future and bad habits and pipe dreams. Xena couldn’t remember the last time she’d been happier.

“Probably a rewind button,” Charlie responded. “I fuck up a lot, I’d probably need that one the most.”

“But with a pause button, you could pause moments and enjoy them if you wanted.”

“Eh.”

“Haven’t you ever had those moments? Where it’s so great, you wish you could just stop time and stay in it forever, saturated with your own bliss?”

“Sure,” Charlie said. “Right now comes to mind.” Xena chuckled.

“But if I had a rewind button, I’d just play through the whole night, and then rewind and do it again, and then rewind and do it again…”

“Yeah, so then fuck a pause button.”

“Yeah, fuck a pause button.” The two laughed, their voices intertwining and floating away above skyscrapers and treetops and escaping into the night. Charlie was surprised when Xena suddenly took a right up to the door of an apartment building. He’d been totally unaware that he was walking her home.

“Oh, is this goodnight, then?” he said, standing at her doorstep with her. Xena shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“We happened to be in my neighborhood, it’s 2 am...I figured it was about that time.” Charlie nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his hands massaging light circles at the base of her spine.

“Yeah, thanks for not killing me.”

“Mm, no promises for next time.”

“Oh, so there will be a next time?” Xena asked, leaning her back against the door and pulling Charlie with her.

“You forget, I know how to find you,” he teased, pressing his forehead against hers. Xena laughed, and the sound made his knees weak.

“So tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” Charlie whispered, his face moving in closer to Xena’s.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” Xena whispered, their noses touching. Charlie could feel her lips grazing his, her warm, rum scented breath tickling his face. He was just close enough to kiss her when Xena smiled and turned her head at the last second, chuckling to herself. Escaping his embrace, she turned around and unlocked her door, quickly slipping inside and closing it.

Charlie smiled, leaning his palm against the door and grinning at his feet. He knew he would be dreaming about her smile.