it's a terrible love

Tshering's eyes scanned the horizon, her eyes rapidly scanning the atmospheric sun. The hues magnificently spread out across the sky, despite all of the pollution it had received from thoes filthy humans, wasting their lives away.

And they said that the future was better than the past.

The clock struck one thirty, and her digital clock yelled to the limit of its vocal chords. She groaned, and tried not to let a tear roll down her cheek.

She was officially fifteen, and no one had come.

(ooc: perfect song for these two.)

Charles ran up the stairs, his heart pounding. It was July 18th, 1:30pm. Last time he had checked, it was Tshering's birthday down to the minute, and he was not on his front door. Close enough, but not there.

Worst of all, this was her fifteenth birthday - in Spain, she would be having a huge quincenera now. His was coming soon, and he would like Tshering to be there to blow his candles for him, like she did for his fourteenth.

Thankfully, he got to her door when the alarm clock was still beeping. He knocked, practically pounding the doorknob.

Tshering tried her best to fight the tears that was practically piercing her eyes, fighting to get out. However, she couldn't. There was someone at her doorstep, wanting to see her, she'd hope; she couldn't be too optimistic.

Either way, someone had come on what could be one of the most important days of her life. Hopefully, it was someone she treasured. And last time she checked there weren't too many of those people.

Standing up slowly from her couch, the brunette Ravenclaw trudged towards the door, and giggled and the noise made the immense abyss seem smaller, somewhat. She slowly turned the handle, and her mouth turned from a scowl to a smirk at who was standing in front of her.

"Well well well," she mused, "what on earth would you be doing on a fine day like this, Prentiss?"

Charles blinked at the face Tshering had on her face once she saw him. It was a mixture of sadness and happiness, he knew. She had never been able to lie to him, no matter how much she tried.

The way she greeted him made him feel normal, though. Just like last year, when they weren't in this complicated situation that could have no solution.

"Yes, I'm here on this fine day," Charles replied, kissing Tshering on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Annabeth."

At Charles's remark on her name, Tshering would have usually lashed out at him and slapped him in the face, giving him an endless lecture of reasons of why not to call her that, but she decided not to. Perhaps it being her birthday has made her soft, somewhat.

Not to mention that he kissed her on the cheek, and no matter how cliched her thoughts were they made him seem charming. Except, of course, he was charming as well as being a great con artist. But wasn't that the point of being a con artist? To be charming to other people and then steal the dough?

A blush seeped across Tshering's round cheeks before she cleared the way for Charles to enter. "Gentlemen first," she grinned.

Charles smiled when Tshering opened the door for him so he could enter. He entered, and what he saw was a surprise. The loft was rather big, with a small kitchen and a large living room. There was also space for what he could tell was an expensive upright piano. Her most prized possession, he knew.

He imagined Tshering playing on it for nights on end without much sleep. She looked more graceful and herself in his mind than she did now. She looked sad, and he wanted to just cup her face in his hands and just kiss it to make her feel better. Had she always been this sad?

He sat down abruptly on the couch. "So, where everyone else?" he asked. "I can't be the only person you invited to your party, right?"

Tshering knew that Charles probably thought of her loft as inferior, but really she felt proud of it. She had it all to herself for nearly a year now and nothing major that was within her fingertips had occurred. Somehow, Bertram was nice enough to not make her pay any rent, which she heaved as a huge sigh of relief; there was a huge need of booze in the house.

However, she didn't drink it so much anymore. It wasn't to say that she didn't drink it at all - who the hell can't resist a glass of vintage wine? - but she had cut down. Nowadays it was tobacco, tobacco, and a lungful of nicotine. Not like she gave a fuck.

The brunette ran over to the kitchen and opened up two soda cans - that seemed rather childish, in her opinion - for her and Charles to drink. "Well, they're all dressed in invisible, silly," she deadpanned, "honestly - do you think a whore like me would have a party?"

Charles looked at Tshering in an odd way. He knew that she was always bitter, but he did not expect her to be so bitter on a day so sweet as her birthday. He only put an arm around her, mostly to comfort her.

"You're not a whore, Anna," he said calmly, knowing she would now kill him. "The only person you've ever kissed in the past year, I'm proud to say, is me." He took a sip of his cola and stared at the one that belonged to Tshering, which had not been touched. "Drink your soda, little dinosaur." His fingers reached up to her hair and gently ruffled it.

Even though he ruffled her hair, he wondered how it stayed so neat. Maybe she used hair gel or some potion or something. He did not want to know because if he knew he might tell Millie and she might become more of a spoiled brat than she should.

"How would you know that?" Tshering scoffed, "I'm not with you twenty-four seven, I'm proud to say." She thought of the promiscuous parties she went to with Haze, and while Haze was snogging every boy she could see Tshering was mostly smoking, of course, or having a little - or a lot of - booze.

Perhaps she could have kissed - or maybe even went further with - someone while she was wasted, but that was unlikely. Tshering preferred to think of herself as one who could control her actions. Thankfully, and much to no one's chagrin, she remembered no one.

"I'm only joking, Charles," she laughed, and true to his words, she drank a little bit of soda, but only to make him happy, "I would never kiss anyone that's not you. But I can't help it if I don't; we're not even together, right?"

"I know you like the palm of my hand, Anna," Charles proclaimed. "You would never kiss anyone but me, because I am the best person you have ever kissed." His face went blank when Tshering talked about Haze. He knew what those parties were like: too dangerous for him.

His eyes continued to stay dark just in case she told him a big secret. She didn't. Instead, she said she was joking. He heaved a huge sigh of relief, but he then mentally gasped at what she said.

We're not even together, right?

His face remained a mask of joy. "Of course, not!" he grinned. "But it's part of us, baby."

"You're the second person I've kissed," Tshering laughed, though it was an empty sound, "though your lip action is pleasing." She then watched Charles's face, and she wanted to laugh genuinely at how it changed from happy to absolute worriment instantly.

She wanted to stop joking right then, and talk to him about things that mattered. Or at least, what mattered to her. And at that reply of them being together... she knew. She knew he wasn't joking about what he had said to her in the Great Hall. He cared. Perhaps even more than cared.

"O-Okay..." Tshering replied, taking a deep breath, "I know this is proably unrelated to what we're talking about..." She exhaled, "But I can't help asking..." She inhaled once more. "Are you..." She paused. "A-Are you... um, s-scared... of..." She closed her eyes as she said it, "Commitment?"

(OOC: These two are perfection.)

---

"Of course I have pleasing lip action," Charles smirked. He continued to ruffle Tshering's hair before his hand rested on her shoulder. His other hand took the cola can and sipped it before looking back at her. He loved how quickly she reacted to what he said.

The way she spoke after the silence told Charles that she knew about what he felt of her. That he was not lying in their conversation. He wanted to sigh in relief. But he can only do that once the tense part of this conversation was over.

Damn it. She had asked him a Big Question.

"Commitment?" he replied. "I'm not scared of it... if it's with the right person." He brushed her shoulder. "Why? Are you scared?"

"Of course?" scoffed Tshering, flipping her hair to one side in a slightly annoyed response, "oh please, Charles. Your confidence is killing me. One day, it will kill me, you being confident." She couldn't help but grin at him, though; the thought of such an action made her titter. Had she the courage she would have let herself laugh.

The Ravenclaw merely shrugged her shoulders when Charles replied, but her head was egging her on to cry in relief at what came out of his moving lips. At least he wasn't her father, who would irk if he had to marry another woman but her mother. Speaking of which, how were they? And little Timothy Tshering?

"I'm not scared if it was with the right person either," agreed the brunette, her blue eyes staring in an interested manner at the floor. Her tone was nonchalant - though it was clear it was forced. "H-Have... have you found the right person yet?"

(ooc: yesh. they are as perfect as alexander rybak.)

(OOC: Shut up, Rora. My mind is never gonna change.)

---

Charles laughed as soon as Tshering had said confidence. "Didn't you get the pun in that, Anna?" he asked. "I'm a mini con man. Confidence man. Get it?" His laughter slowed down to a giggle, which made him look like a girl. He didn't mind, though. He knew Tshering won't be so bothered by that, perhaps the opposite.

The Hitrost stared at the girl in front of him as if she had killed his mother. The question made its way inside his head. One part of him knew he met her, the right person. And that right person was sitting right in front of him. The other part of him did not think so, but he didn't care about that part.

His heart started to beat faster. He could admit it now. But not directly.

"I have," he responded hesitantly.

"Holy shit," Tshering gasped, the joke dawning on her, and she began to laugh along with Charles, her laugh resonating around the loft. Unexpectedly, her throat let out a loud burp, and because of that she burst out laughing even louder than she did last time, removing herself from Charles's grasp so her head rested on his lap. "You're right, Charles. You're oh-so-fucking right."

Again, the Bhutanese's curiosity built up inside her as she wondered upon his statement. Who was this right person? Was it someone in Durmstrang? Was it someone she knew?

Or even worse... was it her?

She shook her head defiantly, looking up at Charles. "Now..." she announced, sitting up on her seat, "this is my birthday" - she took a sip of her cola - "and I just realized that I don't have any presents!" She smirked, "Where are my presents?"

(ooc: i will never, ever let this go.)

Charles laughed at how Tshering burped. He'd never heard anyone that wasn't in the Prentiss family do it, except for maybe Kieran. It was funny, the way she did it.

"Oh riiiiiiight," Charles nodded, opening a small parcel in front of her. There was a small bracelet that his mother had hand-crafted for Millicent when she was young, and presented it to Tshering. He smiled as he looked at it, then at her. It matched her hair. That was perfect. "Here!" he screamed, passing the bracelet to her. "Happy?"

He then smirked, "But it's not done yet."

From another pocket, Charles looked at the box before opening it. Here it goes. What he had planned for a long while.

"You know that I've known you for a year, and... I care for you too much to let you go," he announced. "I want us to be friends, or more than friends, for as long as we can." He passed the box to her, his face showing a kind smile. "Do you promise to be on my side, no matter what?" He took her hand.

Tshering tapped her fingers in an impatient manner when Charles opened the present, but when he did, her lips let out a gasp. The bracelet was beautiful in every way, the diamonds clear and big, and before Charles passed her the bracelet she couldn't believe that it actually belonged to her. Or it did now.

"T-Thank you," she blushed, staring at it.

Her head immediately swivelled upwards when Charles mentioned he wasn't done. Her eyes widened... curiously waiting for whatever was to come...

Holy shit. A box. A box small enough to contain a...

The Ravenclaw stared at Charles, trying to make sure that he wasn't just playing her. The look in his eyes betrayed nothing... so could she assume he meant the best? And this was a real thing? This box, this promise, this vow?

The brunette threw caution to the wind and swallowed loudly, and replied, "Yes."

She burst into tears, clutching Charles close to her. "Yes, for the rest of my life, just yes! Now what's in the damn box?"

Charles grinned when Tshering accepted the promise, and the bracelet. It was only a while before he realized she wasn't wearing the bracelet. To fix that, he slid the bracelet through her wrist, and he looked up at her. It looked perfect on her, like it was meant for her.

Maybe his mother had known about this.

He smiled when Tshering held him close to her, and he kissed her forehead. "Well, I'll open it if you can stop choking me!" he laughed. He then shook his head. "No. You open it. I don't mind."

Inside, he was spinning. She still loved him, and he felt the same way.

Tshering grinned when Charles slid the bracelet on her, and her eyes glimmered as the diamonds sparkled. She grinned at Charles, pressing a tender kiss on his cheek. "W-Where did you get this?" she whispered, on the verge of tears once again. She shook her wrist, and laughed at the tingling sensation she felt.

The Ravenclaw's eyes widened as she took the box and placed it in her hand, her hands trembling. She swallowed, looking at the box. Two fingers reached for it, but retracted.

She took a deep breath, and let the fingers open the box. Inside the box was a ring, encrusted with a large, clear diamond.

The brunette burst into tears once more.

Charles didn't know what Tshering was doing when she was shaking her hand, so he held it close towards him just in case she was going to get a seizure or something.

"My... my mother made it," he began. "It was Millicent's, but since that bitch didn't want it anymore, you get to have it. Don't be so pissed, because it looks way better on you. Really."

When Tshering began to cry again, the Hitrost tried to let her calm down by holding her at arm's length and inserting the ring on what was supposed to be the wedding finger. Tears began to roll out of his eyes too.

"This is a family heirloom from my Mother's side and it's for someone you love," Charles explained. "And you deserve it."

Tshering felt a little pissed when she heard that her bracelet was second hand, but its beauty blinded her of her rage. "T-Thanks, I suppose," she whispered, cradling her hand in her arm.

The ring slid flawless onto her wedding finger, and she gasped. It felt as if she was actually getting married, though she knew that it was far from the actual event. Whatever. She can still dream, because she has all the time she needed to dream, for now.

It was only after the ring was fully placed on her finger that Tshering began to fully pay attention to what Charles was saying. Family heirloom, she heard. A silent gasp was released from her lips as her tears turned into sniffles.

"W-Wow..." she mouthed, and flopped down onto Charles's lap again, adjusting her body until she felt comfortable. "This is the best birthday ever, Charles. Thank you so much."

Smiling, Charles pulled out a matching ring out of his pocket on his shirt (Since when did he get so many pockets?) and put it on his wedding finger too. "There," he grinned as he looked down at Tshering. "We match now. That's good, right?"

He nodded. "You deserve one, Anna," he replied. His hands reached forward to cup her head/ He was elated now, but he knew it couldn't last if their relationship was public.

Not if Liddy found out.

Get out of my head, Liddy, Charles prayed. Just for one day. Without hesitation he leaned forward to kiss his once lover, now girlfriend on the lips.