(Untitled)

[ladyfirestarter]

[Out of Milliways: And if the fires burn out, there's only fire to blame]

The front door opens onto a hallway in Taos, New Mexico.

Charlie McGee steps in with the slow careful movements of extreme exhaustion, leaning on a cane, and holds the door for Charles Wallace Murry.

"Here we are," she says to him, with a tired but beautiful smile.

Comments

[lethe_forgets]

It's concern first. It usually is, really. Lethe is a thing that worries. Charlie's movement, after all, is one belies some sort of pain and she is (fire under her skin) she is Prometheus' person. Worry certainly extends in that direction.

And then there is further motion (ringing) her eyes widen, lips twitch upward unconsciously.

It's been - it has been a while.

There's barely a stop - quick and stuttered, a nearly aborted flutter of motion before a straight-shouldered (still concerned, that does not fade so easily) approach toward the pair near the doorway.

"Hello," she manages after a moment, fingers curled and then unfurled again - a bit uncertain, but offering. "Do you need any help?"

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie looks in the direction of the voice, blinking, and smiles automatically. "Thank you," she says, "I think I'm all right for the moment."

A beat.

"...We've met." Uncertainly. "Haven't we?"

[lethe_forgets]

She laughs - a bright thing, response not at all something she doesn't expect - and nods, ignoring the messy tumble of curls for a quickly dipped curtsy.

"Lethe," she supplies and the smile twitches again, wry this time. "Prometheus is my - he is family. Pleased to remake your acquaintance, Miss Charlie."

Her head tilts.

"You are certain that there is nothing I can do?"

[thisfatefulhour]

It's about now that Charles -- who disappeared to go find drinks -- returns.

"--Lethe!"

His smile and his voice are both pure delight.

[lethe_forgets]

Lethe's head turns, then dips briefly - chin to chest - and her fingers scrub themselves through her hair, pulling it away from her face before letting the curls twang messily back into place.

Her own smile is still laugh-bright, wide and a bit silly.

"Hi! How are - do you need -" another laugh, sheepish this time. "Hello."

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie glances back and forth between Lethe and Charles Wallace, and starts to smile.

"...You two know each other, I take it."

[lethe_forgets]

Her cheeks brighten rather automatically and she presses a set of fingers to her forehead, glancing back over to Charlie with her bottom lip between her teeth, catching one side of an impish, self-amused grin.

Lethe is well aware of her social failings. She'd have to be, really - they're pretty obvious.

The flush settles itself comfortably along her collarbones and the smile widens, "I cannot imagine where you got that idea."

[thisfatefulhour]

Charles ducks his head, which does not hide his grin very well, and passes Charlie the mug of cocoa he originally left to fetch.

"We do, yes."

[lethe_forgets]

Lethe goes all bright-edged, skin almost rippling with the attention, before she tugs herself back together and knots her fingers in her skirt-hems.

She shrugs up a shoulder, humming out an agreement.

[thisfatefulhour]

He shoots her a sideways grin.

"It's good to see you."

Judging by his smile, that's an understatement.

[lethe_forgets]

"You too," she returns - and if she leans a bit closer, well she does not imagine that anyone is going to call her on it.

Though she would not deny it either.

"I hope that you have been well," she smiles back at him, crinkles her nose. "I might have worried."

[ladyfirestarter]

...Okay, these two are nothing short of adorable.

Charlie's just gonna watch a bit longer.

[lethe_forgets]

"Not to -" the hem of her skirt may or may not be unraveling slightly under the attention. "Not to imply that you would have any reason not to be well at home, of course."

There's something of a pause - during which she remembers that there are others present and that rambling is not exactly productive - and then there's a bashful sort of shrug, shoulders up about her ears before she blinks, fingers fluttering.

"Oh, and I am forgetting my manners! You should take a seat."

[thisfatefulhour]

"No, no, I've been well."

He blinks, and looks at Charlie, sheepish.

"--So am I. You should sit." To Lethe, wry: "Well, but busy."

[lethe_forgets]

"I can see," she shoots back, grinning again, and takes a step backward and in the general direction of somewhere for Charlie to sit.

Her hand - which apparently has a mind of its own and can wait - reaches forward again briefly, before she tugs it back to herself and pulls out a chair.

"I hope that it was successful?" she asks, question not at all invasive, just polite. "Whatever it was that was keeping the both of you busy."

[thisfatefulhour]

"Pretty successful," he says with a grin (and a discreet glance at Charlie, to make sure she's all right with him saying so). "How have you been? Where have you been? We must have been missing each other when we came into the bar."