After unloading her black and white polka-dotted laundry bag, Charli made herself as comfortable as possible in the stiff & stained, overused chair that line one of the cinder-blocked basement walls. She bent her knees tightly against the chipped silver armrest to get as snug in the seat as a cat. She reached into her handmade tote, and pulled out a rather large book. Cuddled in her plush robe, her fire-blazing hair in a messy bun, she opened to any page and began to read. The only noise is the light hum of the washer and the squeak of her chair when she adjusts herself. Now, this is tranquility.
It was a Friday night, and by Friday night, Charli meant the wee hours of Saturday morning. To others, it may seem strange that Charli chose to wash her clothes, wait for them to dry, fold all of last week’s outfits (and maybe even from the week prior), then haul ten pounds of fabric back up to her dorm at one in the morning; but, it does have its benefits.
“Wow, I figured I’d be alone down here,” a husky voice murmured.
“Huh?” Charli grudgingly glanced over the top of her book to spot the profile of a guy in Drexel sweats and a t-shirt. He was in the midst of unloading his laundry bag into a washer near hers. His auburn hair was disheveled.
The reason behind Charli’s wise decision to do her laundry on Friday nights is because she is less likely to fight over the only dryer on campus that actually does its job, especially since most students are over at UPenn’s fraternity and sorority parties. The absence of students and the lack of interaction allowed her adequate time to read.
“Didn’t expect to see anyone else here,” he poured some detergent into the machine. “You seem lost.”
“Me? No. I’m where I’m supposed to be.” Charli said in a bothered tone. One finger held the page she was reading, while her opposite hand held the book’s spine. She noticed his eyes this time; they were the color of a swamp.
He let out a soft chuckle, and a smiled appeared. It wasn’t a full blown, ear-to-ear smile. Rather, it was one of those smiles where only one side of his mouth slightly raises and no teeth are shown; a gentle smile, to say the least. “I meant lost in the book.”
Charli raised her eyebrows and nodded once to show she understood his comment, and bowed her head into her book. He jumped on top of a washer adjacent to her seat, and leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the title.
“One Hundred Years of Solitude. Reading for class, I assume.”
Charli stopped reading the same sentence she has read twice now, and looked at him a bit disgruntled. “No. It’s for pleasure.”
“A book like that for pleasure? Wow, good for you. I remember having to read that during my freshman year. I couldn’t even get through the first chapter. It was terrible.” He rambled, all while she attempted to ignore him. She reread the same sentence for a third time. “What’s your name?” He asked.
Charli closed her book, making the pages clash together. She folded her arms against her chest, and smiled angrily at him.
“Charli. Nice name. Is it short for something? Charmaine? Charles? Charmander?”
“Charlotte. It’s short for Charlotte.”
“Ah, right.” He smiled that one-sided smile.
Charli started at him. A few moments of awkward silence passed when the obnoxious buzz of the washer crashed the silence to the gray-painted stone floor. She stood, threw her book to the olive green, stained seat and altered her robe. She isn’t alone anymore; she can’t be as comfortable as she wants. She grabbed all her laundry in large portions, throwing it into a rolling basket. She attempted to hide all her delicates to the best of her ability. In one swift motion, she pushed the basket as hard as she could, sending it to the other side and smashing against the metal dryers.
He watched as she went over to the only dryer on campus that properly did its job.
“I was going to use that one.”
I assume this is his way of making conversation… “Well, then. I guess you’ll have to wait.” She continued to place her sopping clothes into the dryer.
“Well, that isn’t fair, now is it? I always do my laundry on Friday nights; it’s easier. No one is here. Except… Now.” She paused and turned her head in the direction of his voice. “If that’s the case, how is it I’ve never seen you?” Again with that smile.
“Maybe, you have. You just weren’t looking, Charlotte.”
She snickered at his comment. Charli was certainly not impressed by his mediocre beguilement. “Shouldn’t you be out like everyone else?”
Charli set the dryer for 90 minutes, ensuring that all her clothes will be unquestionably dry (and quite warm). She walked back to her uncomfortable seat against the cold wall.
“Ah, so that’s another hour and a half to talk, get to know each other a bit. Awesome.”
Sure, we can do that. Charli smirked to herself. “That hour and a half was going to be used to read the rest of my book. But I guess plans change.” She stated snarkly.
“Fate happens, Miss Charlotte.” He winked.
You’re going to make me throw up.
“You never told me your name. All this talk, and you don’t have the decency to let me know who I’m speaking to, how to address you.”
“Richie. Is that short for Richard?”
“Yeah, it is. Great first guess.”
“I wonder why no one decided to call you Dick. I mean, after all, it’s short for Richard.”
She had been rather stand-offish for the last fifteen minutes, and since Richie had no intention of leaving anytime soon, Charlie might as well have given in. Finally, someone to talk to. And possibly… take back to my dorm. She changed her posture, and leaned both forearms on the rusty armrests of the beat up chair.
After another bout of awkward silence, Charli hesitantly said, “I’m – I’m an English major. You?”
Richie’s head snapped back to reality. Charlotte knew almost immediately what kind of thoughts must have been running through his head. To anyone on the outside, she was the perfect catch. He wasn’t exactly the most difficult person to read.
“Liberal arts,” he replied a little too quickly.
“What made you choose that?”
“With liberal arts, I can do anything, be anything. I get taught the skills and filled with knowledge from all majors. Nothing can beat it. Everyone’ll wanna hire me.”
Why, aren’t you a little pretentious fucker? Keep it up. “Got a point there.”
“And I assume you want to be a teacher; fill little children or adolescent crazies with how to properly construct a sentence, the differences between your, you’re, they’re, there and their.”
“Actually, no. I don’t.” Charli declared. “I want to write.”
“Anything my little heart desires.” She answered, sticking her nose in the air and smiling, allowing her dimples to surface.
“And what does your little heart desire? There has to be something.” Richie pressed onward.
“Hmm… I don’t really know. I guess I desire —” The same obnoxious buzz from the washer disrupted Charli mid-sentence. She smiled, exhaling the rest of her sentence. “Your clothes are done.”
“But it seems yours are not.” Richie jumped off the washer once more to grab a rolling basket. He began to throw all his clothes into the basket. “Looks like another…” He looked at the timer on Charli’s dryer. “…13 minutes. I could wait.”
Charli stood up. “Mine are probably dry. I’ll let you use this dryer tonight, but it’ll be your last time.” She smirked as she passed him while she fixed a few fiery strands of her that were making their way out of her messy bun. He smiled his one-sided smile, his eyes following her, glued to what may be underneath that plush robe.
“You don’t have to do that, y’know?” Richie walked over to Charli’s side as she emptied the dryer.
“It’s my pleasure,” she paused. “Dick.”
He chuckled at her smart ass remark. Charli began to fold her clothes, while Richie moved large quantities of his clothes from the basket to the dryer.
I got him right where I want him. “How’s this: you put your clothes in the dryer, set it for 90 minutes, and why don’t you help me bring my laundry back up to my dorm. Sound good?” She didn’t look up from her laundry; she concentrated on folding her clothes in a meticulous manner, but she smiled slyly to herself.
Richie glanced at her quickly, practically doing a double-take at her sudden change of heart. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.”
“Perfect.” Finishing the last of what needed to be folded, she put the clothes in her laundry bag neatly and carefully, completely ignoring the way Richie’s eyes seemed to be burning two big holes in the back of her neck. She could practically smell his excitement, and the thought of getting him up to her room in just a few seconds was enough to send her heart racing. With a small nod of her head, she watched as he took the laundry from her and they walked side-by-side, up the stairs to get to her dorm. It was on the top floor, in the very corner, with a door that was fairly plain.
Nothing at all out of the ordinary.
“So, uh, is your roommate going to mind me just coming in?” He asked as Charli took out her key and opened the door, stepping aside to let him in first. There was no answer, and when he walked in the first thing he noticed was the empty bed on the left side of the room. The walls there were bare, and if Charli had a roommate, well, it wasn’t at all obvious.
“Well aren’t you lucky – how’d you manage that one? Did you just flash them that pretty smile of yours?”
I really do wish you’d shut up. Though her thoughts never betrayed the smile on her face as she shut the door behind her and locked it, not bothering to turn on the light. She motioned for him to put the laundry down on the floor, and when he did, she stepped closer until the back of his knees hit her mattress, sending him to the bed with her straddling his waist. “She just up and disappeared one day last semester. Haven’t heard from her since.” Rather than flashing that pretty smile of hers, Charli gave him a sardonic grin. She could tell by his face that he thoroughly enjoyed where this is going.
She began to kiss him passionately, as she gently rolled her hips against his waist. He kissed back with as much enthusiasm as a teenaged boy, as he moved his hands from his sides to her sides: her curves, her thighs. Charli pushed Richie down onto the bed, looking down at him with eyes that shimmered. He ran them up her back, feeling the clip of her bra. Charli felt the stiffness between his legs and smiled against his lips their kiss went on. His hands traveled back down, fingers firmly gripping onto her hips. He slowly tried to slip his hands into the back of her pants, making Charli playfully bite his lower lip.
“Nu-uh-uh.” She giggled, as she removed his hands from the elastic waistband of her lounge pants. “Not yet. I wanna play with you first.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” He mumbled with her teeth still gently clamped his lower lip. He felt her tongue move across his lip. She got a hold of his hands, and slid her palms down to his wrist, and clasped her fingers around it. Charli roughly threw his hands above his head; her breasts now closer to Richie’s face. It was apparent that Richie didn’t have much experience being so submissive, and her animalistic nature was taking him more than just a little off-guard, but not one complain left his lips as she moved to plant feverish kisses along his jaw. She kissed down to his neck where she let her tongue leave a long, wet trail of saliva over his pulse, her breathing growing as heavy as his. Charlotte began salivating, practically foaming at the mouth, as her teeth grazed his skin, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. The action made him thrust his hips upward, and she chuckled, speaking softly into the crook of his neck.
“It’s always nice to see my food so… Eager.”
Before she could let the words register in his mind, Charlotte drew back her lips to reveal her teeth, biting right into the flesh and tearing through his carotid, using one hand to cover his mouth. A deep moan rumbled within her chest and she pulled back, blood covering her mouth and dripping down her neck. This is what pleasure feels like… Her hands let him go and she tilted her head back in euphoric bliss, touching her breasts all the while using her inhuman strength to keep Richie underneath her. It wasn’t his blood she was after – it was his flesh in its entirety.
“Delicious! Oh, Richard!” The way she groaned out his name in a mixture of arousal and obscene pleasure earned another scream, and her head snapped back to give him a glare, teeth aiming right for his throat.
