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☆═━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍━═☆
Emotions. Throughout Charlotte's life, these were the only things that controlled her. She cared deeply for everyone around her, how they were feeling, if they were in pain, she would sympathize with them. She would feel guilty— if she was the cause of their pain.
Being that way, put her in situations where people claimed her as too good to be true, annoyingly perfect, or even naive.
Charlotte, just like any other person, had thoughts of her own that she couldn't shout out— no matter how much she wanted to do that. Turning off her humanity brought out a girl that was sick of everyone's opinions about her. A girl that wanted to let go and be free, be happy on her own terms.
She twirled around after stepping out of the fitting room in a short mauve dress, "So...what do you guys think?"
Kol raised his eyebrows, downing his glass of champagne, "It looks gorgeous on you."
Charlotte smiled in advance before Rebekah called out from the fitting room, "There has to be more to this dress!"
Klaus rolled his eyes, stating, "There's not."
She got out of the fitting room, wearing a short, black dress, "So women in the 21st-century dress like prostitutes, then."
Charlotte folded her arms together, "Well...I wouldn't use the word prostitutes. They are just more confident about their bodies."
"You know, I got dirty looks for wearing trousers?" The blonde raised an eyebrow, turning to the Bernard vampire.
Klaus sipped on his champagne, retorting, "You wore trousers so women today could wear nothing."
"Or maybe because it's significant," Paulina shrugged her shoulders at that, exchanging a look with Rebekah, "That women wear the pants and men...well, they are left to fend for themselves."
"And your proof to that mad theory is?"
She chuckled, walking over to take the champagne bottle from his hand, "Well, I wore the pants in all of my relationships, and even now, I still do."
