The Other Woman |Charlie Barber x Reader|

~Halloween~

The moment the shrill doorbell rings, Charlie is back on his feet, practically flying out of his comfy chair. He pauses for a moment, checking his reflection in the dark screen of his phone to ensure his costume looked presentable. It hits the table with a soft clatter as he takes a big step to open the front door. The handle jams for a moment, prompting him to ram his shoulder against the frame to pop it open.

When the door finally swings open, it reveals a very amused and done-up you. Charlie can't help his eyes roaming from beneath the ridiculous glasses. He traces out the look of your legs in the black jazz heels and sheer tights. Your costume glitters under the artificial lighting, twinkling with its glittery shine and black beads that clack together. The makeup adorning your features echoes that of the 1920's, paying close attention to the sharpness of your brows and bright red lips.

"I feel under-dressed now," you joke, eying his brown suit and the bandages that shield his skin from you.

"The Invisible Man-"

"By H.G. Wells," you finish for him.

Charlie puts his hands on his hips. "You've read it?"

You breeze past him, giving his coat a tug. Charlie follows you like a puppy getting promised a treat; practically drooling in his bandages. He shuts the door quickly, shivering when he feels the coolness of night seeping into his clothes. He watches you fiddle with the pearls around your neck and gaze around his home, clearly taking notice of the lack of furniture and decoration.

"I have to get more," his muffled voice is quick to defend himself. "I'll do it... eventually."

"Can I get out of these heels?" You gesture to the shoes your feet are trapped in.

Charlie gestures toward the floor. "Anywhere you'd like." He is pleased to see you slip out of them and tuck them against the wall so that no one could trip over them. "How was your cousin's party?"

You sigh, tugging at the costume. "Itchy. But it was good, I guess, the kids were all behaving. I was going to go as 'the bride of Chucky' but the other parents thought it was too mature for their kids. So I changed it to a zombie flapper. One of them said something about it being the 'fucked up version of Great Gatsby,' so I went as a normal one."

"I'm sure I would have fit right in," Charlie jokes weakly.

Despite it, you laugh a little. He feels his heart race a little faster as you approach him, inspecting the costume. "As much as I appreciate your effort, I'd like to see your real face. Unless, you'd like to go drinking in that getup."

"What, you don't like this?" He gasps, mocking offense. "Does it scare you, Sweetheart?"

"No," you giggle. "You look like a glorified mummy."

Charlie gasps again. He pauses for a moment, making you think you had actually insulted his costume. That is, until he lunges for you very suddenly. You shriek in delight as he tries to grab you, only for you to weasel out of his grasp. You shoot into the narrow hallway, unsure of where you were going, as you laugh and cry out. Charlie manages to scoop you up, laughing heartily as he lugs you up over his shoulder.

"Charlie, no!" You laugh, eyes tearing up. "P-Put me down!"

With a grunt, you are tossed upon the bed, bouncing as you hit the mattress. Charlie tackles you, grabbing onto your wrists tightly and pinning them over your head. Your chest heaves with laughter, legs unable to curl to your chest as he puts his weight on you. His chuckles are like warm honey. They begin to die out as you fade from giggles to silence, eyes searching his hidden face.