❝BABY, I'M DYING TO FIND A LOOKALIKE!❞
in which Charlie Atkinson is having an identity crisis, and maybe, just maybe, the scarred boy with the kind smile can help him.
remus lupin x male oc
@ghostboyss
4-19-19
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"I'd rather die than tell you I'm in love with you."
★★★
Now, you must understand, Charlie Atkinson was never the kind of guy to get drunk. Hell, he hated the feeling of not being in total control of his body (i.e. his crisis), and alcohol didn't help much with that. But, sometimes, you have to weigh the benefits versus the disadvantages.
A little loss of control versus relief from the shit he's been going through recently? No debate there.
Charlie was walking through the Gryffindor Common Room, making sure Chip found her way to some of her other friends safely, before refilling his cup with--something? He wasn't sure what he was drinking, but he was sure it was working. He felt great! And shitty. At the same time. Is that possible?
He spent a while playing Exploding Snap with some sixth year Gryffindors, rambunctious yelling filling his ears as he laughed joyously. Charlie knocked what was left of his drink back, feeling the burn against the back of his throat, and turned back towards the room to find his friends. He spotted Finn in the corner and attempted to push through the mass of bodies towards him. On his way, however, he was grabbed by the shoulder and jerked against the wall.
"What th-"
"Charlie. Hair?" Maxine raised an eyebrow pointedly at the taller boy's head of, now bright blue, hair. The dim lighting in the room covered it up for the most part, but when he was hit by the lighting, it was blatantly obvious.
"Are you drunk?" Maxine looked him in the eyes, ignoring the fact that she was intoxicated as well.
"Me? Pshh," His hand rested on her shoulder in an attempt to balance himself. His face was scrunched up in concentration as he attempted to turn his hair color back to normal.
Maxine threw her head back in laughter, "Little baby Charlie coming out of his shell! I've taught you well, young Padawan." She tilted her head down in faux reverence and left the boy standing against the wall, half of his hair still bright blue.
The loud boom of voices shook the room and those in it. He could feel the thunk thunk of footsteps in the floor beneath him. The mass of bodies caused a sweaty haze to cover the room, shoulders and chests bumping against Charlie everywhere he turned. He decided to grab a cup of water and get some fresh air, slurring "'Scuse me," as he bumped into the celebrating teenagers and made his way out of the portrait door.
The cool air of the castle hallways hit the sweat against his head as the world turned silent. The partygoers surely must have used a silencing charm to avoid Professors, seeing as how as soon as the door closed, the voices left along with it.
The first button of his shirt was undone and his hair was a mess, but Charlie couldn't care less as he wandered aimlessly around the halls. Perhaps he should be worrying about being caught by Filch and his demon cat, but the thought didn't even cross his mind.
