"Oh, Charlie…"
Charlie meeps, flushes rosy apple red instantaneously. Rainbow sparks jump from her fingers for a moment, and she fidgets her hands self-consciously. Words rush out in a babbling, giggling stream; from a burst of unprepared hope, longing, love.
There are moments when her eyes shyly dart down to her feet, but they always, always return to Vaggie.
" Oh, Vaggie…"
Vaggie freezes; a warm flame wells up in her heart and illuminates her grey skin. Her throat is suddenly dry, and she swallows. She stares and can't, won't, look away – a moth mesmerised by blazing light.
Charlie reaches a hand up, gently strokes her face. Vaggie's voice catches, and blurts out in an involuntary, adoring whimper.