Charlie returned to her apartment in Farrington just as the evening sky faded into a soft night. 

It had been a long day—starting with her tea date with John, then her afternoon classes at the University before working part-time as a barista in a coffee shop. She'd made the short commute countless times before, but the entire routine had been different today.

Everything after her date had passed in a blur, and even now, hours later, her mind was still replaying the conversations with John—his deep voice, his British accent, the way he'd looked at her, the easy way their conversation had flowed.

When she unlocked the door to the flat, she shared it with her roommate, Hailey. The creak of the door welcomed her back to her shelter. A sense of calm washed over her as she stepped inside, contrasting with the cool London air outside.

Their flat was cozy—with open-plan kitchen and a living room—just right for two. Her bedroom, tucked toward the back, provided the perfect retreat. They shared a bathroom outside their bedrooms. Charlie kicked off her ankle boots, feeling the warmth under her feet. It felt good to be home, but she couldn't shake the restless energy buzzing inside her.

After a quick shower, Charlie slipped into her usual sleepwear—a light shirt and soft cotton pajama pants, perfect for lounging. Her damp hair hung loosely over her shoulders as she padded barefoot across the room. Her space was covered with plain white wallpaper with softly lit glow of her bedside lamp, casting warm shadows over the pale blue linens of her bed. The faint scent of lavender filled the air from the diffuser she'd left running all day.

Across from her bed was her desk with stacks of books, sticker notes and a laptop with wireless mouse sprawl around with stationary stacked in neat order. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Charlie reached for her phone on the nightstand. A few unread messages from Hailey popped up on her screen, probably updates asking about the date. But her eyes drifted to another message she hadn't texted back as well.

Her mother.

Charlie exhaled, pressing her lips together as she opened the text.

Mom: How's everything? School? Work? You taking care of yourself?

Classic. Straight to the point but laced with concern, like always.

She tapped her fingers against the screen, her fingers hovered the keyboards. Wrote a word. Deletes them. Then, writes the text again. She deleted them again.

She sighed.

Telling her mother about the date was out of the question—she'd never hear the end of it.

She could already imagine the interrogation: Who is he? How old is he? What does he do? Followed by a long-winded lecture about staying focused on her studies and not getting distracted by men who may or may not have intentions.

Yeah. No way.

Charlie: I'm good, just a long day. Classes were fine. Work was busy, but nothing new in London.

She hesitated, then added:

Charlie: How about you?

It was enough to keep the conversation flowing without giving away too much. The typing bubbles appeared. Charlie ran a hand through her hair, watching as her mother's reply popped up.

Mom: I'm fine. Just checking in on you. Don't overwork yourself, okay?

She smiled a little. It was her mother's way of saying I love you without actually saying it.

Charlie: I wont.

She set her phone back on the nightstand, letting it rest face-down. Charlie leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The day had been long, but she wasn't tired.

Her mother had always been about order and in control. She was the kind of woman who operated on efficiency rather than emotion, someone who saw the world in clear, logical terms. There was no room for uncertainty.

Charlie, on the other hand, had always been a little different. A little freer, a little more willing to embrace the unknown. Where her mother thrived on planning, Charlie preferred to feel things out, to see where life took her. She wasn't reckless—not really—but she wasn't the type to follow a set path just because it was expected of her.

They'd butted heads over it countless times.

Her mother wanted her to have direction, to make choices based on logic rather than passion. Charlie wanted to explore, to take risks, to figure things out as she went. But despite their differences, she never doubted that her mother loved her. Even if she wasn't the type to coddle, or fuss, or say the words outright. Love, for her mother, was shown in other ways—through check-in texts, reminders to eat properly, casual mentions of I read an article that might help you in your major, thought you'd find it interesting.

It was small things.

Like now, with her mother making sure she wasn't overworking herself, even though she would never say I miss you or I worry about you out loud.

Charlie knew there were some things she couldn't tell her. Like the fact that she'd gone on a date with a man twice her age today. A man her mother would definitely have something to say about.

As she rolled onto her side, staring at the soft glow of her nightstand lamp. She wasn't ashamed of it—of the way she found herself drawn to him—but she wasn't ready to hear the skepticism, the overly protective mother disguised with blunt honesty.

So, for now, it would stay her little secret.

When her gaze shifted to the books scattered across her bed—textbooks and notes she needed to review for tomorrow's class. She pulled her notes onto her lap, flipping through the pages. The words blurred for a moment, lines of text bleeding into one another before she blinked and refocused.

She tapped the page lightly with her pen, grounding herself. One section at a time. That's how she did it. Breaking things down, summarizing in her own words—anything to make it stick. Her fingers hovered over the open textbook, but instead of diving in, she reached for her own notes first. She always relied on them more—short, bullet-pointed summaries in her own words were easier to digest than the dense paragraphs of political theory staring back at her.

The textbook was a necessary evil, but her notes were survival.

Until the bedroom door creaked open, she turned her eyes as her roommate entered before she could give up on her homework. Hailey had that look in her eyes, which said she was ready to pounce her with questions. She wore her usual oversized pajama pants and a tank top that said, I Woke Up Like This.

Her short, dark hair was styled in its usual messy waves. Hailey had a way of lighting up the room, her energy contagious even when Charlie wasn't in the mood in those days.

"Oh, there she is," Hailey teased, leaning against the doorframe while her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "You've been MIA since your tea date. What's up?"

"Just studying, Hailey." Charlie said without looking at her, flipping a page she hadn't actually read.

"Uh-huh." Hailey crossed her arms, not buying it for a second. "Studying what, exactly? Because I don't think you texted me back about how your date went. So spill."

Charlie rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She should've known Hailey wouldn't let this go. Her roommate could sniff out secrets, and once she latched onto something, there was no escaping it.

"It was just tea," Charlie said and glanced at her.

"Just tea?" Hailey scoffed, pushing off the door frame and plopped onto the bed. "It's never just tea when you've got that look on your face. You're floating."

Charlie shook her head and set her textbook aside with a little too much ease. Too many blocks of text. Talking to Hailey was easier since she was right—Charlie had promised to text her roommate about how it went, but she forgot.

"I'm not," she said casually, but her cheeks flushed a bit.

"Oh, you totally are," Hailey teased, her grin growing wider as she leaned in. "Now talk. Who is he?"

She sighed, and reached for her phone. Pulling up SparkMatch, she opened John's profile. Taking a deep breath, she turned the phone around and handed it to her roommate. "Here."

Then she braced herself as Haily stared at the profile, her mouth hanging open. "Holy shit, Charlotte!"

Charlie shifted on the bed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I know it's weird... but we hit it off over tea and... he's interesting."

"Interesting? He's old enough to be your dad!" Hailey exclaimed. "When you said you had a date, I wasn't expecting this—" she paused, eyes scanning the screen again. "—that guy is unreal. Like, where did you even find this silver fox? You better tell me you've locked down date number two."

Her cheeks burned as she took the phone back.

"We're taking it slow," she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Hailey rolled her eyes, smirking. "It better be! Seriously, he looks like he just stepped out of a military action movie. Rugged, brooding, the kind of guy who could steal your heart with one look. He's a fine wine."

Charlie rolled her eyes but couldn't help and muttered to herself. "I knew this was a mistake."

"Oh no, this is the best decision you've made this year!" Hailey declared with a cheeky grin, sitting up straighter. "Hot damn, I wish I could take him for myself. He's hot, Char. Like, I've-seen-some-shit kind of hot. What's his tale?"

After taking her phone back from Hailey and setting it down on the bed, Charlie shook her head. "There's not much to tell. We met for tea and talked... and his accent is definitely British."

Hailey gasped dramatically. "Jealous!"

"Yeah, but he's quiet."

"Quiet?" Her eyes sparkled with interest.

Charlie shrugged. "He didn't talk about himself much."

"Why not?" Hailey frowned.

Charlie wished she had a better answer. John hadn't seemed like the type to brag or boast. He'd been careful with his words, but it wasn't like he was hiding anything from her.

"Maybe he's just humble," Charlie guessed.

"Okay, yeah, Humble. Boring. But he's an upgrade from the boys around here. I'm so jealous," Hailey said.

Charlie smiled, nodding. "He's not boring. He really listens when I talk—like he's paying attention, actually thinking about what I'm saying. It's different."

Hailey leaned in, grinning. "Mysterious and thoughtful? That's a dangerous combination."

Charlie nodded again, her mind drifting back to how John had looked at her with those intense blue eyes.

"Yeah. But in a good way."

Hailey threw herself back onto the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Ugh. You're out here with a silver fox who probably knows all the best rooftop bars, and I'm stuck swiping through Tinder hell."

Charlie laughed, shaking her head. "It's not like that. He's older, sure. He didn't say much about his job, but I'm guessing he doesn't hold a typical desk job."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

Charlie smiled faintly until her phone buzzed on the bed between them. Hailey's eyes lit up.

"Speaking of your British fox..."

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw John's name flash across the screen. Her fingers hovered over the phone for a second, and she could feel Hailey's excitement next to her.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie opened the message.

John: How are you doing?

She smiled softly, her fingers moving quickly.

Charlie: Im good. Hwo abouy you?

Her brows knitted. Hwo? Abouy? Ugh!

She deleted the whole thing and started over.

Charlie: I'm good. How abut you?

She groaned softly. No, not abut—about!

Hailey nudged her arm. "What's he saying?"

She tilted the phone away, flustered. "Hold on."

She erased it again, slower this time.

Charlie: I'm good. How about you?

Better. She hit send. Her phone buzzed again.

John: Had a long night. Hung out with my lads at the pub. Good company, but I'm knackered.

Charlie could almost picture him at the pub, surrounded by his friends. She started typing.

Charlie: Sounds like a goood night. Glad you got to unwind!

Wait. Goood?

She backspaced once and sent it before she could second-guess herself.

Hailey leaned over again, grinning. "What's he saying now?"

Charlie quickly tapped her screen off, pretending to yawn. "Just pub talk."

Her phone vibrated again.

John: Listen, I'd like to keep in touch. Could I get your number? I want to get out of this bloody spark app since I don't want to stay in there.

Her stomach flipped.

Oh. That was... fast.

She hesitated. Giving him her number meant this was personal. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Charlie: Sure, hrer's my numver.

She cursed under her breath and quickly corrected it.

Charlie: Sure, here's my number.

Hailey gasped softly as soon as Charlie hit send.

"Ooooh, now it's getting serious," Hailey teased. "You gave him your number? I think he likes you!"

Charlie shook her head. "It's too early, Hailey. He's just being nice."

"Nice?" Hailey repeated, eyebrow raised. "Charlie, do you know his motive for asking for your number?"

Before Charlie could respond, another message buzzed through.

John: Thanks. I was thinking, do you fancy fishing with me tomorrow?

Charlie blinked, reading the message twice.

Fishing?

That wasn't what she expected for a second date. Charlie started typing, fingers moving too fast again.

Charlie: Yess! I wa shoping to heae whn youl tach me. Id love to try 😊

She froze.

Wait. What the hell did I just write? Wa shoping? Whn? Youl? Tch?

Panic flared before she erased everything again.

Hailey tapped the bed. "Charlie, hurry up!"

Charlie gritted her teeth and forced herself to type slower this time.

Charlie: Yes! I was hoping to hear when you'll teach me to fish. I'd love to try 😊

Finally. Sent.

"Our second date is going to be fishing," she announced casually.

Her jaw dropped before she hissed, "You? Fishing?"

"I can try new things, you know?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Her phone buzzed again.

John: Good. I'll pick you up at 5:30. Early start means better luck.

Charlie stared at her screen. Five-thirty in the morning?

She wasn't a morning person. At all. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Charlie: Earlt in th emorning? Your makig me work fo rthis secod date, huh? 😅

She grimaced before erasing the words and trying again.

Charlie: Early in the morning? You're making me work for this second date, huh? 😅

Better.

Hailey snorted. "You? Up early? I'll believe it when I see it."

Her phone buzzed again.

John: Wouldn't want to waste a good day. I'll bring tea and some quick bites before sunrise and feed you breakfast after. Tell me where you are and I'll be there.

That simple request made her heart flutter. He wasn't just suggesting an early morning; he was making sure she'd be comfortable, bringing tea to sweeten the deal. She quickly typed.

Charlie: I'l be ready for you. Cna wa...

...Damn it.

Charlie: I'll be ready for you. Can't wait!

She sighed in relief after hitting send.

Hailey smirked. "Took you long enough."

Charlie flushed. "Shut up."

Her phone buzzed one last time.

John: See you in the morning then. Sweet dreams, Charlotte.

It made her chest tighten—Charlotte always sounded like a warning coming from her mother. But from him, it felt softer. She started typing but hesitated.

Should she say Goodnight, John or something else? Her fingers trembled just slightly. She backspaced, retyped.

Charlie: Gnight, John.

Wait—

Backspace.

Charlie: Goodnight, John.

There.

She set the phone down before she could mess up again.

Hailey raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe you're getting up way early for a fishing date with a guy you've only seen once."

"Yes, Hailey. That's exactly what I'm doing." Charlie said, smiling at her in return.

Hailey slowly grinned. "You better text me updates tomorrow, or I'll assume you fell in the lake, and I'll have to rescue you."

"I'll keep you posted," Charlie said.

As Hailey left the room, Charlie exhaled.

Fishing wasn't something she had pictured herself doing. But she was willing to try something different.