Who: Charlotte Evans and Briar Hayes What: Sisterly talk! Ish. Where: Briar's place in Paris, France When: Sunday evening Warnings: None-ish?
This wasn't the first time Charlotte had been to Paris, but it was probably the first time she hadn't paid attention to anything as she took a cab to her destination. She was looking out the window, of course, but she wasn't looking at anything. She was too distracted, too... absorbed. She couldn't stop thinking. As if things hadn't been too much before, now there was a Rose Red in the mix, not to mention an ageless great-aunt? She couldn't help but feel bitter (she was always the youngest, always would be, no matter what), but at the same time, she was a little relieved. She knew Jeremiah meant well, but she couldn't talk to him. Not yet. Not ever? She shook her head; no, that was just the guilt talking. Hopefully that would stop soon.
Before she knew it, the cab had arrived at Briar's address, and a minute later, Charlotte was standing outside of her apartment. She knocked on the door, timidly at first, but a little stronger as she built up her courage. This was strangely impulsive for her, but this woman was Rose Red. She was a hundred and fifty years old. If not Briar, who else was Charlotte going to talk to?