signed_sabrina | (no subject)

Sabrina Spellman is turning seventeen tonight.

Honestly, in the time since her sixteenth birthday, she's seriously doubted that she would make it to this day-- and certainly doubted that she would be free from the Path of Night and the Path of Night, able to do as she pleases. She's not sure she can say she expected anything that's happened to her over the year, really, not a single thing.

But standing outside the warehouse Kavinsky has thoughtfully offered for her use, in a somewhat accurate Halloween costume, she's absolutely happier than she ever foresaw. Where she'd been worried about losing her boyfriend and best friends, she's got three people she loves so much she can hardly stand it, in entirely different ways. Where she'd had a ghost or worse for a father, she has a dad who knows who she is, her capabilities, and loves her only for being herself. She misses her aunts and Ambrose, but knowing that she's still back with them is of great comfort. She can't say she's doing much better on the high school front, but she's not sure she cares.

Enough people seem fascinated by the sex cult rumors that when she and Salem had littered both high school campuses, Sabrina had got plenty of takers. The party itself will start soon, and Sabrina looks up, comforted by the lack of full moon. Taking her broom, she carefully sweeps each step clean, feeling the ritual settle her. The warehouse inside looks a lot like a clearing in the woods, complete with bonfire, and if the punch is spiked, well-- it is a high school party.

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"It was, wasn't it?" she laughs, leaning into him as he kisses her. "We're in English class together, so maybe I shouldn't have been quite so rude, but..." Rosie waves one dismissive hand. "No, he deserved it."

Rosie glances back at where her gawking classmate had been--where he still was, now talking with some other partygoer--and rolls her eyes. "Oh, none of us are helping at all," she says, grinning up at Charlie. Held close like this, knowing that both of them are aware of the truth in a way almost nobody outside their close little foursome could ever be, it's even easier for her to be simply amused by all those scandalized reactions rather than humiliated. "I can only imagine what school's going to be like tomorrow. If we even go. Sabrina's been saying we all ought to skip and get breakfast somewhere instead."

With everything she knows Nick has planned for later this evening--and presumes Charlie does too, though as always she chooses to set that at more of a remove in deference to their friendship--not going to school in the morning seems a very wise choice.

Charlie does know what Nick's got planned, and he knows what he's got planned for her himself, too, so he thinks that does sound like a very sensible sentiment. He smirks at that, nodding.

"You're right. I don't think any of us need to sit through homeroom."

"Exactly," she says, swaying a bit in his arms as the music shifts to something new, a thudding beat that drifts through the transformed space of the warehouse. "I don't particularly like homeroom as it is, anyway. Much better to abandon it for the sake of more interesting company."

She laughs, the sound bright and a little musical. "And waffles, maybe."

"Waffles definitely," he says, his arms wrapped around her waist as they dance, keeping her close as they sway to the rhythm. "That place that does waffles and really, really good coffee."

"Oh, perfect," she says with a silly little sigh, half joking and half true happiness at the thought of it. "I haven't been there in...since just the three of us went months ago now, before Nick even got here. Definitely time to go back." She smiles again, moving to tangle her arms loosely around his neck as they keep dancing.

If there's another brief flurry of whispers somewhere around them, someone hissing See, I told you all of them were-- to a friend standing nearby, the music is loud enough that Rosie doesn't hear it at all.

"So what are you supposed to be?" she asks Charlie after another few minutes, moving just far enough away from him to take in more of his costume, all leather and denim and dark kohl-lined eyes. "You look fantastic, whatever it is."

"It's sort of inspired by a friend of mine back home," he says, grinning at her, the fake silver ring in the corner of his lip catching the light. "Just generic punk asshole? I thought Sabrina would probably dig the eyeliner."

"Must have been an interesting friend." Whatever punk is, it seems to be another of those things that's from well after Rosie's time--and judging by Charlie's outfit and that silver ring she's only just noticed in his lip, it's something that would have horrified most of the people she'd known back home. She'll have to learn more about it, if only because of that.

"And Sabrina's absolutely going to enjoy the eyeliner," she adds, glancing at the crowd for a moment as she tries to spot the girl in question. "It makes you look...I don't know if dangerous is the right word, but something like it."

Charlie huffs a laugh through his nose. They both know that he's probably the least dangerous of the four of them, unless it's just his thought process that they're talking about. It's enough to earn Rosie a kiss on the cheek, though.

"Nick's going to love that corset," he says. "They both are."

"Oh, I know," she says, her tone bright and pleased--with the night, with the company, with the thought of how daring she'd been even choosing this costume in the first place. "I still can't believe I bought it in the first place, but it'll be worth it if only for that." He kisses her then, the brush of his lips friendly and gentle against her cheek, and Rosie grins.

"Well, honestly," she says after a pause, "Sabrina's already seen it." Her smile softens to one that's a little less broad, if just as steady. There's no secret here, really, but this part of how things have changed within their group still leaves her a bit less sure of herself. "The day I bought it, I went to get her opinion on it, since I wasn't sure if it was completely ridiculous or not."

"Oh, really?" asks Charlie, eyebrow raised. He might not have feelings for Rosie, not like that, but he's a boy, nominally heterosexual, and picturing his girlfriend with another girl? Definitely hot.

"Yes, really," she says, her face growing more than a little warm at the expression on his face. They all know the various ways they've ended up together, in bed and out, and teasing of this kind from Charlie is far more preferable than anything said by some of the boys at school, but none of that is ever enough to keep her from blushing. "Suffice to say, she didn't think it looked ridiculous at all."

"I bet she didn't," says Charlie. He only half knows what Rosie and Nick have planned for Sabrina; he doesn't mind that at all. "She's going to come and crash at my place once her surprise is over."

"Of course she is," Rosie says, fond and genuinely pleased at the news. "I wouldn't have expected anything else."

As much as she's looking forward to everything she and Nick are going to set in motion--in almost no time at all, now--that Sabrina will be leaving them once it's through, waking up with the only one of the three of them who's truly become her home here in this mad and baffling city, strikes her as the only correct choice.

They're making it work, the four of them, and Charlie can't help but find that a little bit miraculous. He leans his weight into Rosie for a moment, just holding her close. "Do you want to dance with me properly? Before you go upstairs?"

She smiles, the weight of him against her close and friendly in the way it always is, and nods. "I'd love that," she says, moving just enough to slip her hand in his and start leading him towards the dance floor. "I always like dancing with you."