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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
Had it really come to this? Passing Charles Macmillan back and forth like an upright booby prize?
Entry Wounds


Private
and I'll put all my pieces back together
#17
He ought to ask her to leave already, so he could take a moment to pull himself together privately, but her unfinished sentence snagged in his brain. He looked up at her in spite of himself, eyes heavy with regret. "What, Rosalie?"



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#18
Rosalie was grateful to still be on the ground, for she was certain the look in his eyes — one so heavy and remorseful that she could meet it for only a few seconds before casting her gaze back to the smudged chalk line — would have forced her to her knees. She shook her head slightly then, forcing any questions or apologies back down her throat. There was nothing more to be said or done now that he remembered. Nothing more for the ritual, nothing for his (and her) heart.

Just, nothing.

(There was, of course, still the question of the ring, but Rosalie would sooner leave it for a stranger to find than touch it with him looking like that.)

She tried to force out a goodbye or something, anything to give them both the closure they had been dancing around for years, and still her voice failed her. Instead, she moved away from the circle completely and looked to the door again. Soon, Rosalie would leave soon. She simply needed to know she could stand before trying to do so.



stunning set by Lady <3
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#19
Nothing, apparently. Ezra sighed.

"We're not going to talk again after this," he said, flat. "You should — I'm still in love with you, too," he said past the tightness in his throat. "If you didn't already know, I — I think you should know."



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#20
No, please don't do this, she nearly begged. This was the conversation they had to have, the final part to their saga that would allow all the jagged edges to smooth over, and Rosalie longed to prolong it for just awhile longer. It could be enough for today to sit with the knowledge that they were both still in love with the other. The conversation still had to happen, she knew it as surely as she believed his conviction that this was to be their last interaction, but not today. Not now.

(It was the same desperation she felt in the closet, Rosalie realized with a level of devastation she didn't believe herself capable of anymore. She would have done anything throughout the past four years — anything — for just a few more minutes in the warmth their love provided.)

She couldn't look at him, couldn't face the fact that this was to be their end. Not the argument, not the heated moment in the closet or the tense conversations at parties. This. Just this.

It wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

"I - I didn't know, no." Rosalie managed, her voice thick with emotion. He loved her and he was leaving her, just as she left him all those years ago. He loved her still, despite it all. Rosalie could barely breathe through the sobs lodged in her throat. Her nails dug into her palms, her eyes screwed shut. Ezra loved her. Was this what he felt all those years ago when she left? Was that why he stood paralyzed while she fled? Rosalie had never understood his reluctance to fight, his lack of urgency to make her understand, and even though she understood the curse to be involved now it still didn't make sense. Not completely.

(The dark days. 1890 was a rough year. She knew that, but why hadn't he come the next day? Why hadn't he tried immediately after? Did the shadows work that fast?)

"The gloves - what - what do you plan to do with them?" She managed to ask after a minute. There were other objects too, a necklace, a handkerchief, the ring, but none represented the future the way the gloves had. None held the promise of the small hand that would one day fill it.



stunning set by Lady <3
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#21
She wanted to know what he planned, which was laughable. Twenty minutes ago he might have had plans, before he'd had his memories back, but now anything he'd been thinking had to contend with the rush of returned feelings. The version of him prior to forgetting Rosalie had no plans — he'd just been stagnating. There was a reason the things were shut away in a drawer in another room (and there was a reason the drawer didn't have a layer of dust on it when he'd rediscovered it this week).

"I wish I could say I was going to get rid of them," he said with a frown. "Of everything I've been hanging on to."



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#22
"If you do -" Rosalie started, her voice thick and shoulders tense. Ezra wanted to forget her, wanted to move on and ignore their past despite the fact that they still loved one another. And, had Rosalie any ounce of selfishness remaining to her, she might've pushed him on it. She might've asked him to reconsider their circumstances and perhaps forge a path together once more.

Except, this was to be their last conversation. And Rosalie couldn't continue weighing him down like this, it was bad enough that she had forced him to remember all over again.

"If you do decide to get rid of - " Rosalie broke off once more, the thought was a nauseating one. She took a steeling breath and forced herself to look at him. "Of everything, would you allow me to keep the gloves?" She finally managed, feeling smaller than a mouse.



stunning set by Lady <3
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#23
Ezra's first instinct was to say no, because if he didn't think he should hang on to mementos of the past he certainly didn't think Rosalie should, either. It didn't sound very healthy... but if he was really going to go ahead with cutting ties with her, then worrying about her mental health wasn't really his business anymore, was it?

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. Maybe he would find it easier to send them to her than he had to consider throwing them away or pawning them.



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