Florence's POV
Getting ready with Charlotte was never just getting ready.
It was an event. A full production with its own arc, energy, and soundtrack - the kind of thing that started as preparation and became something else entirely about twenty minutes in. Louder. More alive. Less focused on the actual task at hand.
Charlotte took over my bathroom mirror without asking, spreading her things across the left side of the counter like she'd done this in a hundred different bathrooms. She had a system. I claimed the right side. We fell into the rhythm naturally, the way you slip into patterns you've practiced since high school. No negotiation required. There was comfort in that familiarity - knowing exactly how much space she needed, where she'd set down her makeup bag, which drawer she'd r
