“Oh! My, that must be a lot of work,” Cynthia had seen a lot of papers go through Will’s desk and that was when he had been working with the Navy not even one of the main groups who’d vote on bills like that. She couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to try and manage a bill. “What is it you’re campaigning for?”
Charlie nodded, it was. And especially this close to election season. But it had been strategic. Pushing it right as the presidential election approached firmly put people on sides of for or against, and in swing states where the environment was a hot button topic, it was a way to potentially put the Democrats ahead. But that wasn’t something to tell Cynthia. “I’m pushing an environmental bill, trying to restructure the BUILD Act, which is almost ten years old now and pretty outdated. It involves designating funding to states for innovative, green transportation technology.
“Honestly I won’t tell a soul, I’m just glad to know I’m not the only one who finds it overwhelming,” Cynthia said with a small chuckle. If you’d asked her a few years ago if she imagined a life as a politicians wife the answer would have been no but she loved Will and she’d gladly go through the dinners if it got him what he wanted. “What brings you hear tonight then if it isn’t your normal event?”
Charlie nodded, glad that the pair had found a little bit of banter. As much as Charlie didn’t agree with many of the things Cynthia’s husband stood for, it wasn’t going to get them anywhere creating more enemies, especially if the Republican ticket managed to take office this election. “I’m pushing a bill,” Charlie admitted. It was the truth, and he wasn’t in the business of really hiding it. “This is probably one of my last chances to talk to some of the people here in a less formal setting than what congress or my office has to offer. I’m here as a plus one to one of my friends.”
Henry didn’t want to believe that the world was like that; hateful and mean. There might be some who might accuse him to turning his gaze away from such behaviour, when his own father was one such people. But he pretended not to know those accusations either. One had to do what they had to so to keep their life from falling apart. But he felt good about hearing praise from his father, and it reinforced that unconscious shield that he’d put up, with that idea that his father wasn’t like everyone else. He nodded along, “That’s what my father wants. A stronger, unified country. People working together.” While from someone else the words might feel rehearsed, from Henry they were real. He believed in his father, and in William Bell, who his father had told him so much about. He’s curious, and perhaps it’s not at all the intent of Charlie’s words, but he’s spent so much time thinking about the election that he can’t help but think. “If Berkeley wins, do you think he’ll bring you onto his team? Rather seems like you’re the face of transportation right now.”
Charlie smiled, and although it could have seemed genuine on the outside, Charlie had heard it all before... This pledge of working together and unifying. In reality, all the false promises made Charlie want to throw up. Deep down, despite being positivist, Charlie knew that unified would never exist so long as state rights came before science and ideas of what constituted as acceptable excluded Charlie and their friends. But they let it slide. Really, though, the question about Berkeley caught them off guard. It took all that was in them to avoid laughing again, to avoid saying as if centrist Berkeley would ever bring me into a cabinet. But they just smiled and shrugged. No need to let the Republicans air their dirty laundry with the president. “I know transportation like the back of my hand because my PhD covered it, but I wouldn’t.... I wouldn’t give up my ability to influence healthcare and queer rights legislation for transportation alone. There would be other positions I’d be willing to take on.... but not transportation.”
alternatively, three moments of clarity and one moment of heartbreak.
[ feat. @royisms ]
“you can call me charles”
it’s a late night at the office and there’s an early morning the next day. both charlie and amanda know this, but it never stopped them from staying up late, and it doesn’t tonight. with both of them living such busy lives - charlie a newly elected government official and amanda running a successful campaign herself, the pair found every moment they could. sometimes, it was 3am between a bottle of red wine and some green.
charlie pulls themselves off their fire escape, extinguishing the remainder of the joint.
i once set off every smoke alarm in this building, they told her earlier when she watched them climb out the fire escape and light a joint for the first time. i’m not letting that happen again. and although he most certainly did in the coming months, that night, charlie wandered back in without having to deal with the fire department.
midnight conversations about shit neither of them understood were common. about god and science, about skeptics and supernatural, about the fear of the unknown. one might have argued they were too optimistic for their own good sometimes, but charlie enjoyed the late nights and early mornings with amanda, where they could fall asleep with her in their arms, their tall body wrapped around her small frame.
charlie barely remembers it, but in the back of his memory sits a piece of a conversation they’ve had only had with a handful of other people.
“you can call me charles, you know that right?” they whisper, eyes fluttered closed. “i don’t use it in the house because people are assholes.” their words begin to slow slightly, as if the speed was being turned down. “but i like the name. it’s why i never changed it fully. i just don’t like giving those dickheads power over me. but you can call me charles… if you want.”
“the breakup”
they are never at a loss for words. of all the public speaking and here they are, sitting on the kitchen counter, fumbling over syllables. they wonder if she notices. they wonder if she can tell every time they sit on a counter now they think of him. it’s an idle distraction - although not completely harmless - for the moment. for some reason, knowing what they’ve planned to do tonight has taken charlie’s brain through the ringer. they wrote something down and scrapped it a hundred times and how exactly do you break up with someone who’s perfect for you but the timing just isn’t right?
they near spill the words out of their mouths at the same time, and it takes charlie a second to process what’s happening, but they laugh about it after… a long time after. at first charlie is sad about the fact that they both thought there was too much going on to keep the other in their life. something about that fact makes it all the more painful.
“just friends”
tequila before a what’s sure to be a shitty week in the house is common at this point, but tonight, there was something else behind the drinks.
after rekindling their friendship, charlie and amanda find themselves stumbling out of the one bar that’s open past two am, holding onto each other. charlie’s probably more drunk than amanda, or at least, he believes that’s the case. his tall, lithe frame is teetering on his heels. his hands hold her body for balance even though she is much smaller than they are. still, there’s no denying they’re both out of it. she runs ahead for a moment, and charlie nearly topples over before they catch their balance. they watch her spin in front of them and charlie smiles, admires the way her body moves again, hopes they aren’t crossing a line with their eyes. they show off the new piercing sitting in their left ear. charlie asks if maybe next they should get a belly button piercing and their laughter elicits a couple of grumbled groans from annoyed neighbors.
the taxi ride back to amanda’s was something charlie didn’t realize they were waiting for. the stories are familiar until amanda whispers “you know, you were some of the best kisses i’ve ever had.” and charlie smiles and says thank you and part of him wishes she had said something more.
and as if god herself heard charlie’s prayer, he feels amanda’s breath fall out ever so gently…. “do it again?”
they barely make it into amanda’s apartment before charlie’s hands move to amanda’s waist, holding her as if letting her go again would be the worst decision in the world. their bodies intertwine again, and this isn’t the first time, but god, charlie knows this is the worst.
she says “we can call this closure right?”
he can’t help but think, no. i can’t.
they don’t say that out loud.
“at your door”
that hot july night, amanda shows up unexpected.
charlie’s glasses sit on the bridge of their nose, hair tied in a messy top knot. they move their papers aside to get up off the floor when the doorbell rings and their eyebrows twist together for a moment as they look through the peephole in their door, not sure who would be stopping by tonight. like second nature, charlie slides open the deadbolt and the door as soon as he sees who’s on the other side. before it’s even is fully open, charlie’s immediately asking questions. what’s up? is something wrong? are you okay? what happened? the words stumble out of their mouth quickly only because he doesn’t know why she’s here.
she doesn’t answer with her words.
it takes all of thirty seconds before amanda’s shoes have been popped off in the entryway and charlie is carrying her into the bedroom, lips tangled into each other. their paint-covered tank top is thrown across the room, amanda’s skirt is on the ground and all of a sudden their bodies hit charlie’s mattress before the world stops for a split-second. their eyes meet. charlie’s brown pupils and her green ones find each other in a moment between heatwaves. they don’t need to ask if she’s okay - deep down, they know the answer. they know that amanda probably needs their warm body tonight and nothing else. but something about this split second between them changes things. as if their eyes tell each other stories neither understands. their lips move down to amanda’s slowly, softly. charlie knows what his kiss means, what it really means.
i love you so much.
i want you.
i need you.
i miss you.
please come back to me.
they don’t say any of those things, but confusion compounds when she kisses back softly, as if the unspoken dialogue between them is a cracked cypher code. as if maybe she gets it.
that night is different than any other they’ve spent together. for the first time, charlie takes control in a way they never have with her. amanda has always been the one to instigate, to lead, to show charlie exactly how they want to be loved. but this time, the movements between them are soft, gentle, as if neither wants to break the other’s already broken pieces. charlie handles her with care that night. it’s the first time they don’t just fuck each other, the first time they touch each other in a way that cuts deeper than the nails on each other’s backs. this time it is raw, and honest, and more than just good sex.
the next morning, charlie wakes up before she does, feels their long hair falling out of the elastic wrapped around their brunette locks and walks over to the washroom. the small task of redoing their hair breaks them that morning. they feel their eyes well up ever so slightly, throat tightening around the truth sitting in their lungs as they stare at their face in the mirror, blurry without glasses. they know that despite what last night may have seemed like, charlie isn’t an idiot, and neither is amanda. he knows when the universe just makes things work and he knows that is very different from when amanda doesn’t call him for months on end only to show up at his door and immediately press their lips together. he knows that he is nothing more than her safety net - a home when the wind breaks walls.
it doesn’t stop them, though. it never has. they splash their face with water and pretend they weren’t just a mild mess in the bathroom, picking up their glasses from the floor where they had fallen the night before and move back into the bedroom, stopping in the doorframe to look at amanda’s sleeping frame, smiling tragically at the blonde - as if maybe they could stay in this moment forever.
she shifts and wakes up. charlie catches her movement through the lens of his horn rimmed glasses. his vision is clear now, but it’s tainted pink today. she looks over at him and he smiles back before crawling back into bed with her. their lips pressing together again, soft and gentle, a good morning charlie didn’t ask for.
t h e l a s t t i m e.
a playlist for broken hearts and unrequited feelings
prologue — gravity by sara bareilles
part one: when you come back —
1. the last time by taylor swift // 2. without you (bbc session) by oh wonder // 3. bad habit by ben platt // 4. a drop in the ocean by ron pope // 5. incomplete by james bay // 6. when (live) by dodie
interlude: august slipped away —
august by taylor swift
part two: i gave so many signs —
1. hard feelings/loveless by lorde // 2. hurt any less // 3. worst in me by julia michaels // 4. be my mistake by the 1975 // 5. my thoughts on you by the band camino // 6. exile (ft bon iver) by taylor swift
epilogue — breathe again by sara bareilles
“you never gave a warning sign.“
[ i gave so many signs. ]
@royisms
Out of instinct, Amanda took half a step back when Charlie’s voice took that exhasperated tone and her eyebrows shot up in surprise and utter confusion. “Jesus,” she breathed out, draping her arms over her chest as if she needed to hold herself. She let a moment of silence linger between them before she decided to answer – of course, a sharp memory of Charlie’s voice mouthing ‘always… Just not like that’ came in and stung her like a bee. “Shit,” she shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “Charlie, I’m sorry, you’ve–” if you knew everything that was weighing on me that night. Not the greatest strategy. Amanda cleared her throat and tentatively grabbed their hand again; with a gentle squeeze, she offered, “So… What happened betweeing seeing someone and more than seeing someone?”
Charlie exhaled softly, a gentle “I’m sorry I-” fell out of their mouth at first, a haphazard attempt to make things better between Amanada’s words but she kept talking, which brought Charlie a sense of relief, that maybe they had been overreacting or reading too far into things or... something of the sort. Charlie didn’t know. They weren’t about to prod. They smiled gently again, softness falling back into their features when they felt Amanda’s hand in theirs, a comfort they didn’t know they needed, champagne flute placed hovering in the air beside them for a moment as they get a little closer to Amanda, as if sharing a secret only the two of them had the privilege of hearing. “Last night. I went over to his house and he made me a birthday dinner and... and it was really sweet, until it wasn’t,” they said, their tone telling that it wasn’t really a bad scenario, just a little less than PG rated one, “And we decided to make it a little more serious,” Charlie shrugged, sighing and rolling their eyes, playfully this time. “I’m a complete idiot, aren’t I?” they said, a small smile gracing their features, honesty, deep, concerned.
There was an answer on the tip of her tongue but she held back just in time – what good would it do either of them for her to keep poking at the fact that she truly could not recall Charlie mentioning a partner? Or whatever ‘a little more than seeing someone’ meant. That mere thought earned her a scoff and she slowly shook her head. Was it just her or was the tension nearly tangible? There was obviously something either she was missing or Charlie had imagined. “Right,” she hummed into her glass as she tilted it in such a way that it looked like she wanted to fit her head into it. “Woah,” she exclaimed, putting her glass down on the bar and raising a hand in her own defense. “I’m not mad, Charlie, why– okay. I’m not mad. I really… Can’t remember you telling me, but it must have just slipped my mind, okay?” a tender hand searched for theirs and she offered a warm smile, which would hopefully make up for her obliviousness. “It’s not, I’m happy for you, that’s great, I’m sorry, it’s been a crazy week,” she assured them with an eager nod of her head.
Charlie narrowed their eyes, genuinely confused. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t remember? You literally went to bed mad at me and left without waking me up, after I told you I was seeing someone.... Amanda, I-” They cut themselves off. Their tone wasn’t necessarily purely angry, but the level of frustration was rising, and Charlie could feel it. Charlie took a deep breath, sipping the glass of wine, trying to recompose themselves. “I’m sorry,” they said. “If you say you aren’t mad, I believe you,” they sighed. “I don’t know, I just thought... I don’t know. I haven’t really seen anyone even semi-seriously in...” since you... “In a really long time. I figured you’d remember if I mentioned it.”
Charlie’s words were low but not enough that she wouldn’t hear them, and her immediate reation was to furrow her brows and let out an amused scoff. It took her longer than she would care to admit to read their face and soften her expression – oh, so this wasn’t a joke. Shit. “Wait…” she cleared her throat and twirling her glass anxiously in her hand, “You’re seeing someone,” it came out as a statement, but it was obvious in the way her face took that confused look she wore so often that she wasn’t completely convinced that it was the truth. She frowned again, thoughtfully, and took another sip of her wine to make some time as her mind finally recollected some distant memory from ten days prior – obviously, there was a reason she’d repressed that conversation to the furthest corner of her mind, yet it was clawing its way back to the front. “Oh,” she breathed out, yet it was the ghost of their lips pulling away from hers that really sealed the deal. The words were still vague, she was so adamant on not remembering. “Well, that’s great, where are they?” it wouldn’t take a genius to note the sheer lack of enthusiasm in her voice.
Charlie’s eyes matched Amanda’s contortion, as if they couldn’t comprehend why exactly Amanda was asking when they had told her. “Yeah, I told you I was....” they trailed. “I mean, it’s a little more than seeing someone now, but...” They took a sip of their drink again, eager to be a little less present for this conversation, but they couldn’t seem to wipe the confusion off their face, yet their lips still in their signature grin, as if their brain couldn’t agree on what do do, whether to laugh awkwardly or be frustrated. “Not invited tonight?” they said, intonation growing as they wondered what was so hard about this for Amanda to comprehend. “We both agreed it was best if we... didn’t show up to my birthday party holding hands... for this reason exactly. You’re mad at me,” they said, matter-of-fact. “I may be fucked up but don’t think I don’t know you, Ames. What’s wrong? Why is this such a big deal?”
Her eyes watched the dark bordeaux liquid flow into the tall glass, almost hypnotically, before she took it between her fingers and brought it up to her lips. With a short taste, she hummed at the familiar flavour and offered an amused look and a tilt of her head to Charlie’s question. “I meant…” she started, unsure if they were teasing her, “I thought you were done with those,” admittedly, not much of an explanation, but she thought the argument was quite self-explanatory. “Unless there’s a step I missed, last time I checked we agreed they weren’t worth it, right?” she tried with an amused chuckle, taking another sip of her drink. “Are you going to let me drink on my own?” she was quick to change the subject and shoot them a feigned annoyed look. “Come on, I’ll catch up to your two drinks in no time without competition.”
Charlie raised their eyebrows as they brought their own champagne glass to their lips, finishing what was left in it before talking again, feeling like there wasn’t enough bubbly liquid to tide them over through this sort of conversation tonight. Especially after what had happened the night before, the details still painted behind their eyes, even if they weren’t completely there at the moment. “I don’t know where you got that from,” Charlie said, pouring another glass of champagne for themselves. “Last time I checked I was having fun and seeing somebody...” they said, voice low and whispered, raising their glass to their lips again, taking a cautious sip despite wanting to down the carbonation.
With a laugh and a round of faint applause as Charlie showed off their outfit, Amanda took the liberty to let her eyes linger – though the mention of one particular Republican brought a confused look onto her face that morphed into a thoughtful expression soon after. There were only so many members of that party who weren’t a complete waste of space, yet one name ringed in the back of her head. Surely they weren’t talking about him… Right? Tilting her head to one side, she followed them through a door to a room where the noise of the party was still audible but distant in the background. “A Republican, huh?” she teased them, crossing her arms over her chest expectatingly. “Thought you were done with those,” she pointed out, again trailing after them down the hallway to try and keep up with their speed ( admittedly, Charlie in heels had legs for days and Amanda could only ever dream of being worthy ). “The finest red you can offer, please,” she nodded shortly, sliding her hands in the back pockets of her pants. “Good turnout,” she commented, taking one more glance around the room.
Charlie could almost hear Amanda’s eyes rolling into the back of her head, and he near followed suit. If they were any more sober, maybe they would have just let it go, let Amanda believe whatever she wanted to about their love life. But their last conversation still stung just a little bit. Maybe sober Charlie would have brushed it off as just Amanda being Amanda, but they had confided in her that night, even if it wasn’t explicit, and wasted Charlie couldn’t tell the difference between Amanda and Amanda ignoring what they had said. “Yeah, it’s pretty good... It’s always nice to get everyone together,” they trailed, popping open the nicer bottle of red they had been saving for the next time Amanda visited. “What do you mean you thought I was done with those?” Charlie asked, casually, eyebrows raised as they poured the red into a glass for Amanda.
There was a point in her life when all of her friends started turning a new decade ( around the same time as her ); she had never cared about getting older too much, and she settled into that four-oh quite nicely if you asked her, but the moments it actually hit close to home went like this: someone else’s birthday party, everyone looks like they’re having a blast, there are more sparkling outfits she knew existed and before she even made it through the door, her feet were killing her and she wondered if she’d be the only one who wasn’t excited about the prospect of wasting another Sunday trying to sober up. It wasn’t personal – she’d been expecting Charlie’s birthday for longer than she could remember ( it’s not like they would have let her forget that easily anyway ). A flash of a crown and that toothy grin she knew so well were enough to pull an amused laugh out of her; with her arms spread, she gladly held them tightly for a brief moment before pulling back to take a look at what she could only assume was a cautiously-selected outfit. With a low whistle, she gently poked their chest with her finger, “Show a little skin, why don’t you.” Shimmying her bag and jacket off her shoulders, Amanda took a look around the room to try and spot any familliar faces before looking back at Charlie. “You’re chipper, how drunk are you already?” she teased them, though she knew for a fact however much Charlie had drank had nothing on the wine intake she’d add to her count by the end of the night.
Charlie could feel their lacquered lips expanding into an even bigger grin as Amanda hugged them back, giggling, twirling a piece of hair in their manicured hand, ponytail sitting on the crown of their head. “This,” Charlie said, doing a full 360 for Amanda to take in their outfit, “Is for the republicans who made me wear a suit on the floor yesterday,” they smirked. A beat. “And maybe one who isn’t here tonight... that’s another story,” they said, shrugging, their voice coy and low, eyes flirtatious. “But I’m glad you approve.” They reached out for Amanda’s bag and jacket, nudging Amanda to follow them into the a side room where they were keeping everyone’s belongings. “This is only my second glass of Champagne, excuse me,” they scoffed, placing Amanda’s things down carefully, teetering slightly on their platform heels before turning around again, as if the room was only a pit stop to the kitchen bar. “Now, what can I get you to drink? The regular?” they said for a moment as their heels clicked down the hallway.
[ september 26, 2020 - charlie’s birthday party ] [ @royisms ]
Only on rare occasions did Charlie find themselves getting both high and drunk at the same time, and their 35th birthday was one of them. An edible and a half deep into the night and two glasses of champagne deep, Charlie smiled when they saw Amanda walk through the door. If they were any more coherent, Charlie might have controlled what was coming out of their mouth, but their heels took them towards the blonde without a second though, smile wide on their face as they approached and adjusted their top. Charlie really was thankful to see her, especially after the harsh interaction they’d had a week and a half ago. “Miss Roy, I’m glad you could make it,” they said cordially, adjusting their playful birthday crown that Adri had placed on their head the moment she walked in. “Can this birthday babe get a hug, pretty please?” they chuckled, breaking character, arms extending outward as they winked playfully.
Her alarm didn’t go off because she’d forgotten to set it before falling asleep, but still her natural clock ( and the ringing of the previous night’s dreaded sound ) had her rubbing her eyes lazily at around seven in the morning. A faint smile graced her lips when she noticed the pack of makeup wipes Charlie had left on her nightstand, and she cautiously maneuvered her legs off the mattress. With her feet finally on the ground, she let out a heavy sigh before pushing herself off the bed and taking the wipes and the closest thing resembling an outfit that she could find towards her bathroom. She eyed her coffee machine ( it was new, the poor thing ) but promptly decided against it, brewing herself a cup of tea instead as she slipped into her boots. She considered waking them up, she even went as far as leaning on her bedroom’s doorway, but finally decided against it. There were only short fragments of whatever they had said last night still roaming her mind, and there was no real reason they had to leave now. After tossing her phone and wallet into her bag, she scribbled a quick note and left it on the kitchen counter:
Left for work. Take whatever you want for breakfast. Have a nice day :)
Charlie didn’t have to turn around to know the bed was cold on the other side. It was an odd feeling, laced with some sort of melancholy they couldn’t place. Still, they didn’t know if it would have hurt more if she had stayed, or woken them up. Or worse, if they had woken up in her arms. Charlie knew in their heart the latter would have hurt the most, but they still wished - wanted even - to wake up next to her. Make coffee or tea as if nothing had happened the night before. Smile at each other over the breakfast table. But Charlie knew better than that, knew this was not how these nights went. They wandered out of bed, barefeet hitting the ground, wondering if they were going to find Amanda in the kitchen or not. Instead, their eyes fell on the note sitting on the counter. They sighed, not sure if it was relief or saddness, and got ready before the day began, making a coffee from what they were sure was Amanda’s soon-to-be tragically underused new coffee machine. They braided their hair anxiously as the smell of roasted coffee beans filled the kitchen, as if doing anything with their hands would be better than standing in Amanda’s house alone after last night. It didn’t take long before they grabbed one of their leftover to-go coffee cups out of her cupboard, put on an outfit from the one drawer dedicated to Charlie’s Things, and headed out the door, looking back in through the entryway one last time before latching the door closed behind them. // END
Facing away from them and towards her wardrobe, Amanda allowed herself to close her eyes again. There was something about not looking at someone that made it feel like they truly had all the privacy they needed. She felt Charlie shift on the bed and she contemplated moving back towards them and hugging them from behind. As a friend. Yet, her body was apparently against moving altogether and she also wasn’t entirely sure how to hold them any differently than all the previous times, so, instead, she remained in her place and heard them talk faintly over her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she hummed with a yawn, truthfully not understanding how much deeper Charlie’s statement had been than what she got. “I wanted the company, Charlie, it’s fine,” she reminded them, though her tone was certainly more annoyed now. She wasn’t quite sure why but this night needed to end already. She’d had enough humilliation to last her a lifetime. “I’m just tired,” she murmured, stressing, hopefully, the fact that they were there to sleep, and sleep only.
Charlie nodded, feeling their shoulders fall up and down a little bit in the silence. He almost wished that Amanda moved back towards him. Almost wished that the gap closed between them and Charlie could hold Amanda in their arms one last time, but neither moved. Charlie stayed put and he could feel Amanda was doing the same. They could feel the tension between them growing, could feel the sharp edge in Amanda’s tone, who was obviously more upset than she let on, but Charlie didn’t know what else to say - or do - to fix it. So they sat there, lied there, eyes open, waiting for Amanda to speak, until they fluttered shut automatically, hoping whatever happened between them in the late hours after lockdown would be cleared up in the morning.
Even though her eyes remained closed for the most part, her brows furrowed when Charlie began to explain what they’d meant. After the whirlwind that had been that night, she had foolishly thought the threat had been left behind when, really, it was waiting to kick her while she was down. And in her own bed, too. There truly were no boundaries to heartbreak. When she finally fought against her heavy eyelids and opened her eyes, it struck her that Charlie wasn’t looking back at her. Her lips parted to answer but they kept talking and all she knew as a reaction was precisely what they were complaining about. They were hurting, that much was obvious; it couldn’t be easy to say those things after a night like this one ( it wasn’t easy to hear them, either, but that was a whole different story ). In her mind, she thought we were always friends, but her tongue formulated other words – less hurtful, more amicable words. “Yeah,” her voice was low, her throat was sore and she didn’t know how to make this better without sleeping in different beds altogether. Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try. She hesitated but moved one hand up to brush her thumb over their cheek and wipe the new tears away. “Yeah,” she cleared her throat and scooted further away under the covers – maybe more distance between them would make it easier for them. “Yeah, okay,” she was at a loss for words – what was she supposed to say to that anyway? Ideas weren’t quite coming to her as quickly as she’d want them to in this situation so, instead, she rolled over to face away. Maybe giving them more privacy ( within the confines of her matress ) would be good.
Charlie’s breath caught as Amanda’s hand reached up to wipe the tear from off their cheek. They weren’t sure if the real truth behind their words had sunk in behind Amanda’s eyes, that they couldn’t do this because they couldn’t play this cat and mouse game of waiting anymore, but they could tell she still felt it, whatever it was she was feeling. The repetition was telltale enough that she was hurt too, and her physical distance felt like a knife to the back. They rolled onto their own for a second, pulling their ponytail out from underneath their back, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m really sorry, Ames. I didn’t - I didn’t plan on bringing this up tonight. I know it’s been a long day and...” they faltered on their words for a minute. Charlie looked over at the back of Amanda’s short blonde hair, facing away from them. “I can sleep on the couch if you need some space, just... let me know,” they whispered, before turning to face the other way, sliding their hand underneath their ear, waiting to see if Amanda would ask them to leave. “I just didn’t want you to be alone tonight.”
Tonight had been the epitome of a night full of surprises. They had escalated in size and importance, too – from the smallest realization that she didn’t hate coffee when she put enough milk in it, to seeing Vir actually behave himself for longer than usual, to being hurried into a room with Silas, to whatever this was now. Out of all the things that called her attention, the one she truly wouldn’t have imagined was happening now; still, her mind and judgement were too clouded for her to fully understand what Charlie meant. “You can’t…” she mumbled, eyes still closed as she waited for them to finish the thought they’d started. It was only then that she realized he had moved back slightly, which caused her to finally ( but slowly ) open her eyes and search for his. With a confused expression adorning her face, she parted her lips into a yawn and shifted in her place to lay her head comfortably on her pillow. “What can’t you do?” her tone was only so calm because she wasn’t processing what they were so obviously hinting.
Charlie felt like Amanda’s words reached into his chest, grasped at his heart, suffocating it. It was one thing to have to push her away, it was another to have to explain why. Charlie felt their eyes fall down, away from Amanda, as if to avoid the confrontation that Charlie was about to have. Tonight really wasn’t the night they wanted to have a conversation like this, but sometimes tragedy and anxiety brings out what’s bubbling under the surface. “I... this.... us.... whatever we are, I can’t... You’re hurting right now and you need someone, and I’m happy to be here for you... as a friend...” the words cut Charlie probably more than they cut Amanda. They knew that even if things were different between them, their lives - their parallel existences in two busy and bustling offices - made it hard for Amanda to settle down. Or at least, that was how it was before... and in between... and now. “I’m seeing someone, I think... Kind of. And I don’t know what we are yet, but I want to see... I love you so much, Ames... and I want to be here for you, always... but just... not like that,” they whispered, knowing full well if things were different they would be like that. The two of them. But that wasn’t the world they were living in. Finally, after finishing, they let their eyes trail up to Amanda’s eyes, wet with tears for the hundredth time tonight it felt.
