notenoughdrinks:
“I’m just– Being in the car–” A raspy groan, he played with the window switch, moving the pane of glass up and down sporadically. Cars are scary enough, and your driving isn’t helping. He wanted to say that, but just shook his head.
“I’m not sick, though, so don’t worry.”
Leaving the window half-down, Charlie continued his nervous behaviors, including but not limited to; Bouncing, shifting, playing with his beard, staring at the back of Dee’s head, etc.
“Are we there yet?” An idiot question, one that he almost slapped himself for, but he was getting really worried. Very, worried.
✨🔪✨ – he’s not vomiting in her car -- and thereby ruining yet another of her vehicles -- so she can use the remaining mental energy to worry about him instead. Dee’s heart is cold, shriveled, and hidden securely behind a veritable labyrinth of emotional barriers -- but it still beats, and part of it is very fond of the degenerates she calls her friends. Charlie, in particular, reserves a particular fondness that makes her feel...warm...in a new and utterly terrifying way.
but only when she really thinks about it.
she hates having room to think.
Dee parks the car on her block with far more care than she’d used hurtling it through the city. “yep!” she announces flippantly, turning about in her seat to scrutinize him again. “since when do you get car sick?”
but before he can answer she’s out of the car, tossing open the passenger door for him. “you’re being weirder than usual. I’m kinda glad I got you outta that shithole you call an apartment...even if you did force my hand.”
