Work Text:
The tension between me and Charlie was bad for weeks now. And honestly, it’s freaking me out. I don’t know what’s going on with him. I’m worried. Worried that he just closes himself off like he did when all the shit happened. Earlier, when I picked him up from school, I didn’t even get a ‘hey’ back. And then, at his house, Tori asked me if we fought. Because we were acting strange. I know what she means. I also know that it’s because of me. But I just don’t get what I did wrong. Did I say something wrong, I wonder. What could I possibly have said to piss him off? In my mind I go over the past weeks and the conversations we had. Maybe it was just because I wasn’t at Truham anymore, and he was. But no, that wouldn’t make sense. He wouldn’t be that pissed of with me if it was just that. Sure, he’d be pissed off by that but then the feelings would change, once we were together again. And he only seems to be pissed off with me, not with Tao or Elle or anyone else. Just me. And that all the time. But no, we didn’t fight or something like that. And then, suddenly I realise it. Maybe it’s because I’m going to university. Because we can’t go together, and he still has a year left before he could follow me to uni. But who am I if I take a gap year because of him. Besides, everyone always tells me to do something that’s good for me. That I shouldn’t base all my decisions on Charlie’s (or someone else’s) opinion. And I’m excited about uni. It feels so- I don’t know, grown up, if you know what I mean. But it’s gonna be great, I just know that. One thing I actually am a little scared of, is coming out. I mean, a lot of people will probably assume that I’m straight. Maybe I should just buy a bi pin or something. That everyone immediately sees that I’m bi.
I look at Charlie, wanting to ask him to go somewhere quieter to talk about all this when he speed-walks to the kitchen. It’s empty, besides the bottles and plastic cups full of alcoholic stuff. Charlie downs one vodka shot after another. I know how much of a lightweight he is and want to stop him. “Hey,” I say and touch his arm. After he finished pouring his vodka lemonade, he looks at me, taking a sip of his drink, kind of reminding me of Tori.
“Hm?,” he asks, and his blue eyes look in mine.
“You okay?,” I’m worried about you, Charlie. Can’t you see that? Talk to me.
“Yeah. Fine. Why?,” Charlie please tell me. I’m so so worried.
I shake my head before I say, “you just seem sort of on edge.” And that’s the most honest words I’ve said to him for a few days. Charlie always was someone I could openly talk to, but lately. Lately, it was hard. We barely managed to have those deep conversations, I love so much.
“Oh. Just.... a bit stressed because of revision.... just been in a bad mood today.” Okay, that sounded pretty honest. But on the other hand,.... Charlie was a fantastic liar. He always was, I thought, remembering the time when it was the worst with his anorexia. I used to be pretty good at picking up on his lies but lately.... lately, everything between has been sort of weird. Charlie smiles then and says, “Best Coast.” And as I’m giving him a confused look, he adds, “the music. It’s Best Coast.” I don’t know why but I just realise now that there was music playing in the background. “We should get drunk,” Charlie suggests which is a bad sign. Charlie usually just does it when his head is being mean to him. To give at least me a way out of this, I say,
“I’m driving.”
“Oh,” he simply replies.
“You get drunk,” I say because drunk Charlie might tell me what’s wrong.
“I plan to,” he says, throws his long curls back and chuckles. “I want a drunk hookup in the bathroom later,” he says and walks away, smiling. If he’d only tell me....
It’s almost eleven when I find him again. “You okay?,” I ask. I’m still worried of all the unspoken things in between us.
“I’m fine,” he snaps, what he hadn’t done for months now. “You don’t need to check on me every few seconds. I’m not a baby, Jesus Christ.” What the hell have I done wrong to deserve him being like that?
“Alright, no need to shout at me,” I say and turn around.
“I wasn’t shouting,” he says, and I walk away. It’s painful. He was. And I was, too. A little at least. It just makes me so angry that he doesn’t talk to me. We’re boyfriends after all.
“What’s up?,” I ask as I come to Charlie once again. He’s even more drunk than before.
“Are you gonna talk about uni again?,” he asks and looks at me. His cheeks are wet, like he.... like he cried.
“Huh?”
“It’s pissing me off so so much!”
“Pissing you off?,” he mumbles something inaudible and pulls me into kissing him, but I quickly discover that drunk kisses (and therefore also a make out) are just nice if both persons are drunk. I gently push him away. “No. You’re drunk.”
“Noooo, Niiiick,” he leans forward but I lean back again.
“You’re acting weird. Let's go upstairs,” I pull him up and he holds on tight to my arm.
Upstairs, I sit him down in an armchair. “What’s up, Charlie?” He doesn’t react, so I try it again, “Char? Why are you being like this?”
“What am I acting like?”
“One minute you’re pissed off with me and the next, everything’s fine.” He bends over but doesn’t say anything. “Why are you being such a dick?,” I try it once again. He still doesn’t react. “How can you be angry at me if you don’t even talk to me?”
“Stop shouting at me,” he mumbles.
“I wasn’t shouting,” I say.
“Yes, you were,” he replies dryly and then we’re sitting here in silence. A loud thunder makes him jump, then he quietly says, “you can break up with me if you want to.”
“What?,” where the hell is that coming from?
“I said you can break up with me if you want. Fresh start at uni and that.”
“And therefore, we have to break up or what? Charlie, no. I love you. More than anything. Even more than Nellie and Henry.”
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”
“I do, Charlie. I do.”
“Yeah, but, like, don’t you want that uni experience with parties and meaningless hookups?”
“No. If that’s what you’re so freaked out about. The cheating thing, we could just get married.”
“What?” “I said. We. Could. Get. Married. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Are you serious?”
“If you want to,” I reply. I didn't plan to propose to Charlie like that one day. I thought about it since we were in Paris. My dream proposals were like, taking Charlie out on a date (i. e. on the beach or the arcade) but not now. More like, in five years or something. He doesn't answer. “Do you not want to?,” I ask. “It's okay if you don't. If you think it's too early. If you don't want to, like, ever. But I know I'd want that.” His gaze changed. Just a little, but I can see that he's surprised. Maybe wonderstruck would be the right word. But even that one feels too little to describe it.
“I-I do. I just didn't think you would want that. And I'm only seventeen after all.”
“So? Who said we can't get engaged now? You could've asked me at the beach and I would've said yes.”
“Oh god, you're such a simp.”
“I am. But I'm your simp. And your fiancé if you want that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, yes. Yes, I want you to be my fiancé. And I want to be yours,” he's gone quiet for a second before he mumbles, “oh my god. Oh. My. God. I just got engaged.” I smile a little. It's cute. I hope he's gonna remember that in the morning after the hangover. If not, I think I've got to propose again. And then with a ring.
“I would've married you with paper rings,” he mumbles.
“And you call me a simp and an obsessive swiftie.” He throws his head back and laughs his Charlie laugh. The one with his dimples coming out.
“Let's go home and get me sober,” he says. Then blushes as he adds, “because I have to show my fiancé how much I love him” And I don't know how but I like the word fiancé even more out of his mouth than boyfriend. Though I never thought there'd be a day I'd think of boyfriend only a little less than anything else.
“Then let's go,” I say and stand up, helping him to get up. “Want a piggyback ride to the car?,” I ask. He nods. And so I do. As we walk out of the room, we see Tao standing there.
“You're crazy. Completely and utterly crazy.” Charlie and I just laugh. Maybe we are. Okay, not maybe. We are crazy. God, why are we like this?