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The more time he spent with Charlie, the more he realized how much he liked him.
It would come to him in small bits at first. They would laugh together at things he'd say, and for a small moment he would forget all about Brad. He liked the way Charlie smiled. His lips would quirk up in a lopsided way, and his eyes crinkled at the joke he'd said.
Charlie's company comforted him more than anything, and he would spend more and more time with him.
The highlight of his day would be picking up Charlie at night and driving to the park, or to the diner, or to wherever they went. It didn't matter as long as he was with Charlie.
Small things like touches became a comfort to him. On the outside he would smile like it was no big deal, but every time Charlie patted him on the shoulder and gave him a hug, he felt warm at the touch.
He felt like Charlie as a light that he, the moth, was drawn to. Charlie was like his new drug.
Soon, he began to subconsciously find ways to engage in more contact between the two of them - tickling each other, finding excuses to touch. In his mind, he passed it off as a source of comfort, for Charlie was his source of comfort after the storm.
It was only on a warm night when it really hit him.
They were in the park as usual, laughing about suburban legends and whatnot. He didn't miss the moment when Charlie's eyes crinkled at his legend, laughing in disbelief. It was so endearing to see Charlie like that, his delve into the high schooler's world. It was just a second, but it hit him how beautiful Charlie looked in that moment. It was then that he realized that he was utterly in love with Charlie.
He also realized that when people are in love, they tend not to think and instead do things on impulse.
He kissed Charlie.
The thoughts that went through his head were similar to
yes
oh god no stop
why why why why why
why
He felt lost. Wasn't he supposed to be torn up about Brad?
He was. He was torn up about Brad! Of course he was.
But maybe letting out all that steam, telling it all to Charlie, made him feel better.
Charlie made him feel better. But he couldn't, because Charlie wasn't like that, and he didn't like… No, no, he couldn't.
He was lost. His eyes squeezed shut as he held on to the only anchor he had left, sobbing and shaking in the night that was once warm, but now felt cold and empty.
And he knew that all Charlie could do was hold his hand and tell him that it'd be alright. And maybe that was enough.