ghost light.

quick changes.

It was simple to say the remainder of the ride had been full of silence—that was all that kept you company as the gargoyle of a man remained in his place beside you, guarding whatever it so may be that had been endangered by your earlier conversation. Charlie's cold shoulder filled you with an insurmountable influx of guilt, holding you against the brink of confliction. Your thoughts were split between wanting to patch up the situation—fully accounting for the fact that you were clueless as to what you had said wrong—and remaining silent as not to inflict further damage.

With just the sweetest bit of time left on the trek, you distracted yourself just as he had done prior. Hoping to find solace or some resolution to what had been, you attempted to breathe in your surroundings. With a steady breath and release of tension, you shifted your focus to that of your current environment.

Idle chatter from a couple behind you. The gentle shake of the car as you sat still, body fit to the curve of the seating. The tinge of green illuminating the whole of the space, spread and emitted by the aged incandescent light fixtures. The tracks clicking with each second passing by, imitating that of a countdown, ticking away as you neared the end of the journey.

Not too much after the fact, the car had stopped with a slight jolt, making the pens you'd been fidgeting with earlier evidently fall from your bag and onto the floor of the car. You leaned forward, thankful for the slight space in between seating, while holding your bag with one hand and grasping for the pens with the other. With all successfully recovered and returned to their rightful place, you clasped your bag, making sure the same weren't to occur again, and stood.

Collision. Coffee. Carelessness.

As you turned, you inadvertently crashed into Charlie, cup of coffee in hand, scowl on his face. Charlie had apparently stood as you had addressed your pen situation, and caught you off guard as you turned towards him. The flimsy cup had been crushed between the two of you, lid popped off, sides concave from impact. The coffee inside had made its way onto both your coats and attire, staining his white button up and leaving a trail of evidence down to the floor.

"Shit." Charlie let out a frustrated huff, looking down to assess the damage done, arms wide and lifted as he tried to shift around his coat. His shoulders shifted back with his chest broad as he rubbed his temple before sighing, anger evident in his expression.

Cause and effect, chain reaction.

As if you couldn't embarrass yourself enough, your initial reaction had been to reach out to him and attempt to wipe the coffee away—no napkins, the spill already fully seeped into his white button up. As if on autopilot, you pulled your sleeve to cover your palm, grasping the edge and holding it still by just your fingers. You didn't deign to look up at him, too perpetually embarrassed by what had just occurred, your mind too flooded with anxious thoughts to process your actions as they had so happened. Reflexively, you muttered a plethora of "Sorry"s, those escaping before your mind could catch up, frantic and drenched with concern.

A slight pressure around your wrist had torn your attention away. Looking up ever so slightly, still near hanging your head in shame, your eyes made their way to the source of it. Charlie had his hand around your wrist, fully encompassing it with ease. His grasp was firm but gentle, enough to know it was there but not enough to hurt in any way. Your breath caught in your chest as you glanced up at him, met by a stern look from Charlie as he pushed your hand away from its preoccupation.

He wasn't mad at you. You didn't think he was, at least not fully, and this was just confirmation. Had he been fully overtaken by his discontent and frustrations, he wouldn't have tolerated you for this long and he wouldn't have put this much consideration into ease. He simply would keep you out, keep you cold but despite how impersonal this may seem, he was putting forward some of the effort—a fraction of what he would have prior but still a hint nonetheless. He was also the first to break the deafening silence between the two of you.