The Other Woman |Charlie Barber x Reader|

~Fly Me To The Moon~

It feels strangely satisfying to be at an airport with Charlie Barber while currently not being at each other's throats. He had been so adamant about buying your ticket for you, that he had just gone ahead and done it without another word. About 3 hours before the flight was set to take off, he'd showed up to your cousin's house to pick you up. The perfect gentleman; introducing himself, helping with your bags, opening the door for you.

Even at the airport, he insisted upon towing your luggage behind him while he was trying to juggle his own. Eventually—after watching him struggle and giggling about it—you offered to take your own despite his protests.

Something about your past experience at the airport must have been motivating him to try more; to do better. He'd insisted on buying you a coffee, carried your bag once you got past the TA, and surrendered his seat so that you could charge your phone. Despite every protest you threw at him, he refused to listen. Something inside of that man must have certainly clicked.

As he paces to and fro between the seats--he was on the phone with Henry, who'd woken up early because of a nightmare--you can't help but wonder what had motivated him to be so... hands-on today. Solemnly, you think back to Nicole calling him selfish. Accusing him of only ever thinking of himself, no matter the situation. It was as though he was trying to prove himself to you.

Frowning slightly, you swirl the lukewarm coffee around the cup, feeling the weight of the contents shift with every tilt. The airport hums with steady chatter as groups of people arrive and depart in clumps. It is not uncomfortably busy; just enough to sustain that energetic atmosphere.

Children dart between the seats, laughing and screaming, buzzing with too much energy for their exhausted parents. Their small feet thud against the solid carpet printed with bland gray, shooting past Charlie as his eyes follow them instinctively. You could see the wheels turning behind those brown eyes of his; assessing the floor for anything that could come of harm to them. That was something you would always admire about him. His instinct.

You turn your attention to the great panes of glass lining the terminal. The windows offer a view of the runway and the waving of heat and fumes hovering just above the hot pavement striped with yellow and white. Jet engines rumble for takeoff, but your plane remains silent as it waits patiently for the crew to finish inspecting it. Airports did not bother you, but the waiting could get tedious at times, especially here.

A heavy sigh captures your focus, tearing it away from a plane that was rapidly making its ascent. Charlie seats himself beside you, causing the flimsy leather of the chair to groan slightly beneath his massive frame. He tucks his phone into his pocket, lifting his hips to adjust himself as he tugs at the hem of his sweater.

"What was it?" You ask, amused at his exhaustion.

He shakes his head, cracking a faint smile. "He had a nightmare about school."

You laugh a little, "he's too young to be worrying about that now. It'll all come with time."

"I couldn't tell him that." Charlie nudges you, grinning. "He'll figure it out when middle school hits."

"I would have liked to see you in middle school."

"No. I was getting tall and I didn't know what to do with my body. My hair was too short for my ears." He frowns. "I don't think you were even alive when I was in middle school."

No, you weren't, but telling him that would only discourage him more. You knew he was self conscious about his age sometimes, especially the age difference between the two of you. You could insist that it didn't bother you all you wanted, but it was truly useless.