ghost light.

americanos & cinnamon rolls.

The city lights flickered and danced through the cab windows, illuminating the peaks of the predominant features belonging to the man seated next to you. You glanced up at him, catching a small smile in return, studying him in the moment.

Charlie was at peace, free from the environment that no doubt only added to the otherwise overbearing weight on his shoulders. He looked so simple, so normal. Gone were the intimidating vibes and tense set jaw, what remained was human in all his simplicity, the image of a man trying to prove himself in a world that was constantly asking for more.

It was an odd thing, sitting in the back of a cab with a man you'd just met tonight, inexplicably agreeing to a quest taking you around the city with him, seeking coffee. You indulged him, positively captivated by this enigma of a man, and of course the fact that you were hungry from the social escapades of tonight didn't help your case. The idea of it all plagued your thoughts. The idea that someone—a stranger you'd only met by chance, coincidence even— undeniably captivated your curiosity, leaving you feeling at ease in his presence, bringing you to the edge of feeling what you thought was true comfort—almost. Charlie had worked his charm on you—something you thought near impossible for anyone to achieve before tonight—but what naturally shocked you most was your general content and anticipation for the situation.

He'd since turned away from you, glancing out the window, a form of pensive daze. The highlights from the liveliness outside had shifted to a soft glow, around his silhouette as the shadows overtook him, his elbow resting on the door and chin held by the palm of his hand. His mind was miles away, almost as if he was trying to distract himself from something—someone? That, you weren't sure.

It was the subtle distancing he'd been unknowingly enforcing, your own curiosity peaking with his lack of detail in destination, "So where are we going? You seem to have a particular destination in mind." You'd assumed this, the only clue to your query was the fact that he'd spoken to the driver as you'd departed from the bar.

He shifted slightly, pulling his attention from whatever he'd been studying outside and turning to focus on you, leg resting against your own in doing so, "Coffee." He said it plain and simply, almost as if you were to infer the remaining details.

You gave a soft, encouraging smile before nudging his arm slightly, "Well yeah, but I mean as in where exactly?"

Charlie chuckled, amused by your bordering insistent remarks, "Are you not fond of surprises?"

A moment of consideration passed, "I don't like possibly sharing the backseat of a cab with a potential serial killer on his way to murder me, is all."

"That's what you're worried about?" The start of a smirk formed at the edge of his lips, fingers tapping against the door as he spoke. He was contemplating something, you could see it in the expression he wore, the gears in his head like a well-oiled machine.

You crossed your legs, leaning towards him as you rested your hands on the purse in your lap, attempting to gain an edge in the conversation while you still could, "I don't hear you denying it."

A small hum of consideration passed from him, "Is this how you treat all people who pay for your cab fare?"

You gave an exaggerated gasp and brought your hand to rest against your chest as you tried to lighten the mood, offering some reassurance to him, "Woah, okay slow down there, sir. First off, it's half of the cab fare, and second, no... but I still don't hear you denying the fact that you might be out to murder me. I would like to notify the proper authorities of my whereabouts before you plot my evident demise, please."