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Charlie had slept on the couch that night.
Her back was aching, the pillows were too rough, the blanket fell too short. She kept tossing and turning, stretching and shrinking, straining her ears to hear footsteps, water… anything.
But it was silent. The kind of silence that stole into the corners of her mind, festering and building into thoughts she wanted to strangle.
By the time the sun started peeking up past the horizon and into the windows, she was spent. Tired and guilty, she drags her feet back to the shared bedroom, careful to maintain the thick silence shielding El from her restless form.
She sits on the edge of the mattress for a while, too scared to touch anything, to ruin the fragile sense of peace she is sure her partner had just obtained.
Eventually, she settles at the corner of the mattress, curled into herself and clutching the thin strands of fabric that form from the old blanket’s frayed ends. She is scared. Scared to leave her mark on anything that is theirs, that is shared between them.
And so she falls into a fitful sleep, one that can never be as deep as it should without the comforting weight of the body pressed against her side.
But she takes what she can get.
When she dips back into consciousness next, she isn’t positioned where she remembers. Instead of teetering at the edge of the bedframe, she now lays securely in the center, the mattress itself dipping down to accommodate her weight.
She would’ve assumed it being due to her twisting and turning, if not for the warmth of a blanket fastened around her shoulders, one that smells like pine and smoke and soap. Something so distinctly El.
She is far too hazy to register it yet. But even then, she feels a paper like object dig into her cheek.
A note.
’at least have the sense not to fall, dipshit’
She recognizes that messy scrawled writing, the way the e’s fall short of the a’s and the t’s look like l’s
And though it isn’t signed, she can’t help but feel like it doesn’t need to be.
————————————————————————————————————-
When she drags herself out of bed, Charlie is lethargic, every bone in her body feels like jelly. Her hair sticks up every which way, brunette strands splayed across her face.
Her sudden consciousness a few hours before feels like a fever dream, one shrouded in haze and sleepy, melting affections. One that makes her eyes sting and her chest heavy, the way it does, even now, as she looks down at the frayed note resting at her bedside.
She picks at its torn edges, at the ink smudged on the corner of the page, her finger tracing mindlessly at the misshapen letter h in the word ‘dipshit’, and then her eyes fall back towards the bland stucco walls.
Her breath hitches, her lip trembles. Not quite a laugh but neither a sob.
She reads the words once more.
’at least have the sense not to fall’
Though her finger covers it, she knows what the last word is—
’dipshit’
The word itself has so many tones attached to it.
Did El mean it as a joke? Was it an insult?
She doesn’t know.
And as she trudges through to the kitchen, she still doesn’t.
Her feet hit the cold tiled floor as she finally gets off of the bed, the door creaking open as she makes her hesitant descent downstairs. The house is still enveloped in silence, lighter than before but thick all the same. The light barely passes through the windows, dappling onto the ceiling, the walls, the plants and the pictures.
El might’ve left for campus early. A part of Charlie hopes she has.
Her feet lead her to the kitchen, a path she knows well, and her heart aches and swells at what she sees.
El is standing there, her hair mussed with sleep, her oversized band shirt covering her to her knees. She looks warm. Warmer. And Charlie can barely register the thought that she wanted to be closer to that warmth before her feet are moving, her body pressing into El’s back.
She feels the girl stiffen, and for a moment she’s scared… she’s scared that the former will pull away.
But then her hand meets the warmth of El’s own, and she feels like she’s going to sob.
“I didn’t mean it”
There is no response, only the subtle shifting of steaming coffee in her direction…
“It’s not grainy”
She hears El mutter before she leaves.
And suddenly the warmth she just had slipped away again.
———————————————————————————————————-
When Charlie sees her next, it’s midday, the sun has settled itself partway down the sky, casting a soft light over everything near— a warmth that reaches everything but her.
El is sitting on the couch, feet splayed lazily, socks mismatched, hair falling over her face, eyes tracking somewhere distant that Charlie cannot seem to follow.
Her legs tremble, and the tray in her hands finds itself shaking too as she walks over, carefully:
“…hey… El?”
Her voice is quiet, raw and rough from the day of silence, and she watches as the awareness in those emerald eyes slowly returns.
Though there isn’t a response, she watches as El straightens, almost in vigilance.
“I… I uh… bought this for you… you haven’t eaten… so, uh…”
There’s a brief silence, but no response… and maybe that’s fair.
Charlie’s eyes meet the ground, the wooden tiling that matches the tones of El’s sun kissed complexion, it’s never been this interesting in her life.
Slowly, she places the tray on the table, flinching as the wood scrapes against its counterpart.
She doesn’t speak for a while, just watches the steam billow from the tea and the flecks of green mingle with red in the pasta sauce.
When El makes no move towards it, she takes a shaky breath
“I… you don’t need to eat it or anything… I just… I just… thought you might like it”
She swallows.
“I wanted you to have something.. that’s all…”
————————————————————————————————————
It had been a few days since they last spoke, and Charlie was beginning to reconcile with the idea that she may never talk to El again.
Every step she took felt like a ticking time bomb, like at any moment an alarm would go off and fire would scorch the peace, the fragile, fleeting peace she had just gotten used to.
She still made El tea in the morning, still folded her laundry and made her favorite meals, though she couldn’t eat them herself. She still kept the windows open the way that she liked them.
Through all of that, El had been staying later at campus. She left earlier too. And Charlie spent many nights wallowing by herself.
The one time that they stay remotely close, is in bed, and even then they lay at separate corners of the mattress.
This morning, Charlie stands at the kitchen, making some eggs and bacon, the pan sizzling and bubbling.
The smell wafts through the house, a momentary comfort.
She can hear footsteps descending down the stairs, and tears spring to her eyes, she wipes at them with a hand, keeping her expression neutral.
“Morning”
She mutters, not expecting a response.
Something must’ve shifted today. That’s her only explanation, because suddenly El’s arms are around her torso and her shoulders are shaking.
Charlie freezes, her breath hitching
“El?”
She whispers, softly.
A part of her registers the burning smell of meat, but she’s just so surprised, she can’t find it in herself to move.
She pauses
“Hey… El? What happened?”
She finds herself sliding to the ground, cradling the girl in her arms, feeling tears soak her shirt.
And then hearing El’s hoarse voice, that beautiful voice, rendered raw from days without use.
“I.. I just… I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…”
Charlie feels her heart drop
“Can’t do what anymore, love?”
“Pretend like I don’t see what you’re doing, I just can’t—“
Charlie can’t stand to hear the blame put on the former. She puts a finger to El’s lips.
“Shh…”
She cradles her closer, if that’s even possible.
“You didn’t have to notice, you don’t have to worry, I do this because I love you, because I’m sorry.”
————————————————————————————————————-
The day had gone by in a limbo
The silence wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either, it didn’t steal into her mind like it did the days before, it held no dominion over her thoughts, her feelings, but that didn’t mean it was easy to endure.
By the time the sun sets, she’s emotionally drained, tired out.
And so when she finds El welcoming her into bed, she doesn’t think twice about it.
The sudden closeness, the warm, melting touch makes her groan softly in relief.
It soothes her aches, balms her hurt.
And El’s voice coupled with it makes her slacken.
“I missed you, you know?”
The words make her think, stop for a second, because.. all this time she thought El wanted her to go away, and she missed her?
“I didn’t know how to ask you… I thought you might explode again. I thought you wanted space.”
Charlie doesn’t respond right away. Her hand finds El’s beneath the sheets, fingers weaving clumsily together like they’ve forgotten how to hold. She feels the warmth, the pulse. And suddenly it’s easier to breathe.
And she just finds herself exploring. Exploring the expanse of El’s back, the way her body dips and curves. It’s a soothing experience.
“I did want it. Just not like this.”
She can’t help the smile that comes to her face when El laughs at this. It isn’t a boisterous laugh by any means, but it’s strong enough to make her want to laugh too
“Oh yeah, you didn’t want the silence that let you touch me like this. I sense a lie.”
There’s a pause
“You know, there are different ways to ask for what you want”
The teasing, and the suggestive tone behind it makes Charlie flush.
“…if I do, you better make it worth my while”
She whispers, her voice hoarse with swirling feelings.
“I will. Trust me.”
When she lays back down, tired and sated and spent, in the safe embrace of El’s arms, Charlie is sure that this is the best night of her life.
Because despite the fact that it was weak. Despite the fact that it would take ages to get used to again, the sound was back.
El hadn’t left.
And she was still holding her.
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