“I was planning to come inside and help you, I even brought you a change of clothes!”

As Charlie settles into the passenger side, I gesture towards the back seat of my car, where I’ve neatly folded one of his flannel shirts and a pair of jeans. I’d called his phone upon arriving to the hospital, thinking that I would park and accompany Charlie as he left. Instead, he emerged from the glass doors as soon as he answered my call, smiling and waving as my car approached.

“That was nice of you, but you didn’t need to do that. And I didn’t need any help, I’m all good to go.”

He buckles his seatbelt and smiles at me. I see that he is once again wearing the oddly fitting black shirt that I still suspect to be Mark’s, and his jeans from yesterday.

I lean over to kiss him, thankful that he is in my car, safe, and coming home with me. Seconds after our lips meet, I feel my car beginning to move.

“Woah, Stella, brakes!” Charlie pulls away from me quickly and looks down towards my foot, which I’ve involuntarily removed from the brake petal.

“Sorry,” I regain my control. “I forgot I didn’t have it in park.”

My cheeks redden as I look back to Charlie with a small, innocent smile.

He laughs, “How did you even make it through last night alone?”

With a humored shake of his head, he remembers, “I guess you had Casey and Mason, huh? Are they still at the house? I’m sorry for calling you so early, by the way. I just didn’t want to stay any longer, and I missed you.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been up for a while. I woke up earlier than I’d planned, so I made them breakfast. Mason was about to take a shower when I left, but Casey said that they would probably be gone by the time we’re back – he has school, and she is going back to their house to repack before going to her sister’s house. She said that Mark still has your keys, and is bringing your car over, too.”

Charlie just nods, frowning towards the road ahead of us as I pull out from the hospital parking lot.

“You made them breakfast?”

He suddenly recalls the small, evidently amusing detail and turns towards me with a smirk.

“I did,” I assert, “I’m not as much of invalid as you seem to think I am.”

He huffs a laugh, and turns back towards the front windshield. There is silence, and I wonder if he is wordlessly boasting that I won’t be cooking for him in the near future. I almost consider defending myself against my own assumption of his thoughts by noting that they both complimented my breakfast, but I decide to move on to something more important, instead.

“So what exactly happened last night? It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it; but Casey only told me a very short version of what happened.”

Mostly because I wouldn’t stop crying long enough to get more than a synopsis.

“It was bad –“ Charlie starts and pauses. I glance over to see him pursing his lips and squinting towards the passenger side window before continuing.

“I mean, when I got there, Mark was on the ground, against the wall. One of the men stood over him, guarding him while the others were searching the house, trying to find compensation. Mason was there. He was hiding with his mom, but still, I hate that he’s been through something like this twice. He’s just a kid. Casey –I know she tried to help him, to keep the men from beating him. She put herself in danger. But everything is fine now. They’ll go to prison. None of us were hurt. As long as Mark doesn’t decide to put everyone through this shit again –“

“Did you really just say ‘none of us were hurt?’” I raise my brows, but stay facing forward.

“You know what I mean. None of us were hurt badly. I’m fine.”

Charlie changes the subject before I can reply, and soon, we are pulling into his driveway. The garage door is open, and Charlie’s mustang is parked in its usual spot. Beside the car, Mark stands with his hands in his pockets, looking tired and uncomfortable.

Just before we both exit the car, Charlie speaks quietly to me, “I bet he was hoping to catch Casey here.”

I collect Charlie’s clothes from the back of my car as he approaches Mark, who walks from beside the mustang to its tail end and greets him.

“You feeling okay this morning?” Mark asks as he shifts on his feet.

“Yeah, I feel totally fine now,” Charlie says decidedly, turning to look at me as I lock my car and walk towards him. He wraps his arm around my waist when I’m near enough.

Mark gives me a nod and a meek smile, which I return. I feel as if he assumes I don’t like him now, but I do have sympathy for him. He is irresponsible, sure, but I know that he cares about Charlie, and wouldn’t have wanted him hurt.

“Do you want to come inside for a while?” Charlie invites.

“No – I’d better get back home. I have someone coming to fix the glass that was busted last night, and to change the locks, for safe measure.”

Charlie nods, and there is an uncomfortable pause.

“I think I’m going to go on in. I’m chilly,” I cross my arms in front of my stomach, to make my reason for exit believable. “It’s nice to see you, Mark.”

“You too, sweetheart,” His voice is friendly, but he doesn’t try to muster a smile.

Charlie’s hand attempts to follow my back as I start towards the kitchen door, but he cannot reach me for long.

After greeting Cooper, informing him enthusiastically that Charlie is home, I walk the clean, folded clothes back to the closet. Though it had only been an excuse, I do feel quite cold. I decide to change my shirt and pair my black leggings with one of Charlie’s charcoal sweaters. It feels an unflawed sort of soft and comfortable, and the feeling simply isn’t conducive to productivity. I find that, upon emerging from the bathroom, I immediately and almost involuntarily find my way back onto the cleanly made bed.

Since Charlie is talking with Mark, I take the chance to call my mom, who is out Christmas shopping. I ask about her day, and decide to delay telling her about the events of last night. Instead, I inform her that Charlie will be coming home with me on Wednesday.

She squeals and asks if she should buy him a gift for Christmas, or if he even celebrates Christmas, anyhow, because she wouldn’t want to be offensive. Then, she starts to ask about his clothing choices, mentioning that she’d seen a cool, wool sweater at one of her favorite boutiques in town.

“You don’t have to buy him anything, mom. He will probably be with his family on the actual holiday, anyhow.”

“What are you going to get him? You need to get him something,”

“Um –“ I hadn’t even considered what to buy Charlie. “I’m not sure yet. You can help me pick something out when I’m home,” I say, much to her delight.

“Stella?” I hear Charlie call my name as soon as he enters the house.

I pull my phone away and answer that I am in the bedroom.

“Can I call you back later? Have fun shopping. I love you.”

My mom reciprocates the goodbye, and Charlie enters the room as I hang up.

“Who was that?” He asks, pacing over to his side of the bed. Cooper is at his heels, visibly excited to have him home.

“Just my mom. She is excited to have you. You still want to come home with me, right? Even if we won’t be going to New York, you’re still welcome to stay at my house for a while…”

“What do you mean not going? A cautionary trip to the hospital won’t keep me from boxing, Stella. This is a big fight for me. My promoters are counting on me to be there,” He smiles as he settles onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms.

I wear wool socks on my feet, having removed my boots before crawling onto the bed, of course, but my feet still feel cold. I shift so that I can lean into Charlie’s chest, and tuck my feet between his knees for warmth.

“You honestly think you’ll be okay to box?”

“Of course I will be. I promise, this is just a scratch.”

Charlie squeezes me tighter, closer, as he speaks. I still haven’t actually seen his wound, and I’m afraid to ask. I’ll have to see it eventually, but I suppose I would much rather pretend that his downplay is fact for as long as possible.

“You don’t mind that I’m wearing your sweater, do you?”

“Of course not. It looks perfect on you,” Charlie says, kissing the top of my head. “I need to change, too. I think I’ll take a shower as well.”

He runs his hand down my leg, squeezing my knee as I pull my feet away. As he makes his way into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, it becomes further obvious that he is less prepared than I am for me to see the seriousness of his injury.

Charlie does not emerge from the bathroom until he is fully dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans – the same outfit that I’d brought him to the hospital – and I have already relocated to the living room. I sit on the couch with my knees curled beneath me, and my philosophy book in my lap.

“Do you have any medications that you’re supposed to be taking?” I ask, looking between him and my book.

“They gave pain killers to take until Sunday, but I don’t think I’ll need them. They’ll make me drowsy, and I think aspirin will be enough.”

Charlie seems to wait for my protest as he speaks, standing feet in front of the couch without moving to sit near me. I simply nod.

I wouldn’t be so agreeable if I didn’t see him fighting a war in his mind over whether or not to accept help.

“It is the weekend, though. It wouldn’t be a bad time to just relax and recuperate,” I say casually, looking back down towards my book.

Charlie doesn’t respond to my comment – he silently walks over to the couch and sits beside me, – but I do hope that he is considering the idea.

“My mom is excited about you coming home with me,” I say as I close my book and lay it in front of me, on the coffee table.

“Is she? You’re sure it isn’t an imposition to them?”

“Not now. I’ll let you know how they feel once they actually meet you,” I smirk at him. “I don’t think you could ever be an imposter. You get along with everyone.”

He smiles shyly and reaches forward for the television remote.

“You must be starving. Do you want me to make you something?” I ask without hesitation, without even considering or thinking about how bothered he becomes when I try to reciprocate the simple things that he does for me.

“I can still make myself food, Stella,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking sideways towards me.

I laugh a little at his defense, “Alright then. I just thought I would offer.”

During my break from reading, Charlie and I watch the last hour of The Holiday, which we’re both fans of, and I make certain that he’s spoken to his aunt and uncle since last night. We eat sandwiches and chips talk about what we might do this weekend, and around three, he decides to take Cooper for a walk – or run, rather. I stay in of course, and study a bit more. As I’m finishing up a philosophy chapter, my phone buzzes with a text from Allie, asking if Charlie and I want to meet them out tonight.

Part of me wants to automatically say no and not give Charlie the option of braving through the pain that I expect he has for a night out. I know Allie won’t be in Clemson for long though, and Charlie didn’t seem keen on staying in tonight anyhow. I tell her that he is out, but I will call as soon as I speak to him, and go back to studying until he and Cooper finally enter through the front door.

Charlie is breathing heavily, sniffling through his reddened nose as he wipes his shoes on the mat in front of the door. Cooper skips ahead into the house, leashless. The two go on runs together so frequently that anything more than his collar is unnecessary.

“Hey,” I smile as he rounds the couch, “How was your run?”

When he sits down and drapes his heavy arm over my shoulders, the coldness of the day radiates from his body and clothes – and it’s the first time that I can remember being warmer than him.

“It was relaxing,” he breathes, kicking off his shoes.

“Interesting word choice for a run,” I reply, “Allie texted while you were out. She wanted to know if we wanted to meet her and Ben out at a bar tonight. I totally understand if you’re not up for it,”

“Yeah, that sounds fun. Why wouldn’t I be up for it?”

“I thought you might say that,” I huff.

He ignores me and asks about the time and place. When I give him the name of the bar, he says that he’s been there many times, and that we’ll have fun.

“I’ll call Allie then and let her know we’re coming. We should go ahead and eat dinner now then, if we’re going out. Does lasagna sound good to you? That sounds really good to me.”

“Um – I’ve never made that before. I can try though.”

“No, I’ll make it. I can run to the store now and –“

“I know what you’re doing,” Charlie interrupts with a smile, but I know he is probably legitimately irritated at my persistence.

“If you want to be stubborn, you can make your own dinner, Charlie. I’m going to make myself lasagna though.”

I stand up from the couch and walk towards the bedroom to collect my bad and put my book away. I hear Charlie sigh, and his footsteps follow close behind me.

“Stella, I don’t like for you to – I mean,” while he struggles for words, I sort and gather my belongings, “I don’t like feeling…”

“I know, Charlie,” I say finally, standing and turning to face him, “It’s okay though. It’s okay for me to do things for you. I know that we both like doing things our own way, but for us to contribute equally to one another – that isn’t a bad convention. Besides, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he pouts, his deep voice quiet as he walks into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” I question.

“I’m changing out of these workout clothes. I want to come with you.”

“Are you going to let me cook more now that I’ve proved myself worthy?” I ask Charlie as he backs out of his driveway.

“Probably not,” he smirks, “Unless you’d like to. I don’t mean to be unnecessarily difficult,” he adds.

“I know you don’t. I don’t mean to offend you when I make offers, either. Are you sure I’m not underdressed?” I ask, looking down at my dark jeans and flowy, silver gray blouse.

“Definitely not,” he says, “this is just a dive that we’re going to.”

I smooth the fabric of my top out, relieved at the reaffirmation.

“What did Mark say earlier, by the way? I didn’t ask,”

“Well, he still hasn’t gambled. He doesn’t think that he needs any kind of professional help. Maybe he doesn’t, but I’m not sure if Casey will forgive him until he agrees to go through some kind of counseling. He is worried about Mason, of course. I’ve given him my advice, it’s between the three of them now,” he huffs a smile.

“I’d say you’ve done your part in helping.”

Before we arrive to the bar, I notice Charlie shift and wince twice in the driver’s seat.

“Are you planning on drinking anything? I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, but if you decide that you want to take pain medicine later…”

“I would never drink much when I’m driving you, but I don’t think I’ll need any medicine,” He says shortly.

I sigh as I unbuckle my seatbelt. I look down at my phone – Allie has texted, saying that she and Ben have already arrived. When I look up, I notice Charlie rubbing at his side in the dark of the car.

“Charlie? Are you sure you feel okay?”

“Yes, baby. Stop worrying,” he smiles, grabbing my hand and kissing the upside of my palm.

I wish I could.

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I apologize for any errors! I'm updating now, and I'll finish editing later. So professional. Comment, if you'd like! I heart feedback.