You and Charles understood each other. He seemed like the only person in this gang that saw you as a person, and he treated you as a friend, not like you were stupid.

You’d often sit together late at night around the fire, sharing stories and occasionally little acts and words of affection when you knew no one was watching. As you were waiting for him to join you he walked up behind you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Ride with me?” He asked simply.