the night felt heavier than most, though the town itself was quiet—just a stretch of empty streets and the hum of a distant car that never seemed to get closer. the air carried that dry, restless stillness that only came after too many hot days in a row, when even the shadows felt worn out. you’d told yourself you weren’t going to show up here again, but habit had a way of dragging you back. every turn you took seemed to guide your steps here like it wasn’t even your choice.

his house sat still against the glow of the streetlamp, blinds drawn, the kind of place that held secrets tight between its walls. the paint was chipped along the edges of the porch, the fence leaning slightly, but it was the kind of imperfect that felt lived in, familiar.

charlie leaned against the fence like he’d been waiting all along, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, his outline sharp against the dull yellow light. his expression was unreadable in the half-light, eyes catching yours only for a second before flicking away, like he didn’t want to give too much. there was no greeting, no easy smile to break the air between you. only that steady presence, sharp and restless, like he was daring you to say what you really meant instead of what you always said.

you shifted, stuffing your hands into your pockets, pretending the movement was casual. the gravel under your shoes cracked too loud in the silence. your chest felt too full, your thoughts pressing against your ribs like they wanted out but refused to form into words. the space between you carried everything unsaid—anger, maybe, or hurt, but also something softer that clung stubbornly, something that hadn’t left no matter how hard you’d tried to bury it.

his jaw tightened as he looked back at you, as if weighing whether to speak at all. finally, his voice broke the stillness, low and rough at the edges.

“couldn’t stay away, huh?” he said, not mocking but not gentle either. it wasn’t an accusation, more like an admission—one he didn’t want to give voice to himself.

and there you were again, back where you swore you wouldn’t be, standing in the weight of everything you couldn’t forget, with only the night around you to hold the pieces neither of you could name.