Charlie sauntered into the kitchen after you, his red solo cup still dangling from his fingertips and the vibrations of the music keeping him going.

in all honestly, Charlie didn’t like you. he tried to keep it as low key as he possibly could because it was nothing personal he just thought you were a little to talkative.

though lately, you were not. not to him at least, not how you used to be. he knew it was hypocritical for him to care but with a little bit of liquid courage, he decided curiosity would kill the cat.

“you mad at me, or something?” he asked curtly, suddenly glad that the kitchen was empty too not cause a scene. “like, whatever— who cares, but what have i done?” Charlie’s sober self begged him to stop, though in this moment he couldn’t.