TW: panic attack
As it turns out, their little heart-to-heart chat changes nothing at all. When Charlotte finally went home that day, holding Adrian's hand like a toddler, he'd joked about it all the way to her apartment. This made her feel somewhat reassured since she really likes the tentative friendship they built carefully over the last three months. It's still somewhat fragile due to her frequent mood swings, but still, it's more than she's had since her days in the field, and she's very keen on cherishing every aspect of it.
Charlotte is also very aware of the fact that she hasn't touched a single bottle of booze since her last lapse that landed her in the hospital. It's only been nine days, but she feels a little proud of that particular achievement, nonetheless.
Adrian still is the only person she has any kind of social interaction with, but for now, Charlotte is very content to let it stay that way. She can do without the judgmental stares. Of course, she's very well aware that she has a certain reputation with the other reapers in the dispatch, but she never cared less than now.
Adrian also has taken to calling her 'Charly'. Charlotte can't quite decide whether she likes it or not, but she hasn't told him to stop yet. She's thinking of a nickname for Adrian as well, but so far she hasn't been able to come up with something that she likes. Her current favorites are 'Ace' and 'Rian', however, she doesn't quite feel comfortable enough to test them on him yet.
A loud clang startles Charlotte and she bolts up from where she'd been slumped against the uncomfortable armrest of the only armchair she owns. For a moment there's silence, and the only thing Charlotte hears is her breathing. She narrows her eyes in a half-hearted attempt to look intimidating, but then she hears a by now familiar shuffling of feet.
"Adrian," she asks flatly, her head already swiveling around to pinpoint his exact location.
"Sorry," he whispers from somewhere on her left, and Charlotte concludes that he'd been in the kitchen.
"I was trying to make food," Adrian says, his voice and his footsteps nearing her spot. Charlotte cracks a small smile almost unknowingly.
"You and your strange obsession with food," she says as she gets up, grimacing at how stiff her back is.
An indignant huff answers her.
"Excuse me? It's not an obsession-"
"-just a healthy amount of interest, yes, you mentioned this before,"
Charlotte shuffles over to the kitchen, managing to narrowly evade a cupboard on her way, but not quite managing to evade the doorframe that comes after it. She curses absentmindedly, by now well used to all the different obstacles in her flat.
Adrian follows her, chattering away about how a stew would benefit from the addition of pasta, and Charlotte listens obediently, only grunting occasionally to show that she is indeed not zoning out.
"What time is it?", she asks eventually while simultaneously touching the windowsill in her kitchen, which would always heat up during the afternoon due to its' exposure to the sun.
"What do you think?", Adrian asks, and Charlotte rolls her eyes fondly.
Letting her hand rest on the sill, she swirls it in thoughtful circles.
"Maybe around eleven? It's not hot yet, but it's warm," she says after contemplating for a little more than a minute. Adrian lets out a surprised sound, and she turns around to face him.
"How far away am I?", she asks, smiling slightly.
"You're pretty close. It's about a quarter to twelve," Adrian answers. Charlotte lets out a small whoop and pumps her fist into the air slightly, already turning around and sitting down at the table. She receives a clap on her shoulder from Adrian on her way.
"Atta, girl," he croons, and Charlotte can practically hear his grin. She just shakes her head at him exasperatedly.
"Why are you here again?"
"Oh, come on, can't a good friend visit you? You're so cruel," Adrian wails in mock hurt, making her laugh out loud. Charlotte can't quite wipe the smile off her face when she hears him make a small, satisfied noise. She slaps his leg lightly, as it is the only part of him she can reach in her seated position. She lets out a satisfied cackle when the Silver Fox lets out an undignified yelp as her hand lands dangerously high on his thigh, but a second later lets out an equally undignified yelp when he retaliates by tugging on her ponytail.
"Seriously though, is there a reason you're here?"
Adrian lets go of her hair to stir something that's bubbling merrily on the stove before he answers, his tone distracted.
"Yeah, remember what we decided on yesterday? You said we'd need all day."
Charlotte bites back a curse.
Yesterday during another one of their walks out to the field Adrian had had the brilliant idea to clean her apartment, and for some unfathomable reason, she'd agreed. Reluctantly, she nods.
"Yeah, right. I said that. Pretty sure this place needs it."
Adrian just lets out a badly suppressed cackle. Charlotte snorts. It's like he wants her to know how much he's enjoying making her suffer.
He lets her sit on the chair in dejected silence, and she hears his footsteps leading away in the direction of the living area again. Immediately, she gets up to follow him, not quite trusting him to not bring chaos about the second she's not watching him.
They start by collecting all the heaps of trash that have accumulated over the last few weeks since the last time she cleaned, and Charlotte has to stop Adrian from throwing away furniture more than once.
"On that note, when was the last time you had a haircut?"
Charlotte is standing in front of her cabinet, arms stretched out as widely as possible, trying to protect herself and the shelf behind her from Adrian's impossibly long limbs as he's currently trying to convince her that the whole shelf isn't necessary.
It's an innocent question, but Charlotte stiffens, nonetheless. Adrian's hands touch hers softly where they are pressed against the shelf, and Charlotte can't help but flinch.
"You okay?", he asks quietly when she doesn't immediately answer him, and she shrugs helplessly.
"I don't know," she answers hesitantly, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against Adrian's longer ones where they rest on hers. She feels claustrophobic suddenly, boxed in between the cabinet behind her and the considerably taller grim reaper in front of her, and she can't breathe.
Adrian immediately lets go of her hands when she chokes and desperately tries to steady her breathing. When he steps back a few inches, not quite knowing what to do, she immediately crumbles to the floor, shivering violently. He crouches down next to her, hands gripping hers again. Charlotte tries to tell him to leave her, not to touch her, but no sound comes out. She vaguely hears him ask her to breathe, and she realizes that she'd been holding her breath. When she tries to breathe, no air comes in, and she chokes again. Through the panic, Adrian grabs her hands and presses them against his chest. She hears him talk about something, not quite being able to make out the words, just focusing on the slow rise and fall of Adrian's chest. They sit there crouched on the floor for what feels like forever, but gradually breathing feels easier again.
After a few more seconds where the only sound is her ragged breathing and his steady breathing, she gradually unfurls from her uncomfortable position on the floor. Fumbling a bit, she finds Adrian's hand and wordlessly slips her fingers between his.
They sit in silence for a moment, then Adrian starts talking about her flat, describing all the pieces of furniture around them in meticulous detail. The calm and steady sound of his voice helps Charlotte calm down further, and slowly she hauls herself up into a kneeling position.
"I'm sorry," she says, her voice unsteady, interrupting his still on-going flow of nonsense. He stills next to her, and for a second, Charlotte imagines what his face might look like, imagines him with big, earnest eyes that hold everything good in them, a handsome face and long, soft hair. She has the sudden realization that she'll never know what he looks like.
"Don't apologize," says Adrian, slowly taking her hands into his again.
"Don't apologize," he repeats, and she feels him shift restlessly next to her.
"Can I hug you?", he asks, and Charlotte hesitates for only a short second before nodding.
Immediately she's enveloped in his arms, her head pressing against his shoulder uncomfortably for a moment before she turns her face into the crook of his neck. He begins humming quietly, a melody she doesn't recognize but finds strangely soothing. He smells like cookies, she realizes almost bemusedly, and something else, something flowery that she can't identify.
For a moment Charlotte allows herself to sag against him, pressing herself into his side, absentmindedly noticing how twisted Adrian sits next to her.
Charlotte lets out a quiet sigh, and feels Adrian kiss the crown of her head softly. She wonders idly why he's doing this when she obviously doesn't deserve it.
"Are you okay if we talk about this?", he asks, the vibrations of his voice against her head making her giggle a bit. Charlotte contemplates this, hesitating but nodding.
"Does the thought of something sharp near your face make you uncomfortable?"
Charlotte has to suppress a small flinch but nods as best as she can with her nose still pressed against Adrian's neck. She feels his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, making a comforting sound in the back of his throat when she stiffens again.
"Don't worry, we can find a solution for this," he says eventually, and pats her on the back consolingly. Slowly, he straightens his posture, and they disentangle themselves from the embrace.
"But first, food!", Adrian shouts dramatically and it sounds incredibly loud compared to the previous silence, but Charlotte smiles at the blatant try of distracting her regardless.
She sighs dramatically but gets up and follows him to the kitchen anyway. After all, his food is always impeccable.