To be honest, this chapter and Chapter 4 were very hard to write. I don't know why.
And that p-class coding thing is back. What's up with that?
Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment
Great Gatsby © 2013 Baz Luhrmann
Wilson realized he had ceased to breathe in the subsequent moment. He inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves, and walked into the living room after Maxwell.
He found Maxwell and Charlie, standing there, staring at each other, both startled, like they hadn't expected each other, of all people, to be standing there in front of them.
There were nervous introductions, then the tea was served. And then came the awkward silences punctuated by even more awkward sentences. It was killing Wilson.
"I just remembered!" He announced suddenly, standing up. "I need to go to town—need to get something."
It took all of Wilson's self-control not to bolt from there, instead settling for a brisk trot. Maxwell, however, did bolt from the room. "Hold on, pal! I just remembered something I wanted to talk to you about—"
Wilson stopped at the door, hoping Charlie didn't notice. "What?" Wilson hissed.
Maxwell, meanwhile, was a nervous wreck. "This was a mistake, a terrible mistake!" he hissed.
Oh good, I'm not the only one who thinks so, Wilson thought. "Don't be ridiculous," he whispered. "Charlie's just as embarrassed as you are!"
That brought Maxwell up short. "She's embarrassed?" he asked, as though it had never occurred to him.
"Yes!" Wilson stressed, waving him back to the living room. "Go talk to her!"
Wilson dashed through the door before Maxwell had a chance to change his mind.
Wilson stood beneath the oak tree in his yard, mostly sheltered from the rain pouring down. He watched the puddles form in his yard, all the while wondering what he was doing. Yes, it felt really good to stick it to Tom like this; yes, he felt Charlie deserved a chance at happiness. But…he had no idea. He had no idea what he was doing, or why, or if he even should.
And worst of all, Wilson realized, he had left Charlie alone in there, with no reason or knowledge why, beyond the fact that he was uncomfortable with the whole situation.
Wilson sighed. He had to go back in there.
As if to agree with his decision, it stopped raining.
Wilson sighed again, trudging his way through the puddles and back into his house.
The first thing Wilson noted when he opened the door was how quiet it was.
That worried him, he realized, especially when the door closing was so loud in comparison. He wanted to rush in there, save his cousin, but he forced himself to take measured steps to the living room.
What he saw surprised him.
Maxwell and Charlie were sitting on the couch, talking quietly, absolutely absorbed in each other. Maxwell's back was to Wilson, but Wilson could clearly see Charlie's face—she was radiant in her quiet happiness.
Wilson was tempted to walk back out, but Charlie glanced up. Wilson cleared his throat to announce his presence properly.
"It's stopped raining," he announced inanely.
There was something very dazed in the way they looked out the window to check his statement. "Oh it has stopped raining. How—how wonderful," Charlie noted.
"Yes, wonderful," Maxwell said, although he wasn't looking out the window.
He stood up suddenly.
"Come along, both of you—I want to show you around my house." Maxwell addressed this last half to Charlie.
"Of course! Let me just—let me go powder my nose," Charlie said, dashing out the room. Wilson pointed to give her the direction.
"Second door on your right," he told her. He turned to Maxwell, about to say something, when something occurred to him.
"What's with that expression, pal?" Maxwell asked.
"I forgot to tidy the bathroom," Wilson groaned.
Maxwell's mouth was half-open, probably to ask him what the big deal was, when Charlie's voice drifted in.
"Wilson? What is this you have growing in your tub?"