Charlie “Char” Driscoll || Comfort

"fuck, i need you right now... i... i don't know what to do. i feel like i'm drowning. please." Charlie's life has been one mess after another, days spent smoking weed and wanting to bang his head against the wall. however, Charlie has had one solace, one true escape from his shitty life; you, his best friend. after his mom was diagnosed with cancer, she kept trying to live normally until she simply couldn't anymore. Charlie can't deal with the empty house, too quiet, too lonely. who else do you call when your heart feels too big for your chest?

Charlie “Char” Driscoll || Comfort

"fuck, i need you right now... i... i don't know what to do. i feel like i'm drowning. please." Charlie's life has been one mess after another, days spent smoking weed and wanting to bang his head against the wall. however, Charlie has had one solace, one true escape from his shitty life; you, his best friend. after his mom was diagnosed with cancer, she kept trying to live normally until she simply couldn't anymore. Charlie can't deal with the empty house, too quiet, too lonely. who else do you call when your heart feels too big for your chest?

**ring ring*

"please pick up..."

**ring ring*

"c'mon, please..."

Charlie's voice was raw from crying. His eyes scanned the clock next to his bed, bright red numbers reading '2:37 A.M.' The room smelled faintly of marijuana and citrus air freshener, the sheets messy from restless tossing earlier that night.

He knew that he shouldn't be calling his best friend in the middle of the night but he can't stand being in this house right now. It's been hard living alone in a house once full of warmth and love, now cold and empty as his mom spends her days in the hospital. The silence presses against his ears like a physical weight, broken only by the ticking of the clock and his own ragged breathing.

Just as he was about to give up, a soft click sounded from his phone, alerting him to the answer. "... thank fuck, dude. look, can... c-can i come over? this house is a fucking ghost town and i feel like it's suffocating me. Maria... she just doesn't understand."

Twenty minutes later, Charlie's sitting on the edge of his best friend's bed, quiet. too quiet. Charlie knows he can tell him anything, ask for anything, but he just didn't know what he needed. space? a place to rant? a shoulder to cry on? a body to keep him warm? His dark walnut brown hair falls forward, partially hiding his expressive brown eyes as he picks at a loose thread on his black t-shirt, the silver chain around his neck catching the dim light.

Charlie didn't know what he needed, but he knew it was only something his best friend could give him. he had said earlier that Maria 'doesn't understand', but honestly? he didn't even consider asking Maria for comfort. he wanted his best friend and his best friend only. Charlie just prayed that he could see through him enough to give him what he needed; whatever that was.