abyss ↣ joe sugg au

twenty

[Trigger Warning: mentions of depression/suicide]

- important: caspar and charlotte are no longer in a relationship but charlotte and joe aren't in one either

Joe found Charlotte an hour later, back crooked and head leaning on her arms over the bar of the bridge.

"Hey, hey," He hushed as he got closer and heard Charlotte's ragged sobs, he pulled at her hips so she peeled herself off the barrier and she turned to burrow herself under Joe's arm.

#

It was dark outside by now and Charlotte was wrapped up on the sofa in Joe's duvet, with coffee and Friends playing on the TV. Joe stepped out of the bathroom and the overwhelming smell of strawberry and kiwi followed, making Charlotte's next sip of coffee taste like an odd mixture of both.

Joe fumbled around in the kitchen for a moment, before he crouched behind the sofa to rest his chin on it, running his water shrimped fingers through Charlotte's hair mindlessly for a moment.

"Hey," He whispers and Charlotte tilts her head back, seeing nothing but his damp hair and the heavy bags under her eyes weighted her back down.

He scoops his hip onto the armrest of the sofa shortly after.

"You never told me what happened with my sister." He said deadpan.

Charlotte couldn't hear Monica and Chandler arguing anymore, couldn't hear anything except the blood rushing to ears. With everything, she'd completely forgotten about the three hour conversation she had with Zoe.

"She's getting married." Was all that fell out of her mouth clumsily and Joe rolled his eyes.

"I know that dummy." He scoffed and slid down onto the sofa, knees pressing against Charlotte's.

"Um.." Charlotte tried to remember back to the start. "Well..."

"Just tell me what happened." His eyes stole the colour of the night sky outside and Charlotte's chest felt constricted as she held in a breath.

"Well, there's this coffee shop, The Doorstep - I went there a lot and just used to people watch and I was out shopping for Andrea and Kian and I thought I would just pop in you know, for old time sake. Then I saw her and I wasn't one-hundred-percent certain because it was just hair but I don't know, I ran after her anyway. She thought I was a journalist at first, but I showed her that picture of us you know, a while back in those clothes and that seemed to convince her I wasn't some thirsty ass journo looking for a scoop."

Joe was all wide eyed, open mouthed, like he was a child again and listening intently to a bedtime story.

"We talked for ages Joe, I mean the sky had dropped ten shades darker in the time we were sat there. She told me a lot of things about when you were kids and she talked about Alfie a lot as well, she seems happy -- by the way, and she even told me a bit of your secret language but it's okay because I'm sworn to secrecy. She wants us to come to the wedding. Her exact words, 'You should come Charlotte, with Joe maybe'."

Joe visibly stiffened, spine rigid against the cushion of the couch. 

"I can't." And his voice was barely audible.

Charlotte looked at him with pity in her eyes. She could see how much he wanted to go, to see Zoe again, he'd wanted to the moment he left but it was never going to be that simple.

"We used to plan out her wedding day when we were younger." Joe sniffed, a wet lipped smile forming. "She vowed to wear a snap-back down the isle, she was a right tom-boy back then." 

They start laughing then, emotionally driven tears. The night continued like this for a while, Charlotte was buried into the corner of the sofa, spiking up Joe's hair as he sprawled out along the length of the sofa, clutching his stomach through laughter as he remembered fond memories of Zoe that had been forgotten through the mist of hurt.

Joe fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, breaths even and the only sound in the apartment. Charlotte shifted from beneath him, placing his duvet over him, before moving onto the one-seater, grabbing her coat from the floor and pulling it over herself. She contemplated calling Caspar for a few moments, but then she picked up her phone and the time flashed up as 2.23am and Charlotte was a bad person, the worst, but she would never wake someone up at this hour.

It took longer than she would of liked, but she finally drifted off to a restless sleep, dreaming about flat-capped brides and lost boys and broken hearts.