The Art of Yearning

My Home

It's dark as Charlie opens his eyes. It's early, he tells himself before looking over his shoulder to Henry sprawled out on the bed. Charlie doesn't like co-sleeping. He'd let it pass this time. The cold hotel room in a different place wasn't very much like home.

Feeling for his phone on his nightstand, his phone lights up, and he has no notifications. You've been quiet, awfully quiet from the news that dropped on you. He'd remember your smile and the information that the people close to you told, having it end in tears and confusion.

He gets a notification from Mary Ann and UCLA, something to do about Exit Ghost's schedule and what plays he'll help with. Charlie hadn't been thinking about his plays, scripts, or his job. He'd only been thinking about you, which he keeps to himself knowing that you'd get upset. Telling him that he shouldn't be distracted for you.

Sitting up, he grabs his watch, slowly placing it on as his eyes glance around the room. It's a one-bed hotel room, spacious yet small—the lively yellow wall with beige curtains on his left illuminating the slow sunrise. The large tv sitting right in front of the bed, showing his figure. Henry and Charlie watched a movie last night, which he was distracted about. Henry quickly passing out from the long day of traveling.

You didn't want to share a room. Charlie tried to question you, but he knew it was best to give you space. "Just for now, Charlie." You spoke so softly. Charlie had to stay quiet and process.

"I don't want to leave you alone," Charlie responded as he grabbed the bags from the luggage claim.

"I still have long hours of researching, and I don't want my light on to affect you, the both of you."

Charlie nodded, wanting to ignore your wishes and have you be together so he could comfort you. Memorize more of you as you slept.

"It's not Henry, I promise. Though I don't know if he'd be comfortable sleeping in the same room as me." You added, fixing your tote bag on your shoulder.

He didn't think so, but he didn't ask. He should have. Charlie cleared his throat, looking at Henry as he played around the terminal, quickly going to the both of them. "No playing here, okay?"

Charlie didn't give specifics to Nicole about you, asking if he could take Henry to Florida. She must have seen the worry finding its way permanently to his face. She allowed him, making a strict schedule of the time Henry had to call her. Not in a bad way but in a way a mother wanted to hear from her child.

Charlie gets ready first, taking a shower, then shaving the short stubble growing on his chin. He doesn't know how to dress, dressing as he knows best. His rolled-up, white button-up shirt, tucked into his blue slacks. He hoped it wouldn't be too hot to wear.

He gets out of the bathroom, gently opening the curtains to allow the sun to creep in. Sitting next to Henry, he gently places his hand on his stomach, tapping his fingers to wake Henry up. They watch a show on the tv before Henry says he's well-rested. He energetically goes to the bathroom to get ready next. Then Charlie hears his door knock.

He opens the door catching sight of you. He quickly hugs you tight as he says, good morning. You smile small at him, gently placing a kiss on his lips. Your eyes are slightly inflamed, with small amounts of makeup covering them up. He could tell you were crying. Charlie saw the dark colors under your eyes. He hated that you couldn't sleep. He wanted to help, but Charlie felt helpless in what to do.

"Come on in." He gestures for you to walk into his room, your hand rubbing his chest as you pass him. He watches you look around, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. "How'd you sleep, sweetheart?"