Being Wrong | ✓

Part 19

"You okay?" Travis asked as he went to join Charlie on the sofa.

He hadn't really expected a response, and he didn't get one. Charlie had cocooned himself in the red knit blanket, head and all, and was now wriggling around.

Travis sighed and leant his head back. "I don't really know what's going on or what I'm supposed to do here or just like... anything."

Charlie accidentally kicked a foot out of his cocoon then pulled it back and tucked everything in again.

"Sometimes I see you hurting and I think, like... I've been there, I understand that and I know what it's like. But then, things like this, and... I haven't been where you are right now and I don't know what it is or what it's like or what I can do to help. What am I supposed to do?"

Charlie rolled to the edge of the sofa in his cocoon and Travis reached out a hand, thinking he was about to fall, but Charlie turned it into a controlled tumble without assistance. He squirmed on the floor for a moment, then slowly wriggled his cocoon under the coffee table.

"Well, feeling sorry for myself sure as shit isn't gonna be helpful, huh?" Travis asked the lump of his boyfriend, which had finally settled down a bit now that it was in its cave.

But... Charlie was here for some reason. He could have been bundled up in his own bed, but he'd come back out of his room and determinedly marched over to Travis' apartment. He clearly didn't want affection, so... music? Was that it? That had, after all, been what had lured Charlie to him in the first place. Travis went and got his guitar.

Charlie fell still at the sound of the first few notes, and then he stretched out within his cocoon and let out a long sigh. Travis kept going, a quiet, slow improvisation as Charlie began to settle.

Eventually Charlie kicked his legs out of his cocoon, and then his arms, and then he finally shoved the blanket off of his head. His face was red and sweaty. When he finally looked up at Travis, it was with eyes that focussed and saw in a way they hadn't seemed able to earlier.

Travis' fingers stilled on the strings. "Hey."

Charlie didn't say anything, he just crawled out from under the coffee table, climbed back onto the sofa, and cuddled in against Travis side.

"You feeling a bit better?"

"Mmh." Charlie's cheek was resting against Travis' shoulder, and Travis could feel the heat of it even through his shirt.

Travis idly strummed at the strings of his guitar. "What were you so upset about?"

Charlie shrugged. "Nothing."

"It obviously wasn't nothing."

"Mmgh." Charlie wriggled around until his back was to Travis, though he still stayed close.

"All right, sorry. I'm sorry. I'll stop talking if you want. Just, like... if I did something wrong, I want to know." Travis started playing again. At this point, it was the only thing he felt reasonably confident was the right move.

After a few minutes, Charlie rolled back over to face him. "You're fine. My brain is just bad."

"Okay," Travis said carefully. "Just... for no reason? You just suddenly felt bad?"

Charlie shrugged. "Lots of reasons, but they're all just stupid things that shouldn't matter and then everything is too much, and everything more is double too much and. I don't know? I really don't."

"It's all right. I think I sort of get it. You'd just had enough for one day and then things got rough because we couldn't really just suddenly be back home at that point."