The Guilt Trip [slow updates]

[29] Grilled Cheese

Five in the morning. Darkness still loomed over the house.

   Skipper switched off the shower and stepped out, wrapping herself in a thick towel. She wrung her hair out a bit before putting on her clothes. A soft tap resounded on the outside of the door, followed by Wade asking if she was ready to go yet. They needed to be at the airport soon and Wade's friend Dalton was coming to drop them off.

   "I'll be out in a minute," she responded, sounding quite exhausted. Within moments she opened the door and stepped out. Wade observed her.

   "No makeup today?"

   "Nah," she shook her head. "I'm too tired for that."

   "Too tired, or too self conscious?" Wade smirked, to which she raised an eyebrow; expressing that she did not wish to engage in any sort of banter this early in the morning. Wade countered her raised eyebrow with one of his own before heading downstairs to answer the door.

   Skipper wandered into the spare room and sat on the bed. They'd spent a week here just to get some downtime. Besides that, Wade had a few things to take care of. Skipper didn't mind; it was nice to rest in an actual bed and catch up on sleep. And it was nice to walk around the quiet neighborhood in the evening with Charles, who was always surprisingly well-behaved. Wade's house was spacious, but cozy. Skipper had a sinking feeling that even though this wasn't her home, she would still experience homesickness for it once they left for Paris.

   Might as well get going, they had a plane to catch. Taking one last look around the room she'd occupied for a week, feeling a bit sad that she might never occupy this room again, Skipper made sure she hadn't forgotten anything before heading downstairs to join Charles in the back of Dalton's car. Wade checked the house one more time before locking up and handing a set of keys to Dalton, who promised to take good care of the place until they got back. Skipper wanted to argue with him, wanted to say that she probably wasn't ever coming back to this nice place. Only Wade and Charles would be coming back. But she held her tongue, instead choosing to hold Charle's collar so he wouldn't wiggle too much. Wade took his place in the front passenger seat and Dalton pulled out of the driveway.

   Yes, Charles was coming with them. He was a service animal, after all. Wade had tried to explain how that was so, but Skipper had never paid much mind. In a way, it was comforting to know they wouldn't be leaving Wade's precious pet behind. For some reason, Skipper just couldn't imagine completing her trip without her Uber's ant-loving sidekick.

   The drive to the airport was quiet and somber. Wade and Dalton held a quiet conversation, but Skipper tuned it out. It had started raining again and she gazed out the window, trying to push unpleasant thoughts from her mind.

   She hadn't been feeling very good the past few days, and she knew she should probably have seen a doctor before leaving for Paris. But she didn't want to be a burden, even if this was her own trip. The sick feelings would go away on their own; they always did. She could almost count on it.

   Though...despite dealing with this for years, it was never something she could get used to.

   "—Hey."

   Wade's voice, firm and loud, shattered through her tumultuous thoughts. She glanced up, looking quite lost and she wondered for a brief moment if he was yelling at her. Had she done something wrong?

   He looked back at her, eyebrows raised expectantly. But there was no ferocity in his green eyes, and in fact they looked more on the gray side today. She blamed the rainy weather for that, but it was nice not to see them so vibrantly intense.

   "You're holding Charles' harness too tightly," Wade pointed out. 

   Skipper looked down and saw for the first time that indeed, she'd been gripping it like a lifeline. A bashful look crossed her face as she slowly released her hold, flexing her fingers afterward. They were quite tense. Charles peeped at her with his beady eyes and gave her a friendly slurp before crawling onto the seat beside her and lying down with his long snout in her lap. She stroked him gently, no longer revolted by this creature. Wade was still observing her, but she had to admit to herself that his observance was also something she'd grown used to—just as she'd gotten used to having Charles around. Charles was kind of like a dog sometimes, only he didn't bark and he had a much cuter face, in his own unique way.