Heartstopper / Flufftober (Oct. 11, 2023)

~Nick & Charlie Again

(This takes place right after Charlie's rehab stay. There was so much darkness around that time, I felt like he deserved a little happiness.) Once again. Content Warning: Talk of eating disorders & anxiety.

Ever since Charlie's gotten back, I can sense the small yet palpable change in him. While he's still anxious a lot of the time, I can see how hard he's trying to get back a semblance of normalcy in his life. It's amazing how different he is from the last time I saw him before he left.

For almost a week after he got back, his parents refused to let me come over to his house because they thought he was still too fragile for company. He absolutely hated this, of course, and would constantly message me about it (not that I minded; I missed talking with him).

Today, however, is different. Today, I get to see him, and he wants to go to a cafe with me. I don't think I could be any more excited than I am as I slip on my black Vans.

"Nicky! We need to leave now if you want to be on time!" Mum yells up the stairs.

"Coming!" I shout back. I wouldn't miss this for the world.

I jog down the stairs and grab my jacket from the hook by the door before walking down the driveway to Mum's car.

"Are you excited?" Mum smiles at me as I slide into the passenger seat.

"Yeah, of course. I literally can't wait to see him again," I reply, looking out the window to avoid her seeing the heat rising in my cheeks.

We drive in a comfortable silence, the radio playing faintly. At about ten after ten, we pull into the parking lot of Caffe Nero. Through the window, I spot Charlie, standing next to his dad under the awning. I wave and open the door, feeling the happiness spreading throughout my entire body. He waves back with a small smile. His dad walks over to my mum's car window and chats with her.

Closer up, I can see that a little bit of the tiredness is gone, and his eyes are a bit less dull than before. His hand finds mine, and I whisper, "Is it okay if I hug you?"

He nods, wrapping his arms around me before I can. "I missed you. So much."

"I missed you, too," I reply, gently kissing his hair.

He pulls away and says, "You want to go inside? It's a bit chilly out here."

"Sure." I hold the door open for him, the cozy heat of the place wafting out. "Is your dad staying? It's alright if he does. I just want to make sure."

"No. He and my mum got into a huge argument about it, but since you're here, they finally agreed it would be fine."

I nod and turn to the menu. There is a small queue, so we have a bit of time to look. After a moment, I glance over at Charlie to make sure he's okay. As he stares at the board, a small crease forms between his brows, and I absolutely hate that I can't do anything about it.

"What are you getting?" he asks me. "I haven't been here much."

"I think I'm going to get a coffee and a pain au chocolate. What about you?"

I watch the small battle being fought behind his eyes as he glances back at the menu again. "I don't know. I mean, I know I need something, but it's all just so... much."

I give his hand a small squeeze. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. "You got this, Charlie," I whisper. "Take all the time you need."

After a few more minutes, he takes another deep breath and says, "I think I'll get an almond croissant."

"Sounds good," I reply, as we step up to the counter. The person behind it has short dark green hair and a nonbinary flag pin on the lanyard around their neck.

"What can I get you two?" they say in a chipper voice.

I order for us. As they type it out on the small computer, they look up and say to Charlie, "I love your shirt! The Strokes are such a good band!"

"Thanks," he says, looking down at his shirt.

"No problem." They smile and add, "Your total is £10.93. Would you like a receipt?"

"No thanks," I reply, handing over a ten and a five pound note. "Keep the change."

They nod in appreciation and say, "Your order will be ready in a few minutes."

"Where d'you want to sit?" I ask Charlie. The place is mostly empty, but a few groups have already come through the door, mostly people our age.

"How about there?" Charlie asks, pointing to a booth by the window.

"Perfect."

We sit across from each other, and I take my coat off. "So... how've you been, Char? D'you want to talk about anything?"

His face darkens slightly. "Um, not really, if that's okay. I hated every second, and I'd rather not sort through it right now." He glances next to us as a small group takes the round table beside us.

I take his hand on top of the table, smile supportively, and reply, "Whatever you want. I just wanted to offer in case you did."

He looks as if he's about to reply but is interrupted by the person from behind the counter walking up with two small bags and a cardboard coffe cup. "Here you are."

I take the bags from them and set them in between me and Charlie. After peering into one, I slide it over to him, pulling the other one towards me. I reach into the bag and pull out the pastry; Charlie does the same. I can't help but notice the slight tremble in his hands as he lays it down on top of the bag it came in. He looks up at me as I take a sip of my coffee. Then, he takes a small breath, tears off a piece of his croissant, and tentatively places it on his tongue.

As we eat, the cafe starts filling with more people, more than I thought would be here at this time. Charlie's demeanor starts to change, and I can sense the anxious energy radiating off him. His hands grip themselves every so often, as if he's sinking his nails into his palms for a brief moment, and his eyes dart in different directions. They land on me and the panic behind them is apparent.

"Hey," I say, gripping his hand gently. "Do you want to find a quieter spot maybe? I think there's a bench in the park across the street."

He looks at me gratefully. "That would be nice."

"Well, come on then," I reply, pulling my jacket on. "Let's go."

We each grab our small bag and what's left of the pastries and leave. By the door, I drop my empty coffee cup into the recycling bin. This time, Charlie holds the door for me.

Thankfully, the park is nearly empty, and the bench isn't far from the entrance. Out here, even though he still looks a bit nervous, it looks much less than what it was inside Caffe Nero. We spend our time on the bench without talking, the only sounds being a car driving by behind us every once in a while and the quiet chewing of puff pastry.

"That was really nice," Charlie says in a low voice as he crumbles his bag. "Thank you for meeting me. And sorry about what happened back there."

I turn to him. "You don't need to be sorry, okay? And it was really nice to see you again." I pull him into a hug. "Really."

"You're amazing, Nick. I just want you to know that."

I gently lean in so that out lips meet, as soft as the snow on the ground.

"So are you, Charlie. You're most definitely the bravest person I know."

The End