35 ᴍᴍ ꜰɪʟᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ I 🎀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈 [𝑔𝓍𝑔] 🎀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐: 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 [𝐓𝐖]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 22 [ᴛᴡ]

The tension in the car was unbearable. Gracie's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The city lights blurred past, but all she could focus on was finding Charlie. Next to her, Elizabeth was furiously trying to call Charlie's phone again, but every time it went straight to voicemail.

"Still nothing," Elizabeth muttered, her voice tight with frustration. "Where the hell is she?"

Gracie didn't respond, her mind racing. The panic gnawed at her, each unanswered call feeding the worst-case scenarios swirling in her head. She couldn't stop thinking about the conversations she has had with Charlie—the times when Charlie seemed distant, the times she had retreated into herself. 

The sound of the car's engine hummed quietly as Gracie's thoughts drifted, her eyes scanning the roads of California aimlessly. The city's lights flickered past her, but none of it registered in her mind. All she could think about was Charlie—and how she had lost her. It wasn't just about finding her tonight; it was about wondering if she ever truly knew Charlie at all after a couple of  years.

As she drove through the city, memories flooded Gracie's mind—those quiet, intimate moments with Charlie, the ones that felt so personal, so real. But now, those same moments felt distant, like she had only scratched the surface of who Charlie really was.

***

They had been tangled up in bed, the sheets wrapped loosely around them after a long day. Gracie had been resting her head on Charlie's chest, listening to the slow rhythm of her heartbeat, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the tattoos on Charlie's arm.

"How do you like your coffee?" Gracie had asked, her voice soft in the dim light.

Charlie laughed quietly, her breath warm against Gracie's hair. "Black. No sugar, no cream."

Gracie scrunched her nose in mock disgust, lifting her head to look at her. "God, that's so weird."

"Please, come on. It's not that bad," Charlie replied with a grin.

Gracie couldn't help but smile back, rolling her eyes playfully. "Sure, whatever you say, weirdo."

Gracie blinked back into the present, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. Coffee. It's just coffee, right? But was I really listening?  It's just coffee... The small details were supposed to help her understand Charlie, but now they felt trivial compared to the real issues they had been facing.

***

Another night, they had been lying together in the quiet, the world outside forgotten for a few precious hours. They had been playing a game of "questions" to get to know each other better, asking anything and everything.

"What's... your guilty pleasure?" Gracie asked, her voice carrying a teasing edge.

Charlie smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Devouring an entire red velvet cake."

Gracie laughed softly, shaking her head. "That sounds about right."

"Either that or cigarettes after sex," Charlie added, her voice low and playful.

Gracie groaned, playfully slapping Charlie's arm. "You're an idiot, Charlie-Wren."

"Mhm," Charlie hummed, leaning closer, "but I know you love that."