the other side of us | ✓

2.10 | almost forgot about you

Charlotte took a shaky breath as she locked the doors of the coffee shop and leaned against the window, her eyes closed. Seeing Mason at the supermarket was one thing, but seeing him here in her space, was a wholly other thing.

It had been harder than she'd thought it would be, to look him in the eye and pretend that she didn't feel like she was crumbling inside. The pain in her chest was easing now, and she took a deeper breath as she shut off the lights and made her way upstairs to her apartment.

He'd looked different. Charlotte didn't know what it was, but he'd seemed softer, less sure of himself. Not as confident as he had before.

Charlotte ignored the chirping of her phone as she undid her shoes and put them next to the shoe rack, dropping her sweater next to them. Tomorrow was laundry day, so she'd clean up then.

She changed into her pajamas and slid into bed, still too shaken to do anything more than pull her contacts off and splash water on her face. Mason was still on her mind as she shut off the light.

However he had dealt with the death of his mother and sister, it was clear that he was no longer the same boy that had shoved her against a wall and tore through her shop all those years ago.

*

Devin had never taken kindly to knowing things last, so she was the first person that Charlotte called when she woke up in the morning.

It was Friday, the one day during the week that Charlotte closed the shop. It was reserved for inventory, deep cleaning, and the occasional girls' day.

While she was waiting for her friends to arrive, Charlotte gathered the clothes in her room that needed a washing and added them to a basket by the door. Despite being back for several months, she'd never made it to unpacking her room, so boxes were stacked haphazardly in her way. She plucked a shirt from the lampshade it was hanging off of, not bothering to think about how it had gotten there in the first place and threw it in the direction of the basket. It landed just shy of it on the floor and she groaned.

Once upon a time, there had been nothing Charlotte loved more than a clean room, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Since moving to New York, she'd found it harder to care if her clothes made it into the hamper or if she made her bed every day.

Charlotte finished collecting her clothes and shoved the remaining few shirts into the basket before hoisting it to her hip and moving towards the laundry room.

The soft whooshing of the back and forth motion of the washing machine had always relaxed Charlotte, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door frame, breathing softly.

She didn't know how she felt about yesterday. Devin had tried to pry it out of her when she'd called, but Charlotte had simply told her that something had happened, and she wanted to tell them in person before hanging up.

By the time Devin arrived at the apartment with Ash in tow, Charlotte had added a second load to the washing machine and had moved into the living room to pick up a couple of wrappers and cans that were strewn about.

Devin didn't wait to sit down before demanding Charlotte spill the details.

"He came to the shop? Did you hear him out? What happened?"

Charlotte waited for her friends to take a seat on the couch before settling into an armchair and detailing his visit, leaving out her breaking a cup and glossing over the details of his mother's death.

When she was finished, Ash rested a hand on her knee and smiled at her sympathetically.

"Are you okay? Last time you saw him . . ."