Jerry/charley solace
He couldn’t remember how long he’d been stuck in this room, the white walls blurring together until time was a thing he once knew but could no longer place, and what was left of his life dissolved from hours, minutes and seconds into sour notes of loneliness that could only be quenched by one person, if he even counted as such.
Jerry would sit with him for… well, he didn’t know how long really, but his company was no longer the detested thing it had been before everything became white. Instead of throwing the food Jerry provided back into his face, Charley accepted it gratefully, and when Jerry gifted him personal stories about the very long life he had led, Charley reciprocated with the few paltry offerings his short years had given him, relishing those secret little smiles he used to loathe, and even if it was only feet between them, when Jerry sat against the opposite wall, Charley felt that distance like a gulf.
That was probably why, in a moment of madness, he had reached up as Jerry turned to the door, catching his arm in a weak grip that would have done nothing to stop him if Jerry hadn’t frozen at the touch, but Charley was desperate, terrified at the prospect of another forever with nothing but white until he came back.
“Wait,” And when Jerry turned, dark eyes soaking up the sight of the thin pale fingers wrapped around his wrist, Charley tightened his grip until he could see the hunger written plainly on Jerry’s face, “Please don’t go.”
