Charles' POV
I sat on his couch.The room was quiet — not awkward, not uncomfortable.
Just… Alexander's kind of quiet.
I'd forgotten how silent he could be when he wasn't high or buzzed on something stupid with the old crew.
People always assumed danger came with noise — shouting, fighting, breaking things.
But Alexander?
His danger lived in the calm.
In how still he could become.
How his presence could fill a room without him saying a single word.
That kind of quiet was worse.
More controlled.
More deliberate.
More real.
He moved around the kitchen with that same quiet efficiency, and before long he was sipping a cup of coffee, leaning slightly against the counter. The mug looked small in his hand. Everything always did.
I watched him over the top of my phone, pretending to scroll even though the screen wasn't even on.
He didn't say anything.
He just drank his coffee, eyes flicking to me now and then.
Not judging.
Not prying.
Just… watching.
