[Somehow, no matter on how many of these situations they find themselves in, Chuck always finds something new, freshly terrifying in each one of them, whether it's the feel of the dents in the road, the kind of growl Mutt did, or the tension in Mike's muscles whenever he clings to his arm, so tight that sometimes, afterwards when they're counting cuts and wounds (Chuck's the only one counting; Mike pretends they don't matter), he'd wonder if that bruise was a result of the crash or the way his fingers pressed too tight even through the fabric of the jacket.
It wears off, though. The wave of panic washes off exponentially with each deep, loud breath he takes right after he stumbles his way out of the car, and the layer of sweat, fear, ash and the realization they scraped too close to the line yet again, goes down the drain along with the tepid shower water.
As he waits for Mike to come back, he watches Mutt, the bobblehead they brought into the room with them (the car is wrecked again, but they would fix that later), her nose bouncing up and down with just a flick of Chuck's fingers. He sighs, but still smiles a little, not caring to dry his hair yet, a towel just stretched over the pillow under his head.
He glances towards the door as it opens, stretching his arms and legs a little with a yawn.]
A little. [He's more relieved than tired, honestly, and it's apparent in the way he rolls to rest on his back, a little restless. He can recognize, even if he doesn't get the same kick out of it that Mike does, remnants of adrenaline still travelling through him.] But I think one of these days I'm just gonna lose my voice.
hehehehe /)u(\
It wears off, though. The wave of panic washes off exponentially with each deep, loud breath he takes right after he stumbles his way out of the car, and the layer of sweat, fear, ash and the realization they scraped too close to the line yet again, goes down the drain along with the tepid shower water.
As he waits for Mike to come back, he watches Mutt, the bobblehead they brought into the room with them (the car is wrecked again, but they would fix that later), her nose bouncing up and down with just a flick of Chuck's fingers. He sighs, but still smiles a little, not caring to dry his hair yet, a towel just stretched over the pillow under his head.
He glances towards the door as it opens, stretching his arms and legs a little with a yawn.]
A little. [He's more relieved than tired, honestly, and it's apparent in the way he rolls to rest on his back, a little restless. He can recognize, even if he doesn't get the same kick out of it that Mike does, remnants of adrenaline still travelling through him.] But I think one of these days I'm just gonna lose my voice.