For a minute Charlie thought she had said too much, shared too much, and was ready to clam back up. It was a rare moment when she revealed such thoughts to another person, much less someone who was nearly a complete stranger. But there was something utterly comforting about Cat's presence, that made Charlie feel comfortable and listened to. Cat's words were taken, considered, and puzzled over - as usual, not only did Charlie have difficulty expressing herself vocally, but was never much of an audio learner. Her lips rolled over her teeth, thinking. She chose to ignore Cat's other question, the one about the reasons for Charlie's fears.
"Yeah, that makes sense," she finally agreed. And it did, sort of, as much as Charlie could understand it. Her hands loosed their grip on the counter, arms crossing over her chest loosely. "Outta anybody he probably knows me the best, but I still think he's crazy." She lifted a hand to her face, smearing fingers on the skin just underneath her eye as though she were relieving it of an eyelash or other irritation - then the hand was tucked back into the cross of her arms. Charlie looked down again, kicking her feet.
"Look, I'm sorry to dump all this on yah, I didn' mean to interrupt...yer laundry." She looked at Cat again, the need to apologize was something that felt imperative. But she felt a bit better, somewhat relieved of a weight she wasn't even aware she'd been carrying. The realization of that alone was worth something.