Quotes
I can love you and want you and still not want that life. I’m allowed
both superhuman and heartbreakingly flesh and blood
“I’d rather not do this where we might be overheard,” Henry says, taking a left on the landing.
Alex stomps up after him, following him into his bedroom. “Do what?” he says as Henry shuts the door behind them. “What are you gonna do, Henry?”
Henry turns to face him at last, and now that Alex’s eyes aren’t full of rainwater, he can see the skin under his eyes is papery and purple, rimmed pink at his eyelashes. There’s a tense set to his shoulders Alex hasn’t seen in months, not directed at him at least.
“I’m going to let you say what you need to say,” Henry says flatly, “so you can leave.”
Alex stares. “What, and then we’re over?”
Henry doesn’t answer him.
Something rises in Alex’s throat—anger, confusion, hurt, bile. Unforgivably, he feels like he might cry.
“Seriously?” he says, helpless and indignant. He’s still dripping. “What the fuck is going on? A week ago it was emails about how much you missed me and meeting my fucking dad, and that’s it? You thought you could fucking ghost me? I can’t shut this off like you do, Henry.”
Henry paces over to the elaborately carved fireplace across the room and leans on the mantelpiece. “You think I don’t care as much as you?”
“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”
“I honestly haven’t got the time to explain to you all the ways you’re wrong—”
“Jesus, could you stop being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?”
“So glad you flew here to insult me—”
“I fucking love you, okay?” Alex half yells, finally, irreversibly. Henry goes very still against the mantelpiece. Alex watches him swallow, watches the muscle that keeps twitching in his jaw, and feels like he might shake out of his skin. “Fuck, I swear. You don’t make it fucking easy. But I’m in love with you.”
A small click cuts the silence: Henry has taken his signet ring off and set it down on the mantel. He holds his naked hand to his chest, kneading the palm, the flickering light from the fire painting his face in dramatic shadows. “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“Of course I do—”
“Alex, please,” Henry says, and when he finally turns to look at him, he looks wretched, miserable. “Don’t. This is the entire goddamned reason. I can’t do this, and you know why I can’t do this, so please don’t make me say it.”
Alex stomps up after him, following him into his bedroom. “Do what?” he says as Henry shuts the door behind them. “What are you gonna do, Henry?”
Henry turns to face him at last, and now that Alex’s eyes aren’t full of rainwater, he can see the skin under his eyes is papery and purple, rimmed pink at his eyelashes. There’s a tense set to his shoulders Alex hasn’t seen in months, not directed at him at least.
“I’m going to let you say what you need to say,” Henry says flatly, “so you can leave.”
Alex stares. “What, and then we’re over?”
Henry doesn’t answer him.
Something rises in Alex’s throat—anger, confusion, hurt, bile. Unforgivably, he feels like he might cry.
“Seriously?” he says, helpless and indignant. He’s still dripping. “What the fuck is going on? A week ago it was emails about how much you missed me and meeting my fucking dad, and that’s it? You thought you could fucking ghost me? I can’t shut this off like you do, Henry.”
Henry paces over to the elaborately carved fireplace across the room and leans on the mantelpiece. “You think I don’t care as much as you?”
“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”
“I honestly haven’t got the time to explain to you all the ways you’re wrong—”
“Jesus, could you stop being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?”
“So glad you flew here to insult me—”
“I fucking love you, okay?” Alex half yells, finally, irreversibly. Henry goes very still against the mantelpiece. Alex watches him swallow, watches the muscle that keeps twitching in his jaw, and feels like he might shake out of his skin. “Fuck, I swear. You don’t make it fucking easy. But I’m in love with you.”
A small click cuts the silence: Henry has taken his signet ring off and set it down on the mantel. He holds his naked hand to his chest, kneading the palm, the flickering light from the fire painting his face in dramatic shadows. “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“Of course I do—”
“Alex, please,” Henry says, and when he finally turns to look at him, he looks wretched, miserable. “Don’t. This is the entire goddamned reason. I can’t do this, and you know why I can’t do this, so please don’t make me say it.”
Impressions
👍Worth reading
Great book
🔮Hidden Depths
💞Loved Up
👍Worth reading
🐼Fluffy
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