His boredom has always been a shadow he can't seem to outrun. It extends out long and wide behind him the brighter he shines, the more intensely he lives. But Henry's good at running. He has been his whole life. He can't stay still in one place for long anyway. It's why being a career Companion had been so appealing to him originally. It allowed him to explore a variety of extremes within the safety of a contract and provided a safe space for him to flee when he needed to.
And he always, always needed to.
Until the next time he needed a hit of course.
His leg is shaking, his knee bouncing up and down. The heel of his dirty white converse shoe tapping out a dull, rubbery tempo against the ground as he waits, one leg dangling off the side of the bed. He's leaned up against the headboard, limbs askew, the way a child might sprawl out when left unattended and free.
He's not nervous. But he is impatient.
This isn't the first time he's taken interest in a Patron, but it is the first time he's felt genuinely excited about meeting one. He didn't know very much about this Justin Baruch, other than what was obvious to all: he was handsome, wealthy, successful, blah blah. That wasn't what mattered to Henry of course. What mattered was this: he could recognize the way the man's smile had just the sharpest edge of falseness to it, how his eyes would sometimes fall softly blank despite a laugh rolling out of his chest at the same exact time. He could tell that Justin was the kind of man who had a lot to hide, someone who could never quite be satisfied. But why?
Henry rolls over onto his stomach, eager to find out as the door opens.
it's our party, we can love who we want
And he always, always needed to.
Until the next time he needed a hit of course.
His leg is shaking, his knee bouncing up and down. The heel of his dirty white converse shoe tapping out a dull, rubbery tempo against the ground as he waits, one leg dangling off the side of the bed. He's leaned up against the headboard, limbs askew, the way a child might sprawl out when left unattended and free.
He's not nervous. But he is impatient.
This isn't the first time he's taken interest in a Patron, but it is the first time he's felt genuinely excited about meeting one. He didn't know very much about this Justin Baruch, other than what was obvious to all: he was handsome, wealthy, successful, blah blah. That wasn't what mattered to Henry of course. What mattered was this: he could recognize the way the man's smile had just the sharpest edge of falseness to it, how his eyes would sometimes fall softly blank despite a laugh rolling out of his chest at the same exact time. He could tell that Justin was the kind of man who had a lot to hide, someone who could never quite be satisfied. But why?
Henry rolls over onto his stomach, eager to find out as the door opens.