Henri waited until Gen was out of sight to dig into his pocket and pull out a slim stainless steel cigarette case. He pulled out one of them and held it between his lips as he lit it. After a few long drags and letting the nicotine set, he was finally able to think clearly. The whole ordeal with Raiden had been such a mess. Just thinking about it was making him even more stressed, no matter how many puffs of smoke he took in. So he stopped thinking about it altogether. He could pretend it hadn't happened. Pretend it had just been some stupid thing his mind had made up and go on with the ball as nothing had happened.
"I'm just going crazy..." Henri let out an exasperated sigh as he watched the smoke of his cigarette drift off into the wind. He could always sneak away and go to his room. Elias wouldn't notice, not now that he was probably drunk and flirting with some random princess. Henri hadn't even greeted his betrothed, and he was already planning to escape the ball. How classy and considerate of him, like always.
After lighting another cigarette, Henri began to walk around the edges of the garden in hopes of avoiding any other wondering royals that sneaked out. Of course, he didn't notice the familiar figure a few feet away from him as he stared off into space.
With his stop-Arabelle-from-starting-a-war mission deemed a success, the Mediterranean Prince descended on the crudites, the tzatziki, and houmous a small home comfort - although obviously not a patch on Hellenican produce. He’d then completed a lap of introductions and well-wishing, checking specific political targets off a mental list for his father.
Feeling accomplished, he watched the confusing body language of Alejandro and Philip from across the room as he waited at the bar. Well, that might explain some things if true. But Phillip? He wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, there were all his supposed ‘friends,’ Ali, Raiden, Rhys, before him, and they had all seemingly dropped off the face of the Earth if his phone were evidenced. Surrounded by so many peers, yet here he stood alone at the bar. He felt the discomfort settle; his heart pick up a beat and lump rise in the back of his throat. Mind fogged, his eyes lost focus middle-distance as he stared across the ice in his crystal tumbler.
An enthusiastic toast from a loud, buxom Duchess snapped him out of his pit as quick as he’d fallen in. He swallowed his feelings and washed them further down with a large ‘sip’ of his cocktail. He plastered a smile on his face once more as he blinked away some moisture. How ridiculous. He was a prince for God’s sake. A good looking, world-famous, well-loved royal with hundreds of thousands of followers. How could he be lonely?
Caipirinha in hand, he toasted the older statespeople beside him and slipped out a side door, hurrying to find some fresh air. He promptly found the gardens and stepped outside to fill his lungs with fresh air. After a long exhale, he opened his eyes and was startled to see Henri only a few yards away, Chris having obviously stepped out into his path. Fuck.
“Henri,” he nodded with a peevish smile.
“You really ought to stop with those cancer sticks, you know…” he continued with a pursed-lip and furrowed brow. Yeah, he was pissed off at the bespectacled blonde before him, but he didn’t want his childhood friend to go the same way as both his grandfathers.
"Chris." Henri had halted in his tracks when he heard the familiar voice of the Hellenican prince. He hadn't expected anyone to be in the gardens yet, let alone be the man who he had abandoned. Henri's heart gave a harsh tug when he remembered that detail of their estranged relationship. He opened his mouth to give him a snide reply, but he fell short on the words to say to Chris. The evening had already turned sour, and he wasn't about to exacerbate his reunion with Chris with some offhand comments.
Instead, Henri took one last drag from his cigarette and threw it on the stoned path, extinguishing it with his foot.
"You're right," He walked over to the man, hands fiddling with one of the adorned buttons on his blazer. He could feel all the previous thoughts rushing back as he stared at Chris in front of him. He'd miss him. Henri had missed their late-night conversations, their unexpected trips to the wilderness, and their shared love for games.
"Guess I haven't changed." Henri stopped in front of Chris, fingers tugging at the button.
"Chris-" He wanted to apologize, but he didn't even know where to start. Henri never did well in confrontation, be it of any kind. He must look pathetic in front of his friend. Were they even friends anymore?
Chris was unusually lost for words. He’d at least expected some cutting sarcasm or dry wit from his old friend. Henri must be feeling guilty. Good. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t have slept with Henri if he’d have known this was going to be his reaction. But was one drunken night really worth throwing away a childhood friendship and sullying a myriad of teenage memories…?
But at his friend’s awkward approach, Chris’ righteous indignation melted away. The awkward button fumble that he’d mocked that very night in London. The tousled blonde locks. The faint whiff of expensive cigarette smoke. But he still had to know…
”Why Henri?” he couldn’t help but ask. His knuckles whitened as they tightened around his glass.
”Just answer me that.” Henri knew that question was coming. He had avoided answering that for so long, and now he couldn't run away. Not again. That night Henri had taken off without a word. He hadn't texted or called Chris. He'd simply left the hotel after Chris had and headed back home, all the while cursing himself. Henri knew what he had done had been wrong and utterly idiotic of him. He thought he could buy himself time to think, to really think about what he felt for Chris, but by the time he had finally figured it out, it had been months already.
"I was scared." Henri started, eyes drifting away from Chris' face to the glass he held in his hand. He could see the white forming on his knuckles. He took a deep breath.
"I- I needed time. Time to think. I couldn't confront you because I was afraid you were you going to tell me it had meant nothing." Henri's voice cracked on the last word. He knew it was selfish. He knew he hadn't considered Chris, and for that, he felt the guilt weighing down on him. He had so desperately wanted it to mean something that he was so afraid to face Chris again.
And there it was. Chris’ heartstrings well and truly plucked. Of course, Henri had been scared. They’d been childhood family friends and then slept together. Chris was still unsure about Henri’s sexuality as a whole and whether or not he’d been his first… And he couldn’t blame Henri for thinking that he’d just been another notch on the bedpost. Chris didn’t think he’d ever ‘loved’ someone romantically, but his connection with Henri and the passion of that one night had been the closest he’d come to the possibility of love growing and also feeling as though the relationship would actually be accepted by his family. If only Henri had replied to Chris’ messages though, they could have sorted all of this out months ago.
Chris reached out with his free hand to hold Henri’s, his thumb tracing circles on the back.
”How could anything I do with you mean nothing?” he asked.
“What can I say to get ‘us’ back?” Hearing those words lifted up something in Henri's chest. He compelled his eyes to look back at Chris when he felt the warmth of his hand on his own. Henri was really an idiot. The biggest idiot of them all. Chris was really asking
him what he could do to make things better? Henri shook his head, his fingers tightening around Chris'.
"I should be the one saying that," Henri glanced down at their hands and let a small smile slip into his lips.
"You didn't do anything wrong, I-" He hadn't expected this reaction from Chris, and Henri couldn't get his thoughts straight. His voice was still cracking, and his vision was starting to blur.
"I'm sorry- I'm an idiot. I don't know how to make you believe me that I truly am sorry for abandoning you." Would his apology even be worth anything now?
The wave of relief released at Henri’s apology swept away all misgivings inside Chris’ mind.
”Apology accepted I suppose if we’re both stuck here together,” he replied with his winning smile has he pulled his friend in for one of his bear hugs.
”At least you got one thing right…” he joked as they embraced.
”You are a real vlákas.” Henri was taken aback as he was pulled into an embrace by Chris. He didn't resist it and instead wrapped his arms around the man as the weight of guilt lifted off his shoulders. Just like that, Chris had accepted his apology? That easy? Henri laughed at Chris' words, his face pressed against the man's shoulder.
"I am." Chris had all right to call him a fool and an idiot. Henri didn't care now that he had his friend back.
The normality of hugging his friend once more prompted such an upwelling of emotion that he had to bite back a cathartic outburst of laughter. He slowly unwrapped his arms from the blonde, the nostalgic scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke, transporting him back to their teenage years but also that one damn night. He held both of Henri’s hands in his and held his gaze.
”So what was it?” he continued.
“What happened?” Chris had spent nearly a year, ruminating on the possibilities. Was it because Henri saw him as an older brother figure? A trust that had been quickly ripped apart like their suits that evening? Was Henri still under the thrall of his royal responsibility and older brother’s scorn like Chris had once been himself? Had it been Henri’s...first time? Was it because they were family friends? Or had Henri been in a relationship, and Chris been a mistress for the night? Time and loneliness meant the acceptance of Henri’s apology had formed quickly on the Hellenican prince’s lips. But as Leo’s business mind had taught him well, everything had a price. In this case, the price of renewed friendship was the truth.
Henri had to pry his eyes away from Chris when he heard the question. What had happened? Henri had fallen in love with his childhood friend. Someone who he had known all of his life, someone who he trusted and confided in. He had been so scared that Chris would tell him that their night together had meant nothing that he had run away. It had taken Henri weeks to come to that realization, and yet being the coward, he was Henri never confronted Chris. Regret always plagued Henri's mind.
"I can't..." Henri bit his lip. If he spoke those words out loud, he'd bring those feelings back too. It wouldn't be fair for Chris or himself- or Raiden. Right, Raiden. Henri hesitated for a second before pulling back his hands from Chris at the thought of the Prince of Xi'n.
Chris’ tide of positivity receded as fast as it had risen. What had he even been hoping for? That Henri would say that he thought he loved him too? That night had just been so different from any other. With Ali, there weren’t any feelings involved, and with Raiden, it had been a fun fling whilst abroad. But with Henri...there had been...something. That early morning taxi through the quiet London streets, he’d dared to think that what he felt was love. But only time would tell. But every subsequent attempt to meet up with Henri had been met with silence or thinly veiled excuses. Chris had just put it down to alcohol, great sex, and the fact that he and Henri shared so many similarities. But now he was stood in front of him again…
“Henri,” Chris implored,
“Please talk to me.” If his feelings weren’t mutual, then at least he had to know what had gone wrong, so the next time he fell for someone, it could be avoided. But no one else was Henri.
“What it anything I did or said? Our family relationship? A mistake?” Chris let go of Henri’s hand and drained his drink.
Henri shook his head- no, Chris was perfect. He was a good man, a man he could trust and a man that he loved. Still loved to this day despite the distance Henri had put between each other. Despite his current relationship with Raiden.
"It's not about you." He explained,
"I fucked up, okay? I fucked up so bad. I was so fucking dense and stupid and- and dumb!" He pulled back and turned away from Chris to reach into his pocket. All of his thoughts came tumbling down on his again. The rush of emotions hit him like a ton of bricks. He wanted so bad to tell Chris, but he couldn't explain it. All he could do was curse himself.
"Ha, royally fucked up." He scoffed at his own comment while fumbling with the cigarette case.
Chris looked up to the sky and squeezed his eyes shut. This was infuriating. Henri had absolved him of any guilt or mistake. So why did he still feel as tense about their relationship as he had when the day began? He inhaled deeply. There were a few options. One - if he loved Henri, he’d offer his support and walk away to let him process. Two - if he loved Henri, he’d keep pushing for an answer to help him process. Three - if he loved Henri, he’d walk away and not involve him with Chris’ messed up life. He exhaled with a deep sigh.
Fuck. He couldn’t decide.
“Fine.” he finally said after a heavily pregnant pause.
“You win.” He raised his empty glass at Henri.
“I’ll stop.” His voice broke with sorrow as it rose in anger.
“Decide what you want and then come and find me.” he turned back to stride into the palace,
“Or don’t. Your choice.” He headed back through the open French doors he’d emerged from mere moments earlier, blinking his moistened eyes as he pressed his chilled glass against his forehead.
”God I need a drink.”