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~ Nachts, wenn das Pendel der Liebe schwingt
zwischen Immer und Nie ~
~ Night, when the pendulum of love swings
from Always to Never and back ~
(Paul Celan)
Henry Cheng didn't do love.
Wait.
That wasn't true.
Henry Cheng did do love. He did love in sweet moments and ridiculous gestures. He did love by bringing mugs of coffee to everyone in Litchfield house when they were studying for exams, because he was making a pot for himself, so he might as well. He did love by putting up a banner and buying party poppers and throwing a whole party when Koh and Ryang finally got together.
He did love in ways that made people sigh, and grin. In ways that made people threaten to hate him, but love him in return nonetheless.
He did love in an intensely loyal way, sometimes. With Gansey, and then with Blue. He did love in a way he couldn't explain to himself.
What Henry Cheng didn't do, however, was romance.
He had tried, once. He had freaked out two days in and dumped the girl with a thousand apologies and never talked to her again, and had been glad when she hadn't talked to him either. Not that Henry hated her now, not that she had done anything wrong. He just didn't feel like he could look her in the eye. He felt bad. He felt awful.
So that had been his one experience with dating, and he'd been thirteen. He had thought that maybe it meant he was gay. The thought of kissing boys had always been there, it had never felt really wrong. So maybe.
But not quite. Not quite, because Henry knew he was still attracted to girls. He knew it with the certainty of one too many trains of thoughts lost because someone pretty had just walked by. He knew it from one too many fantasies of breasts pressing against his backside as he jerked someone else off.
But romance ? With girls, or with boys ? Nah-ah. Nope. Not his thing.
He thought about it, sometimes. Of course he did. There were entire days where nobody would shut up about it. But everytime he thought of that same girl when he'd been thirteen, of how she had been so happy to call him his boyfriend, how she had immediately been more generous with her attention, how she had felt like a different person, almost, just because of a silly word they had hung over their relationship.
And it felt wrong.
So Henry Cheng didn't do romance. But he did do love. Staring at Blue and Gansey from the back of their dream-camaro, it was undeniable that he did. He felt his chest swell with the feeling. He was so happy to be here. So happy to be here, with them. So glad that they were all alive and together and free, going on an adventure, not so much leaving Henrietta behind as putting it on hold so they could draw a well-needed breath. Henry felt happy, in the back of the Green Pig. He felt happy, alive, known, and a bit in love.
And that was a scary thing.
Scary, first, because Gansey and Blue were a couple. Because they were true loves, sanctioned by the stars or something. And Henry was the third wheel. The friend who was only here because he'd been the one to come up with the idea of a road trip in the first place. Only here because there would be no road-trip without him, not because they had wanted to do it with him.
Scary, second, because he didn't know what to do with the feeling. Because there were only so many ways to express that kind of love that were appropriate to traditional friendships. There were only so many times he could kiss them both on the cheek and make it seem like it was done jokingly, or in the heat of the moment, or that it was just a way to act cute.
Henry didn't know what to do with the feeling, because what he was doing now felt like it wasn't enough. He was happy, he really was, more than he had ever been with the weight of Seondeok's secrets weighing over him, with the knowledge that he always held something at arm's length from the people who thought they knew him. He was happy, but he was also being consumed from the inside. He felt like he was burning up. He felt restless and, worst of all, he felt jealous.
He watched Gansey and Blue kiss, something that had taken time for them to do, something that still felt a bit like forbidden territory. He watched them kiss, and part of him was full of pride, full of joy, full of everything nice. And the other part... the other part was an endless pit of twisted, dark things. He watched them kiss and felt jealous, lonely. And scared.
Henry knew how it went. Two people fell in love, and from one minute to the next, everything changed. Two people fell in love, and suddenly nothing existed beyond them. Two people fell in love, and the people around got left behind.
Henry was all too conscious of his precarious position. He was the last addition to their group of friends, the one they knew the least, the one they had the least shared past with. It would be too easy to leave him behind.
Henry would admit, if pressed, that he had developed a sort of morbid fascination with the subject. He had imagined the way it would happen several times.
Maybe slowly, the three of them losing contact through distance and busy schedules, skype calls and snapchats becoming less and less frequent until they all forgot each other. That wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it wouldn't hurt at all. (If pressed, Henry would also admit he spent a lot of time lying to himself.)
The other way it could happen was quickly. Like pulling a band-aid off. Except Blue and Gansey would be doing the pulling, and the pain of it would be all Henry's. They would stare him down at the end of the trip, thank him for all the fun, and wish him a good rest of his life. The bridges would be burned, the ashes neatly fitting into an urn to decorate Henry's mantelpiece.
Those were the two solutions, and Henry was satisfied with none of them. After years of watching from afar, years of feeling out of place, Henry would not give up on what he had finally found with Gansey and his friends.
So maybe he was trying to use this roadtrip as a way to consolidate his importance to Blue and Gansey. It was a distinct possibility. Except... except Henry didn't know how to make it work. Whatever he did, at the end of the day, Blue and Gansey were a couple, and Henry was destined to be single forever, and that made him the odd one out.
“What's eating at you?”
Henry jerked upwards as Blue poked his shoulder with her foot from where she was seated at the back of the dream Camaro. He had been lost in thought, watching the scenery pass without making a single funny comment about it. That was usually a bad sign. There were on their way to Charleston to see Fort Sumter, and Gansey had been excited because it was historical, and Blue had been excited because they would have to take a ferry. But now they were both quiet, and even Gansey was watching Henry out of the corner of his eye, although he pretended to be focused on the road.
Henry made a dramatic attempt at stretching his arms above his head. “I'm just a bit tired, Bluebell. Nothing that won't be fixed by a frappuccino, I'm sure.” He grinned, easily. A way of showing his teeth that managed to make him look harmless, counter-intuitive as that was. It was a practiced gesture, but one close enough to his natural smiles that people usually couldn't tell the difference.
“I don't need to be psychic to know there's something you're not telling us, Henry.”
Emphasis on usually.
“I'm fine,” he shrugged in reply. “I swear I'm fine.”
The car jerked suddenly to the right, surprising both Blue and Henry. Gansey had just pulled into a reststop without warning, and was now much more carefully stopping the car in the empty parking lot.
He turned to face Henry, ignoring the discomfort of the seatbelt biting into his shoulder. “Roadtrip rule number seven. No secrets.”
Gansey's voice left no room for question, being only one step off from his command voice, as Henry had started to call it. And it wasn't as if Henry could manage to get away from them when they were stuck in the same car in a shitty but conveniently accessible rest stop.
Still, it wasn't because he couldn't run away that Henry couldn't deflect.
“Actually, rule number seven is that we have to stop at a place that has a real shower at least once a week.”
“Henry.”
And that was yet half a step closer to the command voice, in just one word.
“I'm fine!” Henry lashed out. “I'm perfectly fine! It's not something you can do anything to fix, so why should I tell you and ruin everything? There's nothing to do about it, and I'm perfectly capable of doing nothing by myself!”
“Why don't you let us judge whether there's really nothing we can do?” Gansey asked, sounding so reasonable it made Henry's head hurt.
“Because if I tell you it could ruin things. Duh. That's what I just said. And then there would still be nothing to do.” And I would have lost everything, Henry doesn't say, doesn't dare say.
“What things?” Blue sounded confused and worried. This wasn't what Henry wanted. He wanted them not to have a single thing to worry about anymore. They had all worried enough in Henrietta. “What's at stake here that you're scared to tell us what's wrong?”
Henry groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. “Everything,” he finally answered. He was cornered, and they were asking him for honesty. So Henry would give them honesty. Pull off the band-aid, not matter how much it hurt. “You. Us.”
Blue frowned, and put a hand on his shoulder. “If there's something wrong that concerns all of us, you've got to tell us, Henry. You've got to let us at least try to help.”
“She's right,” Gansey continued. “If there's anything you're uncomfortable with, you need to tell us about it. We're basically living together right now. You can't let it rot inside you when we're right here.”
“There's nothing wrong. There's nothing wrong with you, it's... It's me. I'm the thing that's wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Blue asked, taking her hand off his shoulder and wrapping it around his fingers instead. Henry pulled away. More intimacy was the opposite of what he needed right now.
“I mean that you can't fix what's wrong because what's wrong is me and you can't fix that.”
“Why would you need to be fixed?” Gansey sounded outraged, righteous. Henry loved that Gansey. The Gansey who felt in his core that something wasn't right, and would do anything to make it better. Henry also hated it right now. He resented being Gansey's cause.
“I need to get out,” Henry said, struggling with his seatbelt and opening the car door.
They followed him, of course they did, until Henry sat down on the edge of a picnic table. He kind of wished he smoked, so he could light a cigarette and have something to do with his hands.
Blue and Gansey were staring, waiting.
Henry was trying not to shake.
“I love you,” Henry blurted out in one jumbled word.
Blue frowned. “Duh.”
“No, no,” Henry shook his head again, frustrated, because he couldn't put words to what he meant to say. It was a familiar feeling, but it usually happened less with Blue and Gansey, he usually felt understood with them. “That's not what I mean. I mean I like-love you. I like-like you. I mean that you're not just my friends, you're my home.”
“Henry, what does that-”
But he wasn't done. Not now that he had finally started saying all of it.
“And it's crazy. It's crazy because for one you're this magical couple literally brought together by fate. And it's crazy for two because I just don't do romance. I don't do romance or relationships or any of it. So how can I love you? How can I love you? That's the million dollar question. Because all I know is that what I've been doing so far is not working.”
Blue and Gansey were still awkwardly standing side by side. They exchanged a look, trying to silently communicate. Henry crossed his arms over his chest, shivering and miserable. He was used to keeping secrets. He didn't like how vulnerable sharing this made him feel.
“What would you have us do?” Gansey asked, calmly. There was no disgust in his voice, no anger or resentment. Just confusion and a facade of calm.
“What?”
“You said you don't do relationships. So I'm guessing that that's not what you want from us.”
“Why would you even-”
It was Blue who interrupted him this time. “Polyamorous relationships are a thing. I don't know about Gansey, but I'm not... opposed to the idea. In theory. But that's not what you were talking about, right?”
Henry shook his head.
“So what could we do?” Gansey asked. “You say something is not working. That something's wrong. So... without considering whether we would do it, whether we will do it... In an ideal world, what could we do? To help? To make you feel more comfortable with us?”
“I can't... I can't ask... I don't know...”
“In an ideal world, Henry,” Blue tried to reassure him. “Don't think about it too much.”
“Just...” Henry felt a sob rise up in his throat. It took him a few seconds to get enough air in his lungs and to make sure his tears wouldn't spill over when he talked. “Don't leave me behind.” He finally managed, just above a whisper.
“Henry...” Blue reached out, and Henry let her do it. He didn't react, didn't even look at her. He couldn't think about anything other than the ugly truth of all this. Gansey and Blue. Perfect and beautiful and made for each other. The clear sky, nice weather for an october morning. And Henry's insecurities at their feet, disgusting and raw, absurd and out of place. How could he ask for this, for a place with them, when this is what he brought with him?
He felt like he couldn't breathe, but he wouldn't start crying now. He didn't want their pity. It would just make everything worse.
Blue's hand was moving from his arm to his shoulder, then she was cradling his face, slowly forcing Henry to look at her. He did, and her brown eyes were warm, but with a sharp edge of determination. “We don't want to.”
And Henry couldn't help himself. His tears spilled over, and he had to close his eyes, because it was too much. Being here with them was too much. The way Blue's words rung true, the way they didn't contain anything that she didn't believe in. Henry couldn't bear it, so he let himself cry.
Blue didn't pull away like he expected her to. Instead she slowly stroked one of his cheeks, then wrapped her arms around his waist. Henry sagged forward before he could think about it, sobbing into Blue's hair. He felt her start to shake as well, crying too, and then Gansey was awkwardly joining them, sitting next to Henry on the picnic table and slowly rubbing circles on his back. Gansey let his head drop onto Henry's shoulder after a while, and they all stayed like that until their sobs had quieted.
The air tasted different now. Colder and wilder, like a knife that brought life instead of death.
“I'm okay,” Henry whispered, and Gansey and Blue both slowly peeled themselves off him. They still hovered, not touching but well within his personal space.
“Can I ask...” Gansey started. He didn't finish his sentence, but it was clear what he meant. Can we talk about this? Can I ask you more questions? Can you help me understand?
That was Gansey. Always trying to understand everything. Endlessly facinated by people like Blue or Glendower, because they were so impossible, because they dared defy him.
And Henry, Henry, who yearned to be something more but also to be known, was in love with this scholar of a boy in a way that felt dangerous.
How could he refuse him anything? So Henry nodded. Ask away. Take my secrets. Puzzle me out, please, I beg you.
“Why would you think we would...” Henry clenched his fist. Blue noticed this, and took his hand, forcing it open so she could slid her fingers between his. “... leave you?” Gansey finished, voice unsure.
Henry took a long breath.
“That's how the story goes. That's how it always goes. You're true loves. I'm... I don't even love right. I love too much and not enough at the same time. I don't have... that.” He gestured vaguely between them, pointing at Gansey, then Blue, at Blue, then Gansey. “You've got everything. Why would you need me?”
“And what if we want you?” Gansy asked. Blue tightened her grip on Henry's hand. “What if we want you to stay? What if we want to listen to your weirdly specific playlists and your running commentary about the inner life of pigeons and your silly jokes that only work in Korean and... What if...” Gansey stopped, closing his mouth. He was frowning. “Are we really fated to leave you behind? Don't we get a say in that? Doesn't it matter what we want?”
“Fuck fate,” Blue interjected, something savage in her eyes. Of course. She knew everything about the pain of letting fate decide your future. Knew how difficult it was to fight against it. But Blue couldn't not fight. Blue was a star, impossibly bright. So pretty you forgot she was on fire. And Henry was in love with her, against all of his instincts, not caring if he got burnt. Because it was worth it to experience how alive Blue made him feel.
“I have to agree with Blue,” Gansey continued. “Fuck fate.” The words had a comical quality in his mouth, possibly because he looked dead serious while saying them. “If we let it dictate our lives it won't... we won't ever try anything.”
“That would be a shit life,” Blue acknowledged.
Henry managed a small smile. Oh, how much he loved them. Despite everything telling him it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but love them.
“We might not have...” Blue gave Gansey a meaningful look. “We might not have with you what we have between us. We might not love you in the same way. But that doesn't mean we don't love you.”
Gansey put one of his hands on Henry's cheek, turning his face towards them. Henry looked into his eyes, a lighter brown that Blue's and with a circle of green around the iris. Gansey's gaze was intense, focused.
“We love you,” he said. In that voice. That voice that couldn't be contradicted. That voice that didn't just tell the truth, but defined it as well.
Henry had to close his eyes, feeling new sobs rise in his throat. It was impossible not to believe Gansey when he spoke like this, and yet... Henry didn't know what to feel, what to trust, what to think. He wanted to let himself be carried by this moment, by Gansey's hand on his cheek and the echo of his words. But had he ever been good at that? He was so used to keeping a layer of meaning hidden behind all of his actions. His spontaneity, his whole life was an act. Could he trust this not to be?
“Henry,” Gansey whispered, like it was a prayer, like he was begging.
Henry opened his eyes, vision blurry with tears.
“We love you.”
Then there were lips on his own, dry but soft. Henry was too surprised, too confused, to close his eyes again, and so he kept watching as Gansey kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, just a press of lips, a reassuring presence that lasted a few seconds.
And then Blue was tugging on his hand, and so Henry turned towards her. She got up on her toes and pulled on his sweater to have him bend down, and then she was kissing him too, in the same soft way.
“There's one silver lining to all of this,” Blue said once she had pulled away. “You won't die if I kiss you. Which is good. I honestly don't care much for true loves if I have to watch them die all the time.”
All that Henry could hear when she said it was I don't want you to die. So he nodded. “Okay.”