Work Text:
It's when I am finally discharged from the hospital that I notice a slight change in Henry's behaviour. His posture seems less stiff, the slope of his shoulders visibly relaxed, the upward curve of his lips, after my attempts to joke about the state of my health, more genuine. I start to wonder what caused such changes and why did I notice them anyway. I tired to explain it to myself that he is relieved not to be obliged to spend whole days in the hospital with me. This is why I am utterly stunned when he says this.
"You're staying with me for the time being." We are in his car. It is still cold inside and my breaths form warm clouds of steam. My reply comes a second too late. "Oh, no, it's-"
"I know you would try to oppose so I didn't ask." He looks at me now, his eyes clear and bright, reflecting the light from the street lamps.
"I don't want to disturb you." I utter quietly as he fixes his eyes on the road and starts the engine. I am well aware how he values his peace, and just imagining him having to share a space with me fills me with remorse. I would be nothing more than an obstacle on his path. Such vision embarrassed me more than it probably should. His peace is dearer to me than my own.
He didn't respond to this. I wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that he has already done more than enough and that yes, I was tremendously grateful that he did not just dump me at the hospital but spent his time with me, but he should not trouble himself further on my behalf. Instead, I felt flustered and my palms started to sweat. I glanced in his direction but then immediately pretended to inspect my nails.
We drove all the way to his apartment in silence and when we arrived, I reluctantly got off the car. Henry was already holding a bag with my belongings in his hand and was looking at me expectantly. We were standing on the opposite sides of the car. This is when I figured out that what I felt was actually fear. But the fear of what? What did I fear?
For a few seconds our eyes met. Henry looked away and shifted from one foot to another, a gesture I had never seen him do, as he was nervous or did not know what to say.
"Don't just stand here out in the cold. I'm not coming back to that hospital." He said rapidly, turning his back to me and walking towards the entrance of the building. All I could do was listen to him, like I always do.
The time seemed to slow down as we were walking upstairs and I struggled to remember a time I was more anxious than now. I looked up to see Henry, walking steadily up the stairs without any visible sign of fatigue. Upon examining his figure I noticed how my lungs struggled to keep up with the pace but I didn't want to be left behind. Because I felt that if I did slow down, Henry would disappear around the corner and I would never see him again.
We entered the apartment and I looked around, confused. My heavy breaths filled the silence between us but I regained my composure as soon as Henry closed the door behind us. I didn't know what I was doing here and felt completely lost in a space I knew so well. Henry began to pull his coat off but stopped when he looked at me. He furrowed his brows and put his hands down. I noticed how he flexed his palms. Henry knew. He knew that I was uneasy, that I wanted to run away.
It was the first time in the few months I've known him that I saw his face making this expression. His eyes were fixed on mine, his lips slightly parted. I wanted to say something and took a deep breath but then Henry made a sudden step towards me.
"I'll take care of you." His voice was so quiet I was sure I wouldn't hear him if we stood even an inch farther from each other. I didn't know how to respond. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze and utterly embarrassed of what I've just heard. Something like this coming from his lips felt unreal. The floor was burning my feet and I was desperate to move but I stood still instead. I thought the image of Henry looking after me was the most humiliating thing he could do to himself. I knew that my health state was not good and that I still needed assistance in many areas but I didn't want to strain him too much. His peace over mine, I repeated in my mind.
In this brief moment in which I took a breath to respond to him, I realized what I feared. I feared that I will end up liking the whole situation. Me and Henry spending time alone, his quiet presence in the apartment. His figure moving from the kitchen to the living room, to his bedroom. I feared that I will end up liking to observe him during the times of the day I haven't got the chance do to so. I feared that nothing will be the same after this. I feared that I will ruin what we have.
"It's rotten work." I said, a bit louder, shaking my head and then glancing to the side. I felt his gaze lingering on my face for a moment and after this, he lowered his head. I swallowed hard and looked down too.
Henry pursed his lips as if he fought back the words that wanted to come out. I knew he was looking at me again, I always seemed to feel the exact moment his eyes landed on me. He gently shrugged his shoulders as if it was a sign of helplessness and slightly tilted his head to the side. "Not to me. Not if it's you."
With it I suddenly raised my head. I tried to study his expression but it was the expression I knew so well, the same stoic, blank face showing no emotion at all or every emotion at once. The expression he had after telling the truth. And I believed him, like I always do.