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Summary
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Richard says apologetically, leaning back, clear of Henry’s personal space.
Henry’s eyes flit up at him in benevolent amusement, and to Richard’s surprise he smiles, looking for all the world like a God entertained by the hubris of his worshippers.
“Maybe,” Henry says slowly, “you should pry more often.”
A series of vignettes that could nestle themselves in the space between paragraphs.