strings attached ; firstprince

chapter four

"He's been cut off if that's any indicator," The girl offers, shooting Alex a concerned look. Alex gives her a knowing smile, looking back to Henry who's eyes are drooping.

"I should take you home," Alex says to Henry.

Henry looks at the girl. "Is that okay, Sab?"

"Yes, Henry. I'll be fine," She replies, an amused grin on her face. Alex can't help but smile at the interaction.

"Thank you," The girl, Sab, says to Alex.

"Thank you," Alex replies, smiling gratefully.

Henry only stumbles a few times on the walk to Alex's car, although he's too caught up in his soliloquy on how Jane Austen is a pioneer in fiction to notice. Alex listens carefully the whole time, smiling softly as he watches how animated Henry gets when he talks about something he's passionate about.

"Could we get an ice cream?" Henry asks the moment they're seated in the car. How can Alex say no when his eyelashes flutter prettily and his face glows when he says yes? While going through a McDonald's drive-through, Henry happily recalls the events of his night whilst Alex simultaneously battles with his inner turmoil.

Alex wasn't meant to like him. But he does. So much so that whenever Henry smiles or talks, he feels his heart beat against his ribcage. On the drive back to their dorms, Alex is quiet. He listens to Henry talk in between licks of ice cream and he feels himself becoming so enamoured by him. It makes him feel physically ill.

"What made you choose music?" Henry asks without any preamble. They both finished their ice cream on the drive while silence had settled comfortably during the last few minutes of the drive.

Alex pulls his handbrake once he's finished parking his car and glances up at him. "Sorry?"

"I mean, you're studying to be a music teacher, right?" Henry asks. "Why did you choose to pursue it?"

"I mean, I just really enjoy listening to and creating music, and being able to teach it would be amazing. My high school music teacher really stuck with me," Alex says. He takes a deep breath. "But, I would love to make a living out of making music, it's just... I can't really rely on it working out."

"I think you're amazing," Henry tells him earnestly. Alex leans his head back on the car seat headrest, turning his head so he's still looking at Henry.

"You've heard my stuff?" Alex asks dubiously.

"Don't you remember our delightful meeting?" Henry asks, a hint of a smile on his lips. Alex reminds himself to blink, to look at his eyes instead of Henry's mouth.

"Oh, right..." Alex says softly. "You surprised me."

"Surprised you how?" Henry asks, lips quirking.

"You're not as snobby as I thought you were," Alex grins. The car windows begin to fog up around them and Alex can only hear his own heartbeat apart from their voices.

"I seem to get that impression a lot," Henry muses, his smile fading a little.

"Well, I was wrong," Alex tells him, inhaling deeply. "And they are wrong."

Henry offers a small smile but his distant, dull eyes break the facade. The sight sends a painful pang through his chest. How could he be so wrong about him?

"Why did you choose to study to be an English literature teacher?" Alex asks quietly as if to not disturb the peace. The air feels palpable between them, their breaths only becoming hotter.

Henry hums thoughtfully, turning his head to stare at the dashboard. "I want to be a writer, but like you said, I can't exactly rely on that working out either... I just want to make something of myself that I didn't get by being my Father's son."

Alex hums.

"And I do love literature," Henry adds, turning his head back to look at Alex. Alex's face feels numb.

"I think you would be an amazing writer," Alex says without thought. "I like how you talk and the words you say."

"Do you?" Henry asks with a small smile.

"Yeah," Alex responds, suddenly breathless.

They're sat centimetres apart staring at each other, right in the eyes, the glow of moonlight dancing across their faces. Alex's head feels heavy, he wants to be closer but he doesn't move.

Henry leans closer, his smile faded and replaced with an intense stare which Alex knows he shares. The air feels charged and staticky, and Alex feels like his heart may palpitate if Henry gets any closer.

So of course, Henry shifts closer, his eyes flicker to his lips and Alex can feel heat like fire course through his neck, his chest, his cheeks. Alex wants to move closer so badly, more than anything, but he knows he shouldn't. Henry is drunk, and Alex isn't. This isn't how it should be.

Please don't kiss me Alex repeats in his head like a mantra. Not like this.

Henry moves his face so close that Alex can feel his breath brush his skin and it tingles all the way down his spine. Alex can't do this, there's no denying what's happening and he can't let him do it like this.

Alex clears his throat, tilting his head away to stare ahead of him. "I think you should go to bed... You've had a lot to drink."

Alex can't even bear to look at Henry, the sight of him retracting in his peripheral vision is enough to kill him. When he finally looks back, Henry's eyes are reserved and guarded, and when he exhales, it comes out forcefully and shaken.

"Right," Henry says, too sharp, too bitter. Alex feels his chest tighten painfully. "Goodnight, Alex."

The sound of Henry slamming the car door behind him is deafening.