Now, truth be told, Henry should have seen it coming. The weather had been even more unpredictable than usual as of late, and that was saying something as it had been far from steady over the course of the last month. This was something that he and the weather shared, an annoying voice in the back of his mind insisted on more than one occasion, and while that bothered him just a little, he was more bothered by too many other things at the time to really think too much about it. Perhaps he should have, not on some deep psychological level, but rather on the level that meant if he listened he would not be currently drenched.
The poor doctor was soaked right down to the skin, despite the several layers he had chosen to wear to combat the wind, and he was shaking with more patheticness than a mid-autumn leaf. But even still, he did not let the smile he plastered so firmly wilt even for a moment. Had Edward not insisted his brief freedom was vital - and would not stop insisting in a way that made it difficult for Henry to carry on with his business - then he would not have had to delay his trip into town, and would have missed the downpour entirely. But hindsight was everything that reality was not, and so the doctor was splashing his way back to the Society, hunched over as best he could without drawing attention while still protecting the paperbound stack of books he was cradling so carefully to his chest to avoid them getting wet.
Henry would dry and be no more worse for wear after getting rained on, but even if they books could be dried quickly, if they got wet they would never be the same again.
The books were not his own, if they were he would not have had the same fear of their ruin as the only person to be disappointed would have been him, but he had promised to pick them up when he was out and he was not going to go back on his word. Admittedly, he had not intended to go out at all, but it made it seem like less of a fuss by saying he was already going to be in the area. There was no point in having people worry about inconveniencing him, as it would be completely worth the effort if - no, not 'if', 'when' - things all went well for them.
Unfortunately he was just a little too caught up in his thoughts he missed a leaf on the ground and after a less than dignified slipping - no really, he insists he merely slipped on a leaf, his head was clear and did not start spinning at all, and he especially did not actually stagger as a result - he only just managed to keep himself upright. Thankfully there was nobody else out - after all who else was foolish enough to want to walk about in a growing storm - and so there was nobody to see his disgraceful act, but he could still feel shame running down his arms, feeling more real than that of the rain that was making much the same pathways as the sensation was. Quite sure that somebody - everybody - saw him slip up and let his perceivable perfection waver, he glanced about the street, only just managing to hide the pathetic franticness in his wine coloured eyes. There was nobody there. Of course there was nobody there. It was raining. Nobody wanted to go out in the rain any more than they absolutely had to.
But he could still feel judgemental eyes burning into his skin with no remorse in sight.
"I'm sure you think you're doing a fine job of messing with my head," remarked the doctor, his voice so quiet it would not have fully counted as a whisper, freeing one had for just a moment to straighten his tie and coats, "But I'm afraid now is not the best time for your games,."
It was not always easy to tell the difference between the hallucinations and his already strange reality, but being able to delve deeper into the nature of them, he was able to say with some certainty that he was better at it than he once was. The crawling, invasive sensations that he had briefly been so sure had come from an external force had simply been a trick of his overtaxed mind. While he was not so sure they were Edward's doing anymore - they were as much his torment as they were the doctor's - at least he knew they were borne of something deep within himself, and meant he had some idea of how to manage himself. After all, he had managed to successfully repress everything he considered undesirable before and so there was no reason why he could not do it again.
Too bad it was precisely this mindset that had gotten him into this predicament in the first place, but that was another gift for the hindsight over actuality.
Once he had given himself the chance to collect himself a little more, regain the composure that was expected of a gentleman of his state and status, which took an alarmingly minimal amount of effort, he let out a deep breath. In the span of just a moment he went from paranoid yet real to a perfect doll.
Now, he did not want to stay out in the rain any longer than he needed to. Even if people did not consider it bizarre, and so if he was seen - he wasn't but the possibility never strayed from the back of his mind no matter what he was doing and where he was doing it - people might have considered him likewise bizarre, he would still want to hurry off. It was cold, he was cold, it was wet, he was wet, and he wanted to get back inside before too long, and so he carried on his hurried walk back.