Henry Hart x Y/N (firstperson)
The first time I really noticed it was during a study session.
Not noticed him—I’d noticed him for a long time. That wasn’t new. It was more like… noticing the way everything felt different when it was just the two of us.
We were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, textbooks spread out between us, pencils rolling around every time one of us shifted. The late afternoon light came in through the window at an angle, landing right across Henry’s face. He didn’t seem to notice. He was too focused, brows slightly furrowed, lips moving just a little as he reread the same sentence for the third time.
“You’ve read that paragraph like five times,” I said, tapping my pencil lightly against his book.
“I’m analyzing,” he replied, not looking up.
“You’re zoning out.”
He finally glanced at me, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “I can multitask.”
“Thinking about two things at once doesn’t count as multitasking.”
“Oh yeah?” he leaned back on his hands. “What do you think I’m thinking about?”
I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Definitely not biology.”
“Wow. You have so little faith in me.”
I smiled, but I looked back down at my notes before he could catch it for too long. Because if I held eye contact with him any longer than a second, something in my chest started doing things I didn’t know how to explain.
It was quiet for a bit after that. Not awkward quiet. Just… comfortable. The kind where you could hear pages turning, pencils scratching, the faint sound of a car passing outside.
I liked that kind of quiet.
I liked it more than I probably should’ve.
A little while later, I leaned over to grab my notebook and accidentally bumped his shoulder.
“Sorry,” I said quickly.
“It’s fine,” he replied, just as fast.
But neither of us moved away right away.
It was subtle. Barely anything, really. Just our shoulders touching.
Still, I became very aware of it.
The warmth. The fact that he didn’t shift away. The way my brain suddenly forgot whatever I had been studying.
I told myself to move.
I didn’t.
Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, pretending to reread a sentence I hadn’t processed at all.
“Hey,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Reading the same line over and over.”
I froze for half a second, then exhaled a small laugh. “Maybe I’m analyzing.”
He smiled a little at that, softer this time.
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”
Neither of us mentioned that we were still sitting too close.
Later, we ended up downstairs.
Ray was in the kitchen, loudly blending something that looked like it shouldn’t be blended.
“What is that?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
“A protein smoothie,” he said confidently.
Henry squinted at it. “It’s… gray.”
“It’s healthy,” Ray corrected.
“That doesn’t answer the concern,” I said.
Ray rolled his eyes. “You teenagers don’t appreciate innovation.”
“I appreciate not drinking something that looks like cement,” Henry muttered.
I laughed, and for a second, I forgot everything else. It just felt easy. Normal.
Ray slid the glass across the counter. “Try it.”
“No,” both Henry and I said at the same time.
We glanced at each other immediately after, both of us smiling without really meaning to.
“Wow,” Ray said. “You two are in sync. It’s unsettling.”
“We just both have common sense,” I replied.
“Speak for yourself,” Henry added.
I nudged his arm lightly. “Hey.”
He grinned.
And again, there it was—that feeling. That quiet, steady something that settled in my chest whenever he looked at me like that.
We ended up back in his room later, but studying had clearly stopped being the focus.
His textbook was closed now, sitting off to the side. Mine wasn’t even in reach anymore.
We were sitting on his bed this time, legs stretched out, talking about nothing important.
“I still think you made that story up,” I said.
“I didn’t make it up,” he insisted. “It actually happened.”
“There’s no way a pigeon just stole your sandwich and flew into a store.”
“It did.”
“Henry.”
“I’m serious!”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re such a liar.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” I said, smiling. “But it’s fine. It’s entertaining.”
He leaned back against the wall, watching me for a second longer than usual.
“Yeah?” he said quietly.
“Yeah.”
The room felt different again.
Not heavier. Not tense.
Just… quieter.
Like everything had slowed down a little.
I became very aware of how close we were sitting again. Closer than before. Close enough that if I shifted even slightly, our hands would brush.
My heart picked up, just a little.
I looked down, suddenly very interested in nothing at all.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing that thing again.”
I glanced up. “What thing?”
“You go quiet when you’re thinking too much.”
I huffed a small laugh. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said. “You always look like you’re about to say something, and then you don’t.”
I opened my mouth—
Then closed it.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
“I just… forget,” I said.
“You don’t forget,” he replied gently. “You just don’t say it.”
I met his eyes then.
And for a second, it felt like he could see right through me.
Like if I stayed there too long, everything I’d been trying not to say would just… come out.
“I’m saying it now,” I said, even though I wasn’t.
He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it?”
My heart was beating way too fast for something that should’ve been simple.
“It’s… nothing,” I said finally.
He held my gaze for another second.
Then he smiled, just a little.
“Okay,” he said.
But it didn’t feel like he believed me.
We didn’t move for a while after that.
No jokes. No teasing.
Just sitting there, close enough to feel it, quiet enough to notice it.
His hand shifted slightly on the bed, and for a brief second, his fingers brushed mine.
It was accidental.
Probably.
But neither of us pulled away right away.
My breath caught, just a little.
And I wondered—just for a second—if he felt it too.
