While ur having fun laughing waiting for new years eve remember that the snow in the mountains was melting and bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.
Evil bitches will watch a dead poets society edit on tiktok ONE time and act like they're misunderstood weird girls with esoteric tastes. bitch sit down.
i arise one clod night in November to a hushed creak from the hallway. it was a Sunday night and we all got heavily drunk, its unlike me to drink anything stronger than red wine in the country house, but the malicious feeling fogged my better judgment of place and time.
i opened my eye slightly to check my watch, it was half past three. dragging my heavy limbs i rose from the bed to hear a groan. apparently i was so wasted i fell asleep next to bunny, he had his glasses crocked over his face i leaned and took them off and placed them by the bed.
my bate legs felt the breeze walking through the foyer, i rubbed my eyes and poured myself some water and went to make a call. somehow, i had to let the translation club head office that i won’t be there until noon, that if i even show up.
“yes,” i whispered in a raspy tired voice like i had a cold. “i believe the sudden change of weather struck me this time, sir.” i said to dr. Hultman, a mid thirty research professor who was on the clock at the moment and luckily, whose son was the director for the club.
setting down by the glass walk through door that was cracked slightly open more and more as the wind blew by, i turned slightly to see a full moon lighting over the whole garden. i stared at it till Dr. Hultman had finished his speech for good health specially for us youngsters, i saw a tall figure coming into vision closer and clearer by the second. Henry, in his cargo pants and white T-shirt, and gardening gloves with one hand as the other held his cigarette. he wasn’t looking ahead, rather at his steps. once he came into my line of vision, he looked up and saw me. we stared at each other a moment too long, he leaned on one hip catching his breath. i could see the sweat dripping in crystal beads from his undone hair and over his thick eyebrows. his ran the back of his hand over his forehead, and took a drag while keeping his eyes locked on me.
“are you still there, ms. Fontaine?” said the voice from the receiver resting on my ear. i blinked gaining back consciousness.
“y-yes” i said through a small cough. “if you’d excuse me for now, i’d like to rest.” i whispered turning away from henry. “thank you” i said as i hung up. in a beat, i turned again.
“what are you doing?” i asked henry who was still keeping his stare intent on me.
“gardening.” he answered through a cloud of smoke.
“Francis has people hired for that” i taunted, he cannot be serious. he grinned, and threw his cigarette and stomped it down before he came in through the sliding door past me.
“not here. at my house.” he put his gloves down, took off his muddy shoes and went to the kitchen to fix himself a drink.
the car was dead cold in the driveway..
“you walked there?!” my voice came out rather louder than i intended and with much more shock than it needed to for this matter. he turned from the cupboard, brows raised as he poured his scotch.
“yes, i walked to my house and came back. is that a problem to you?”
i rolled my eyes slightly at his attitude, but sat on the counter next to where he was resting his drink.
“no, it is not a problem to me.” my answer reeked of malus. “its just that you make fun of me constantly for walk rather than driving and you live more than an two hours from here.”
“an hour and a half.” he corrected as he sipped his drink. “i don’t make fun of you, i don’t understand you in that matter.”
“yeah okay” i said as i hopped down and went to lie down on the couch. being hungover and on the brinks of a hellish cold while arguing with henry seemed too much of a bother.
i lie down on my back, arm over my eyes and my legs bare from mid thigh. i sighed trying to fall back asleep since its still dark out at least.
“if you’re going to lay down like that at least go to the guest room.” he said, standing at the doorway.
“mmhm…” i groaned remembering that bunny is probably sleeping veridically by now. ugh, my sweet bed…
“are you sick?” henry asked, his voice low and ripe after his sip of scotch.
i didn’t answer this time.
Henry put his drink down, and crouched by my head. i didn’t move, he rested his head with a sigh close to my shoulder. i rolled to my side, staring, not saying a word. he lifted his head up, glasses sliding down his sharp nose, eyes doe and grey under the faint light, and if the alcohol doesn’t fog my vision at the moment, i’d say he was pouting.
“who were you whispering to on the phone earlier?”
“hm?” my brows knotted.
“just answer me.” he said in a frustrated tone. oh? he’s sulking? after what he did? thats rich, i thought.
“you have someone in mind, don’t you?” i smirked teasingly. “don’t go quiet on me now, you were so full of questions just a second ago. who do you think i was calling at three in the morning?”
he was silent for a beat then, with a slight glimpse of bitterness in voice: “it was Hultman, wasn’t it?” he wasn’t even looking at me when he said it.
“yes,” i grinned “it was Hultman.” i said, not clarifying which one. his eyes shot back to mine, he saw me smiling it annoyed him.
“luckily i was talking to Doctor Hultman, not the other loser.” i couldn’t hold it back now, i burst out laughing clutching my stomach it hurt so badly and laughing didn’t help but i couldn’t hold it anymore. “god, you should see your stupid face!” i muttered out. henry straightened his back, pushing his glasses up, and sipped his drink. then, he stood up and sat where my legs had been once.
“hey, dummy” i said pushing him with my leg. “give me a cigarette.” he glared at me, then reached in pocket, took one out of the pack, leaned over me and placed it between my lips. flared a match into light and lit my cigarette. i took the first drag and blew it out slow and heavy into his face, he didn’t move. he simply closed his eyes slightly clutching his jaw, then retreated back to where he originally was.
“why are you even jealous of Jamie? he’s way below you.” i wiggled my leg as i spoke. he didn’t answer. he knows that denying would lead him nowhere.
“why were you whispering on the phone?”
“my throat hurst and i had just woke up. what made you go all the way home and back just to garden? could’ve done that tomorrow.” i said as i stretched my legs over his lap.
“its supposed to rain this morning so i went to take care of it beforehand.” he said, yet his answer lingered for a second. “besides, i could not sleep… bunny was next you instead of me.”
oh wow… i want to laugh so badly but i can’t, he sounded sincere this time.
“oh? jealous of good ol’ bun now?” i teased, his face flustered from the booze painted another beautiful pout. slowly, i took his silence as an answer and prompt myself on his lap, legs cradling both sides of him. my sleep shirt was barely even holding place now its as good as gone.
i blew another cloud on his face, he turned beet-red this time.
“jealousy suits you very well” i held the cigarette between my fingers as i began to play with his messed up hair and slide my fingers down his jaw, lingering over his Adam’s apple.
i looked up to see his eyes glazed with the same lust that was coating my mind. i leaned and kissed him, henry pushed me slightly.
“if you let me begin don’t cry to me later begging me to stop.” he said, i grinned. the mouth on this one…
“fuck me harder when i do.” before i even finished that sentence henry grabbed me by the neck devouring me like i was his only source of oxygen. our lips clashing, tongues relishing each other’s sweetness, the sound of pure lust echoing the room.
i moan pushing my head back so i could breath, but henry was in a state of hunger, he lurched to my neck like it was his last meal. biting, sucking, kissing, one hand holding me head by the head in a fist as the other traveled under my clothes up to my breasts he squeezes one then down to hold my hips in place as i grind on his growing boner.
“fuck—“ i gasp out. henry stops and let go of my hair just to hold my face with one hand. “you’re so loud” he stretches out his words tauntingly as he chuckles.
what the fuck happened to the flustered pouty boy who looked like he could cum just by one kiss ???? i was losing my mind, half drunk and sick, and henry was of no help.
“now,” said “promise to be quiet for me?” he was looking up to me straight into my eyes. i nodded. “good” he replied. in one move before i could even think, he flipped me over. i was setting on the couch as he rested on his knees between my legs. my breathing was frantic every time he came close to my heat.
“you got this wet just from kissing?” he teased, “jesus, where was that big talk before.”
he started kissing my knee down to my inner thigh, i twitch every step of the way.
“remember, you promised me.” he said looking up at me as he licked over my wet panties. i let out a moan mixed with a groan muffling my sound helplessly with the palm of my hand. he slurps the sweet syrup as he brings his fingers to push down the band of my panties down and out of one leg so it hung at the bottom of my left ankle.
he pulls me closer and begins to feast, tongue thrashing over my wet lips teasing my aching cunt. he slows down his pace with a grunt as he nibbles on the cheery and licks all over till my legs began to close in. he holds one thigh down as he cradles the other kissing and leaving marks all over.
“please…” i cry out, he stops and looks at his work of art. hair messy sticking go my neck and forehead with sweat, eyes holding back tears of orgasm “i’m gonna cum.” he admires me for a second and doesn’t answer, he simply keeps eating me live.
he knew how close i was to climax, yet he kept going even after i screamed out my sweet noise echoing the place.
henry climbed over me kissing me though my ragged breathing. he picks me up again and sets me on top of him, he’s hard as a rock i swear if he doesn’t take care of it right now it could explode.
“thats what you do to me.” he said as he placed my hand over it. i took his hand and slid it down the dripping down my thigh.
“thats what you did to me, i think its only fair.” i said through a grin, he chuckled and brought me back to his lips.
i unzipped his pants and began to ease him inside me little by little. the grimace of pain was written all over my face.
“you don’t have to, it’ll hurt” he said.
“shut up.” i shot back as i pushed my hips down swallowing him fully.
“fuck—“ i spat out as i wrap my arms around his neck and throw my head back with each grind. “why the fuck are you this big for, hm? i grab him by the chin.
“to see you a mess with pleasure of course”
“fuck.. you…” swearing is all i could summon at this point. after a while it was too hard to ride him any longer i was dizzy and my knees wear giving in feeling his length up to my liver. “i can’t—“ for a second i thought he was going to taunt me telling me that i could ride him better than that, but to my surprise he held onto my hips and began thrusting into me so deep i felt i’d pass out.
“stop— one sec-“
“no.” he muttered before i could even finish my words. his pounded me so deeply that my eyes began to roll back, i shut my eyes. his arm locking my hips in place as the other grabbed my face forcing me to look at him. his face was flushed with heat and his once pale skin is a deep shade of red.
“look at me,” he said “don’t look like this to anyone else but me, hm? either way, no one could make you cum like this other than me.” my hand acted on its own and slapped him across the face as i slowed down the pace riding him again.
“what makes you think i’m that loyal to you? why won’t i go down on my knees for hultman for instance?” both of us knew i mean my professor. it was a running joke that he fits the perfect hot divorcee dad image.
“its pointless,” he said as he flipped me over the couch so he’s now on too of me. “because every time you cum you’ll only be thinking of me.” and he goes faster and deeper than he ever was. he’s rough, out of place, fucking me so hard all i could feel and think about is him. i scream his name as i grab onto his tightly, his whimpers muffled onto my neck. he shots out one more thrust and both of us fall in peaced down the hill of pleasure, he filled me up so good how could i ever forget this?
henry slows down until he eventually stopped turned to look at my face and chuckled. i’m his and he’s mine look between sealed with kisses were the words we’d never say out loud.
“stay inside me a little longer” i requested. its intimate, i like it.
“it hurts you, i can see just by looking at your face, freak.” he kissed me again, the pulled out cuddling on top of my chest. the sky was turning a slight shade of pale blue.
henry kisses my cheeks down to my neck until he rested in one place and lied there till we both drifted down to sleep.
bro. bro you are romantisizing the secret history. bro you are enamored with the greek class just like richard. bro you are ignoring the bad things and creating aesthetics based on a book telling a murder of a young man. brother.
bro. bro you are romantisizing the secret history. bro you are enamored with the greek class just like richard. bro you are ignoring the bad things and creating aesthetics based on a book telling a murder of a young man. brother.
If I were Henry Winter, I'd be confused too about the crashaout the Greek class had.
Oh, now you wanna have morals, sisterfucker/abuser?
Now you wanna be nervous about ethics, Mr. Get An Alcoholic Drunk So I Can Have A Quick Fuck With Dubious Consent?
You wanna have a hysterical fit one second and extort money from me the next, Mr. Felon Manchild?
You people do awful stuff every day, but when I accidently kill one guy when I was heavily inebriated and out of my mind, I'm suddenly evil incarnate and you're all Father Abraham's lambs? As if you weren't all down for that orgy ritual, stop lying. Fake friends. Fine, I'll turn myself in if you all will too for everything you did. *Silence.* That's what I thought.
unfortunately this is how i feel about tsh. idk what it is about loving one that makes you hate the other but im physically incapable of finishing tsh 😭 meanwhile iwwv is my fav book and i just finished rereading it
well for me its the other way around. mind you, i had so much expectation for iwwv i wanted to enjoy it bc it sounded good but it just was a big disappointment from the start and i couldn’t finish it even if i tried.
I hoped Henry wouldn’t answer the door, that his paranoia would take over and lock himself in. a click from a knob as i walked up the stairs made my head perk up.
“Lucia?” Henry’s voice, although lowered, was stern and clear. this wasn’t the paranoia i expected, opening the door at every passing person…
To think of it now, the two hundred dollars a night was a scam. It was like any other hotel in town. Henry was still in his suit, he took off his jacket when i came in and rested it on a crimson armchair by the door.
“you don’t look very well since i left you.” he said behind me.
i turned around, he seemed unusually nervous. like, my presence was unexpected. like, he was hoping i would show up…
my eyes steadly swapping the place. behind his head, a beige coat was there, Camila’s.
“do you have company?” i said, my throat felt prickly, the old lingering bitter taste.
“not at the moment, no.”
horrible lier he is…
i dripped down my coat and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“let me make myself clear, Henry. i didn’t come here to be lied to and manipulated all over again, whatever else you want from me i’d rather you say it right now or else i’m leaving.”
“i don’t want anything from you, my dear.” he said as he leaned over me, offering a cigarette to my lips. i took it. “i just wanted to have you as close as possible to me.” he muttered as he lit it, smoke covering my face.
“me and Camilla, you mean…” i blew the cloud that was between us.
he smiled.
“why don’t you get yourself settled and we’ll talk after.” he went to fix himself a drink.
to be frank, i did need a shower, a proper one, and a fancy place such as this held a great promise. while i was in a towel after i washed up and waiting for the tub to fill up as i smoked the rest of the cigarette, when henry knocked on the door.
“its open.” i said as i adjusted myself in the half filled tub, suddenly feeling nervous. he was in his shirt, top buttons opened, and had his glasses in his hand. he sat on the floor facing me. then he slid his glasses on again not saying a word, arm resting on the edge close to me, and he let his cheek lean on it.
“something’s wrong?” i was calm now, numb.
“i’d never hurt you, lucia.” he said, his voice raspy and venerable. “you know that, don’t you?”
i stared at him, bringing the cigarette to my lips again. “uh-hm.” exhaling away from him, head resting back. “i know that.” i said.
“yet, you are afraid of me.”
“i’m not afraid of you, henry.”
“then why-“
i brought my knees to my chest leaning closer to him.
“i know what you’re capable of, what effect you have on people.. that what scares me most.” i said. “i’ve seen it, wasn’t pretty.”
he has that sort of power over me even tho i’ll never admit it.
henry blinked, whether it was the damage my words had done to him, or that he’s now mad, either way he reached his hand and pushed a strand of curl that hung over my brow. my hair was getting longer, closer to a bob than that ugly boy-ish pixie cut i had before.
“i should let you get dressed, you’ll catch a cold.” then he left the bathroom as strangely as he got in.
i couldn’t take it anymore, his constant push and pull. this seesaw that always ends with me on the ground alone. i rushed out with a bathrobe loosely wrapped around my body.
when i came out henry had just hung up the telephone and turned to face me. i was furious, red faced, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest aching to scream out. tears held in my eyes begging to be released.
“do you think this is easy for me?” i muttered out of my shaky lips. “do you think i wanted to love you knowing how it will plan out to be? killing our friend, who had done nothing to hurt us—“
“Stop that” henry screeched, stepping back and running a hand over his face as he uttered these three words that made my blood freeze “Alea iacta est.”
my tears dried, i have nothing to offer him now. he’d get rid of me the closest chance he gets.
“i could have done it, you know.” i said, stepping closer to him. “rat you out. i could’ve sure used the money. his family adores me anyway, they’d believe me in an instant.” he stood at arms reach from him, his pupils dilated making the pale blue shade seem darker.
“you’d throw me in that ditch too, huh? Verba, non acta.”
his jaw clinched and he came closer, towering over me. my chest was about bare and you could see my vein throbbing in my neck.
“you still have that option, mia cara. you owe me nothing-“ a huge thud in the hallway interrupted us. my fists clinched anxiously and henry turned to the door.
“stay here,” he said. he opened the door slowly and poked his head out. “Francis?” he called out, a few steps followed loud enough to be for two, and it was. Richard and Francis.
“Jesus Henry, how many fake names do you use? it was a hazard to sneak from that lobby boy.” Francis rambled on as he shrugged his jacket. “oh,” he said, eyes scanning me then at henry. “hello you.” i pulled on my robe and crossed my arms.
“have you seen Charles?” said Richard to Henry.
“No,” said henry. “not recently.”
“well he’s sure aching to see you.” Francis said irritated. “he stole my fucking car.”
“what? when?” i said.
“after the funeral, he said he’d drive to the gas station for some cigarettes and he came back with the seats soaking from the rain and i swore not to give it go him again.” he turned his head down to light his own cigarette. “so apparently, after your cute visit yesterday to his sister, he went apeshit and stole the keys from my jacket.” Francis threw his head back rubbing his neck as he threw himself on the chair that henry had his jacket on.
“we looked for him at the bar,” said Richard. who was looking at henry the whole time. “they said he’d been physical and throwing threats and had to kick him out.”
“where is she now?” i said, “camilla?”
“shes by the pool,” said henry. “she went an hour before you came.” he then turned to the telephone and rung the twin’s apartment, as expected, no answer.
“does he know where you’re staying, henry?” i said as i began to dress. he didn’t answer but stared at the telephone as he rubbed on the bridge of his nose.
“i’ll go look for him.” i threw my jacket on and just before i ran out, i turned to richard. “go get camilla, she’d listen to you the most.” and left.
faint thudding sound of steps started after me, henry, in his crumbled shirt and long over coat thrown over his shoulders like a spy detective in the night. his specs shinning in the dim light at me.
“what are you doing?” i said, agitated as my heart sank. “go back inside and wait till i get back.” he stopped walking and stared not directly at me, but rather into the distance around me.
“i’m coming with you.” he said after a pause.
i sighed. “look,” i said gritting my teeth as i wiped the dripping from my wet hair off my forehead. “i don’t know if you’re dense or just plain ol’ stupid, either way don’t follow me and do as i say for once in your god damn life. i’m in this shit because of you, i’m doing you a favor by cleaning this fucked up mess u put us all in.”
he went quiet, and i turned to leave. again, he followed.
“didn’t you hear me?!” i screamed out. “go back ins—“
“don’t yell.” he said abruptly. “it doesn’t suit you.”
is he fucking with me?? this motherfucker… he’s mocking me… of all things-.. after all those things…!!
my feet ran before my brain could process what i’m about to do, i slapped him hard across his face that his glasses fell down on the carpet spread floor. he let out a breathe, and bent down to look at me on my level.
his eyes were relaxed, half led, and grayer than before. i had chills running down my spine even before he spoke.
“do it again.” he said. “if i disgust you that much that you act before you even think, hit me again. hit me till your heart content.”
“henry, come on-“ i stuttered, suddenly tongue tide.
“if thats the touch i’d get from you at the moment, i’ll take it.” he interrupted before i could function a second thought.
my cheeks were burning red, my chest tightened like a cage around my lungs.. i wanted to kiss him one last time…
i bit my tongue and turned away before he could notice how flustered i am.
“just don’t follow me, i beg of you.”
he straightened up.
“lucia.” he called out. “come back to me, i’ll keep my promise.”
———————————————————————
corner street, third to last shop, there was a bar that had a gambling basement. bunny told me about it once in a backhanded way to belittle charles. i knew that charles had his problems and his ways of escaping them, but me of all people isn’t the judge of that.
i went there, as i expected, he was there too. fortunately, by the bar.
“you look awful hunched over like that, my prince.” i said with a smirk on my face, he turned around. his face went ‘oh..’ and he turned again.
“i know, i know…” i said as i sat on a stool beside him. it was loud from the TV playing a replay of last week’s football match, yet not very crowded, it made me uneasy.
“i’m not the girl you hoped to see.” i bought a pack of cigarettes from this half dressed smoke girl who was awfully flirtatious with me. “although, i know where you might find who you’re looking for.” his head finally turned to me.
“oh? you finally notice me?” i grinned.
“she’s with henry.” he said, words slurry and salty with hatred. “he stole her from me once before, and now he’s doing it all over again.”
“thats not true, i was with her just now.” i blew out a cloud of smoke. “she said she misses you, and that if you’re willing to get better, she’ll come back home.” lies, all lies.. but what am i to do in this situation when henry had already did his damage?
“she hates me, she’s scared of me…” he began to tear up. “all because of that fucker… you know, i never liked him. i don’t know why we did as he said, jesus even with bunny… oh bun..” he was sobbing by now.
“well, it was unfortunate. nonetheless, its useless to dwell over the past like that.” his brows knotted into a big crumb in the center of his face.
“unfortunate?!” he yelled with a scuff. “jesus christ, he got into your head.”
“what.”
“you sound exactly like henry, lucia. you used to hate his guts, remember? calling him subhuman and all?” charles reached for my cigarette and tapped the ashes out then smoked whats left.
“you’re a nice girl, lucia.” he said. “why on earth would you go after someone like henry.”
i bit my lip, i hadn’t the answer myself.
“give me the keys, i’ll take you to her.” i hate that even this is what henry wanted me to do, but for what its worth, i’m doing for charles’s sake.
he rummaged through his pockets and placed it in my hand. i could barely drive, and to leave a scratch on it would cause my death by Francis. it began to rain gently, charles rested his head on the window and stared at the road quietly.
“i don’t..” i began to say but stumbled over my own words. “i don’t what henry says just because he said so, as much as i hate it, he is quiet right about a few things. charles, you of all people should be able to understand me.” i stopped at a red light and lit a cigarette. “i don’t hate henry, and i don’t hate you, either. thats why i’m helping you find your sister even though i agree with henry for keeping you two apart.” his head turned aggressively at me.
“what the fuck do you even know.”
“more than i’d like to.” i said, and he turned away, sulking.
i parked the car a block away from the hotel so he’d sober up, and so he won’t pull this move again. we walked beside each other quietly, his eyes were teary from alcohol.
knocked at the door twice, once it opened i felt something nudge behind my head.
“charles.” said henry calmly.
“step aside.” uttered charles in a straight tone a lot more sober than he was before.
he pressed the gun to guide me inside, henry stared beside the door and closed it after us.
“where is she?” charles tapped the gun again.
“do you seriously expect me to tell you when you’ve a fucking gun against my head?” he pressed it harder, i rolled my eyes, annoyed.
jesus christ, what’s it with these men? privileged asshole, if he fires his ass will be out to jail again before he could blink.
“put the gun down first.” i said calmly.
henry was an arm’s reach from us now, charles pointed the gun at him now.
“don’t fucking move!” he screamed out. henry kept walking towards him and stopped an inch far from the bullet point.
“If you want to shoot me, Charles, go ahead and do it. It’ll be the stupidest thing you ever did in your life.”
“The stupidest thing I ever did in my life was listening to you,” Charles said.
“go ahead,” he said, “shoot.” charles was screaming, cursing at henry with every bit left of his head. i dashed full speed and knocked him down on his back, the gun fell, and he pushed me off and tried to run to but henry had already beat him to it.
“get up.” he said, pointing it at him. charles cursed at him again, he pulled him by his neck and thrown him on the chair that had once held henry’s jacket. i tried to get up, i hit my head on the table when charles pushed me.
“are you alright?” henry asked me without turning away from him. before i could answer, richard and francis broke through the door. francis was talking to richard then froze when his eyes fell on the scene before him.
“good god, henry.” he said, camilla stepped inside after them.
“charles!” she cried out.
“stay back,” i said, trying to stop the dizziness.
“henry, we didn’t agree to do this!” francis was rambling on frantically, i could only take so little of his squeaky voice right now.
“shut up.” henry yelled, harsh and strong.
“You bastard,” said Charles, reeling backwards in his seat, and it was a moment before I realized, startled, that he was speaking not to Francis or Henry but to me.
“I trusted you. You told him where I was.” I was too petrified to answer. I blinked at him.
“I knew where you were,” said Henry coolly.
What happened next took place in an instant. Charles raised and sprung from his chair and crashed against henry. There were four pops in rapid succession, like a cap gun. With the second pop, I heard a windowpane shatter. And with the third I was conscious of a warm, stinging sensation in my stomach, close to my liver.
Henry was holding Charles's right forearm above his head with both hands, bending him backward; Charles was struggling to get the gun with his left hand, but Henry twisted it from his wrist and it dropped to the carpet. Charles dove for it but Henry was too quick.
I was still standing. I'm shot, I thought, I'm shot. I reached down and touched my stomach. Blood. There was a small hole, slightly charred, in my white shirt: henry’s shirt that he had thrown over my shoulder an hour before all this happened. i slumped against the wall near the broken window, panting with panic.
Henry had the gun again. He twisted Charles's arm behind his back— Charles fighting, thrashing wildly about-and, nosing the pistol into his spine, shoved him away from the door.
I still hadn't quite grasped what had happened. l I thought, was the bullet still in me? Was I going to die? The thought was ridiculous; it didn't seem possible. My stomach burned but I felt oddly calm. Getting shot, I'd always thought, would hurt a lot more than this.
Charles, despite having one arm pinned behind him, was trying to elbow Henry in the stomach with the other. Henry pushed him, staggering, across the room and into a chair. "Sit down," he said.
Charles tried to get up. Henry mashed him back down. He tried to get up a second time and Henry slapped him across the face with his open hand with a whack that was louder than the gunshots. Then, with the pistol on him, he stepped to the windows and drew the curtains.
I put my hand over the hole in my shirt. Bending forward slightly, I felt a sharp pain.
Charles's head was rolled against the back of the chair. I noticed
that there was blood on his mouth. His eyes were glassy.
Awkwardly—he was holding the gun in his good hand-Henry reached up and took off his spectacles and rubbed them on the front of his shirt. Then he hooked them over his ears again. "Well, Charles," he said. "You've done it now."
I heard some kind of commotion downstairs, through the open window—footsteps, voices, a door slamming.
"Do you think anybody heard?" said Francis anxiously.
"I should think they did," Henry said. “Are you alright?” he said, tilting his head towards me.
“grand.” i coughed a pool of blood. henry grind.
Camilla went over to Charles. Drunkenly, he made as if to push her away.
"Get away from him," Henry said.
"What are we going to do about this window?" said Francis.
"What are we going to do about Lucia?" said Richard.
Before I had the chance to elaborate, there were footsteps on the stairs and somebody banged at the door.
"What's going on in there?" I recognized the innkeeper's voice.
Francis put his face in his hands. "Oh, shit," he said
"Open up in there."
Charles, drunkenly, mumbled something and tried to raise his head.
Henry bit his lip. He went to the window and looked out the corner of the shade.
Then he turned around. He still had the pistol. "Come here," he said to me.
i looked at him in disbelief, i’m shot you asshole. Francis and Richard looked at him in horror.
He beckoned to me with his gun arm. "Come here," he said. "Quick."
I felt faint. What's he doing? I thought, bewildered.
i took a step away from him. my gaze was one of reflection, whatever he’s about to do won’t do any of us any good. "No, Henry," i muttered, "don't ..."
To my utter urprise, he smiled at me warmly. "You think I'd hurt you?" he said. "Come here."
i staggered my way to him, a few steppes and henry met me half way. He kissed me between the eyes, then leaned against to my ear and whispered, “live forever.” his cheek burning against my teary wet face, lingered a moment.
"I've got a key," the innkeeper yelled, pounding away at the door. "I'll use it."
The room was swimming, henry held my face and stared into my eyes, i cried harder unable to speak. i wanted to beg him to stop, to quit it all..
Idiot, I thought wildly, just try the knob.
Henry leaned and kissed me again. "I love you," he said.
“please, henry…” i begged as i bled and cried.
Then he said, out loud: "Come in."
The door flew open. Henry raised the arm with the gun. He's going to shoot them, I thought, dazed; the innkeeper and his wife, behind him, thought the same thing, because they froze about three steps into the room— his eyes remain fixed on me, he smiled again.
"No, Henry!" i screamed and, too late, I realized what he was going to do.
He put the pistol to his temple and fired, twice. Two flat cracks. They slammed his head to the left. It was the kick of the gun, I think, that triggered the second shot. h
His mouth fell open. A draft, created by the open door, sucked the curtains into the gap of the open window. For a moment or two, they shuddered against the screen. Then they breathed out again, with something like a sigh; and Henry, his eyes squeezed tight, and his knees giving way beneath him, fell with a thud to the carpet. His upper body leaning on me. “no, no…” i cried, “no no no! open your eyes, i beg of you!” i quivered holding his head against my chest, i can’t tell my blood from his anymore. how, i thought putrefied, the hell could he ever think this was beauty?
ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ
the doctors said that i was lucky, that the bullet stuck and didn’t pierce through my liver. lay flat on my back in the ambulance, feeling the summer night flash by warm and mysterious—kids on bikes, moths haunting the street lamps—and wondering if this was what it was like, if life sped up when you were about to die. Bleeding richly. Sensations fading round the edges. I kept thinking how funny, this dark ride to the underworld, if now i’d meet my father again. The paramedic riding in the back wasn’t much older than henry; a kid, really, with bad skin and a downy little moustache. He had never seen a gunshot wound. He kept asking what it felt like? dull or sharp? an ache or burn? My head was spinning, and stopped crying even though tears kept streaming dully from my eyes, and naturally I could give him no kind of coherent answer but I remember thinking of henry, he’s going to die, was he already dead when i held him? why on earth would he now utter those words to me with that smile…
Motel 6, Dairy Queen. Colors so bright, they nearly broke my heart.
Henry died, of course. With two bullets to the head I don’t suppose he could have done much else. Still, he lived more than twelve hours, a fate which amazed the doctors. Such grave wounds, they said, would have killed most people instantly. I wonder if that means he didn’t want to die; and if so, why he shot himself in the first place.
Henry’s parents came to visit me at the hospital two days after the incident. they wouldn’t allow me into the room after i woke up. His mother, a living picture of him: blue solemn eyes and dark as night hair, and his father with the same hight as henry was had the same walk and expression as him. i almost leaped off my bed when i saw them, half sedated i began to sob.
“i’m sorry, its all my fault, i’m very sorry..” my eyes burnt, his mother smiled warmly, her tears hung in her eyes, and held me in her arms as i fell to my knees begging for forgiveness. his father stared at as he pressed his fingers to his eyes under his glasses for moments then wiping them dry with his palm.
suicide as bad as it looked, there in the Albemarle, I still think we could have patched it up somehow. It wasn’t from desperation that he did it. Nor, I think, was it fear. The business with Julian was heavy on his mind; it had impressed him deeply. I think he felt the need to make a noble gesture, something to prove to us and to himself that it was in fact possible to put those high cold principles which Julian had taught us to use. Duty, piety, loyalty, sacrifice.
His reflection in the mirror as he raised the pistol to his head, haunted me in my dreams for weeks at the hospital. I’d wake aghast, panting, and screaming from the expression he had. it was one of rapt concentration, of triumph, almost, a high diver rushing to the end of the board; eyes tight, joyous, waiting for the big splash.
of course, i didn’t tell his mother about any of this. She had visited me everyday and stayed a few nights. she brought me food and cloths and called the nurse when i had high fevers. some nights i pretended to sleep just so she could rest, when in reality i was afraid to fall sleep.
I think about it quite a bit, actually, that look on his face. I think about a lot of things. I think about the first time I ever saw a birch tree; about the last time I saw Julian; about the first sentence that I ever learned in Greek. Beauty is harsh, Халета та кала. its is terror, i’d stare at the ceiling till the room turns blue from the early wake of dawn. “live forever.” he said and then beat me to the race. i’d crying while laughing to myself when i think about it.
the day i was discharged was henry’s funeral, his mother, Dianne, brought me a black Gucci dress of hers and insisted i’d wear it. i sat on the edge of the bed staring out the window with my guts stitched and taped up. she pressed a square blue box to my side and sat down next to me. i opened it quietly, it was the key’s to henry’s car.
“he wanted you to have it.” she said, “me and my husband found the transformation of possession papers while packing his things.”
“i don’t even drive.” i muttered. she chuckled.
“thats funny.” she said, and hugged me. “he must’ve loved you dearly. we bought him this car for his 18th, he never let anyone take it.”
my fingers brushed against the cold steal of the BMW logo, i loved him too. Maybe too much that i had mistaken it for all the dirty feelings i had against him.
“come,” said Dainne, squeezing my hand. “my husband is taking us there, he’s waiting outside. we’ll deal with the papers.”
“please forgive me.” i muttered, burying my face against her chest hiding my shame. “he died because of me, i couldn’t help him, if i hadn’t…” i chocked on my words as she hugged me again, tightly as if i were her daughter. if i hadn’t ignored his calls, maybe then henry would have been still here, if i hadn’t put any faith in charles and took pitty on him that night, henry would’ve been here.
the funeral was small, Julian didn’t come. Camilla, Richard, beat up Charles, and Francis sat in a close line to my left as henry’s parents to my right. the priest said a few words, then it was my turn to speak, i don’t remember what i said. i think the amount of sedation i was under, i had to wear an arm sling for five days since the doctors said i twisted my arm that night, but i don’t remember it.
You would think, after all we’d been through, that Francis and the twins and I would have kept in better touch over the years. But after Henry died, it was as if some thread which bound us had been abruptly severed, and soon after we began to drift apart. i kept the car, and got my license five months after the funeral. moved to Brooklyn after graduation to an apartment that henry’s parents insisted on giving me. my English degree had gotten me a job at university as a researcher’s assistant, and i started teaching at a privet broad school. Dianne kept better touch with me over time, she’d visit on holidays and invite me for Christmas and easter dinners, and visit henry’s grave all of us together. his parents would send me birthday cards, and letters and post cards from their holidays.
i wonder id henry finds out that now i’m close with his parents more than he was how would he react. he’d be pissed with me for sure, but i think he wouldn’t mind it now.
i took the train on impulse one time in November to visit henry again, sometimes i did that when i’m drunk after Christmas and sleep there. i found fresh flowers, daisies. Richard spoke from behind me.
“hello.” he said. i turned my eyes widened.
“hello yourself.” i said as i tucked at my coat and kneeled to dust off the dust off his name.
“didn’t think you’d be here.” i said, and lit a cigarette.
“i didn’t think you came around this time, either.” Richard said as he pushed his hands in his pockets. he wore a leather jacket and an overcoat over it. i stayed quiet.
“so how are you doing? long time no see.” he asked to break the silence between us, i didn’t answer and kept smoking. we kept it that way for half an hour, i lit my final cigarette and left it there on the stone and stood to leave.
“i’m in Brooklyn.” i said at last, as we walked out to the station. “i teach there, you should visit sometime.”
“i will, thank you.” he said. we waited for the train silently.
“are you taking the train as well?”
“no.” he said. it began to rain gently, i looked up the sky and sighed closing my eyes my breath leaving a cloud covering my face.
“i don’t want to leave.” said Richard in a low voice.
“me neither.”
“then don’t.”
“i can’t stay.”
“you can, lets get married.”
“what are you talking about?” i chuckled, i thought he was joking but he was dead serious.
“i love you, marry me.” he said again and his gaze fell heavier on me.
“i can’t marry you, Richard Papen.” i said facing him.
“why not?” he foolishly asked as if the answer isn’t written all over me. i chuckled again.
“why not he asks… because, Richard, i can’t pick up and leave with you when we barely even kept much of a conversation for thirty minutes.”
“forget it, i’ll move west with you.”
“no.”
we looked at each other for a long time, then i looked away.
“you should see the way i’m living, you would not ask me such thing if you did.” i said guiltily that i might have been too harsh.
“ i could help you.” he said.
“i don’t want your help, Richard.” i raised my head and looked at him.
“I’ll get down on my knees if you want me to,” he said. “Really, I will.”
i closed my eyes, dark-lidded, dark shadows beneath them; he really sounded older, not the curious-eyed boy I had met by the college gates.
“I can’t marry you,” i said at last.
“Why not?” I was going to say, Because I don’t love you, which probably would have been more or less the truth, but instead, my heart spoke for once: “Because I love Henry.”
“Henry’s dead.”
“I can’t help it. I still love him.”
“I loved him, too,” he said.
For just a moment, I thought I felt my body waver. But then i looked away.
“I know you did,” i said. “But it’s not enough.”
The rain stayed with me all the way back to Brooklyn, thumbing hard against the train windows. i fell on my bed when i came in, cried myself to sleep. a glass case that gleamed in the dim light and it their faces ghoulishly from below. i drew nearer. In the case was a machine revolving slowly on a turntable, a machine with metal parts that slid in and out and collapsed in upon themselves to form new images. An Inca temple .. click click click ... the Pyramids ... the Parthenon. History assing beneath my very eyes, changing every moment “I thought I'd find you here." said a voice at my elbow.
It was Henry. His gaze was steady and impassive in the dim light. Above his ear, beneath the wire stem of his spectacles, I could just make out the powder burn and the dark hole in his right temple.
I was glad to see him, though not exactly surprised. "You know," I said to him, "everybody is saying that you're dead."
He stared down at the machine. The Colosseum ... click click click ... the Pantheon. "I'm not dead," he said. "I'm only having a bit of trouble with my passport."
He cleared his throat. "My movements are restricted," he said. "I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like."
Hagia Sophia. St. Mark's, in Venice. "What is this place?" I asked
"That information is classified, I'm afraid."
I looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. "Is t open to the public?" I chuckled.
"Not generally, no."
I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn't time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point.
"Are you happy here?" I said at last.
He considered this for moment. "Not particularly," he said.
"But you're not very happy where you are, either."
“your mother’s worried.” i choked up, “she said you don’t write anymore.” he smiled.
St. Basil's, in Moscow. Chartres. Salisbury and Amiens. He glanced at his watch.
"I hope you'll excuse me," he said, "but I'm late for an appointment."
He turned from me and walked away. I watched his back receding down the long, gleaming hall.
i woke in a gasp, as if my body fell from a high building. i turned for my watch, three in the morning. i dialed henry’s number, three rings, hung up, then called again. for a second i thought he might answer, i tugged at my chest and sobbed till the line cut off.
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