Work Text:
Henry was reading. The dorm room was quiet, he was at his desk, leaning over some Latin books and papers, annotating them. Behind him, sprawled on his own bed was Bunny Corcoran, his roommate. He was yapping, as usual. Henry was paying him no mind.
Finally, tired of being ignored, Bunny decided he’d had enough of this disrespect. But of course, instead of quieting down for the sake of his own dignity, he became belligerent instead.
“What the hell are you reading?” He snapped.
"The Aeneid." Henry replied.
A small pause.
"Why?"
What could Henry possibly say to that? It was not a sensible question, so it wouldn’t have a sensible answer. Henry remained silent.
“Who reads on a weekend?” Bunny chirped again.
Henry sighed softly and shook his head to himself, continuing to focus on his work. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that he was not in the mood to talk.
"Look at you, reading your little Latin book like a good little boy." Bunny jeered. "Look at you, what a nerd."
Henry exhaled. He inhaled.
Then he sat up straight and put his pen down, finally turning over to peer at Bunny with an icy stare.
"Your parents did not give you much attention, did they?"
Bunny was taken aback.
"Excuse me?"
Henry had said what he wanted to say. In his mind, he’d driven the point home, and he saw no further reason to continue this pointless blabbering, so with a sharp exhale from his nose, he turned backed to his work.
“You are excused.” He said, in a condescending tone.
And that was that.
…..Or so he’d hoped.
"Oh, excuse me?!" Bunny barked, pushing himself off his bed and marching over to Henry. Once he was next to him, he snatched the book Henry had been reading and snapped it shut.
Henry’s reaction was as bland as expected. He simply clicked his tongue and stared up at Bunny, tired.
"You are acting like a child."
"Oh, I'm the child? You act like you don't even want to be here, and all you do is study like a complete idiot."
"We are in an educational institute. Our purpose for being here is to study."
Henry's eyes flashed with irritation. "A concept lost on you, it seems."
Granted, it had only been 2 weeks since the start of freshman year, and probably nobody besides Henry was spending so much time with their nose buried in heaps of books– but 2 weeks was still a considerable amount of time to at least learn something. Henry had never seen Bunny even touch his books except to throw them into his book bag or out of it.
"The concept of fun is lost on you, old man." Bunny threw Henry's book back at him.
Henry caught it as it thudded against his chest- a brief glare was shot at Bunny. He gently and neatly set the book back down.
"Fun is subjective. You think lying around, begging for attention is fun, I think my books are fun."
Bunny had been making his way back to his bed when Henry said that. He paused mid-step and just stood there for a moment before whipping around and swiftly stomping to Henry's side again.
“Oh you think you’re such a scholar, huh?” He snatched up the papers Henry had been filling out.
"Bunny." Henry warned.
Bunny didn’t care. What could that nerd do to him, anyway? He took a few steps back and tried to read the notes– a second into that and he was already bored– so instead he began throwing the papers around the room.
“How about this, then, Mr. Scholar? How do you like that!”
Henry got up from his seat slowly, watching Bunny with a cold, hard glare.
"Are you out of your incompetent mind?" Henry’s voice was low, quick, he chewed his words– never, never had someone angered him so much so quickly.
Bunny was undeterred. He was laughing now, prancing about, mocking Henry as he flailed the papers in the air and threw them here and there. As they fell to the floor, he went about stepping on them.
The only reason it took Henry a while to put an end to that was because he was so stunned. How could someone be so immature?
Once the initial shock wore off, Henry swiftly walked up to Bunny and his hand shot out, roughly grabbing the other boy by the forearm. His grip was painful, no doubt, and Henry intended for it to be. He just stared at Bunny, eyes devoid, his expression blank.
Bunny's laugh died. He couldn’t believe it, but for a split second he felt fear. Not anger, or irritation, which were Bunny's go-to emotions, but genuine fear, and not the kind one feels in the midst of boyish banter either. He didn't know why. There was something in Henry's face that instilled that feeling of doom in him. It seemed he’d gone too far.
After a moment, with a sudden jerk, he broke loose of Henry's grip and took a step back, eyeing Henry like he was strange.
“What’s wrong with you?” He blurted out, rubbing his arm.
"Pick those up."
"Pick them up yoursel-” Bunny’s sentence hadn’t finished when Henry’s hand shot out again and gripped Bunny’s forearm yet again, but much more roughly now. He shook Bunny once, his touch violent but his demeanor calm. Something dark brewed in Henry's eyes-- that was the moment when Bunny realized that it was Henry's eyes. They just weren't…right.
"Pick them up." Henry said once more, his voice dangerously low, teeth gritted.
Bunny stared at him for a moment before he yanked his arm free again and slowly, slowly knelt down to pick up the papers one by one.
What a fucking creep.
Henry watched him coldly, patiently making sure Bunny picked each and every single sheet he’d thrown around the room.
"Arrange them in the order they were in." Henry ordered.
“How am I supposed to–”
“They’re numbered.” Henry snapped.
Bunny was silent for a moment, then he silently began arranging them.
After he was done, Henry walked up to Bunny and snatched the papers from him. Then he leaned in dangerously close and peered into Bunny's eyes.
"Do not ever touch my belongings again."
Bunny scoffed and moved away, making sure to play his fear off as nonchalance.
"Pfft! Yeah yeah, whatever. You could probably use some people skills."
Henry straightened up and walked stiffly to his desk.
Bunny stole a glance at him as he snatched his jacket off his bed. Just his fucking luck. His excitement for having a roommate in Hampden had slowly dwindled in the 2 weeks he’d lived with Henry– but after this encounter, he was just coming to terms with the fact that he was holed up with a nerdy bore at best, a weird creep at worst.
This strange specimen was not the kind of person Bunny wanted to spend any time with, let alone befriend. So he wore his jacket and left the room, grumbling under his breath.
Back at Saint Jerome’s, Bunny had been in the varsity football club and led his team, the Wolverines, to a state championship in his senior year. That didn’t come as a surprise to most, considering his father had been a football star in his prime. It was unfortunate, really, how none of his sons developed a passion for the sport despite their potential.
Hampden did not have a varsity team, but a club team, which Bunny didn’t mind when he signed up for it. He wasn’t joining it because he wanted to, not even because he expected himself to, but mostly because he felt incredibly lonely and needed things to do and people to meet.
It helped that some old friends and acquaintances from Saint Jerome’s happened to be in Hampden’s club too. It helped Bunny fit into the team better– not that he really needed any help to thrive in a social setting, but it was quite convenient to start off with a sense of camaraderie.
Winter meant it was the offseason when Bunny joined, so most practices were informal, infrequent and mostly focused on individual training and workouts. To Bunny, practice was made fun purely because of shenanigans that occurred on the field. He didn’t quite enjoy playing football (it tired him out, and he felt he’d had enough football in his life.) but it gave Bunny something to do, and also helped him avoid the chore of studying and creepy roommates.
Speaking of creepy roommates.
“Hey, is Ted Bundy eyeballing you or what?” Steve popped up next to Bunny during a small break in their mirror drills.
Bunny stopped chugging from the water bottle and stared at Steve, panting.
“What.”
Steve was looking somewhere off into the distance. He nodded his head forward. Bunny followed his gaze, and what he saw made him do a double-take.
Henry was watching him from afar. He stood next to a tree, shrouded mostly in darkness because of the blackening skies—he was smoking, watching the field. Watching Bunny , to be precise.
He didn’t look away even as Bunny's eyes met his.
“Whatever,” Bunny scoffed, turning back to Steve. “Come on, we should practice.”
Despite his nonchalance, Bunny was deeply uncomfortable.
“How long has he been standing there, anyway?” Bunny asked casually, dragging Steve to the other end of the field to continue their mirror drills. Or whatever the hell Steve wanted to do, Bunny didn’t really care.
“Dunno. I just noticed the bloke. But Darren said he saw him appear 30 minutes ago.”
30 minutes? Bunny had been on the field for 50.
Did Henry just develop an interest in football suddenly or…?
“Darren’s always speaking out of his ass.” Bunny said, trying moreso to convince himself.
Steve couldn’t stop laughing.
Practice concluded after a short circuit session where a group of 6 of them had practiced passes and reception. Henry was still there, and Bunny had not looked at him again ever since he’d first noticed him. Bunny was, however, beyond irritated, because the whole time he had been on the field, he’d been distracted by the feeling of being watched.
Not only that, but his friends had started noticing Henry too, though neither of them said anything just then. Which was good. All Henry was, was a creepy guy who Bunny was forced to room with, and neither he nor his friends had to waste their time and breath worrying over him.
And then Bunny’s heart dropped.
Henry was approaching him, and suddenly Bunny felt conscious in front of the others.
"I wasn't aware that you played." Henry said, once he was closer to Bunny.
Bunny turned to face him, annoyed, "Well now you know."
The other players were hovering around Bunny, talking to him about this or that, eyeing Henry curiously.
"I need to talk to you for a moment." Henry said to Bunny. “Alone.”
Bunny could have just blown him off right then and there. And he should have, because he didn’t want to hang around that bastard for one second longer than necessary. But a part of Bunny was curious– what did Henry want from him? Could he be embarrassed about his behavior a night ago? So Bunny just curled his upper lip in disdain and stared at Henry, and instead of telling him ‘no’, he instead asked,
“What, now ?”
"Now." Henry said.
Bunny sighed and excused himself before walking off the field with Henry. The other players all cast glances at them as they left. They stopped by the tree that Henry had been leaning on before, and Bunny folded his arms and regarded Henry with a disinterested expression.
Henry was quiet for a moment. He took out a pack of Lucky Strikes from his breast pocket and offered the pack to Bunny.
Bunny looked at the cigarette with scorn and shook his head.
"Hm." Henry took one for himself and lit it up. He was silent for another moment, looking out at the field.
"Would you accompany me to dinner tonight?" He asked suddenly.
It was so random that Bunny– of all people– was speechless. He had definitely misheard that, hadn’t he? Or was this some dumb prank?
“Huh? Why?"
Henry shrugged, “If you agree, I know a quaint bistro just a few blocks away. We can take my car."
Bunny looked at Henry, suspicious, and irritated because it seemed as though his question had been brushed aside. So he repeated, “Why?"
"Well, because the car will get us there faster, of course."
“ No , why are you treating me to dinner?” Bunny said with a tad more hostility than he’d intended.
Henry sighed, almost sounding disappointed, and he turned to look at Bunny finally. The smoke from his cigarette was wafting and coiling around his head, and Bunny wondered just how many cigarettes a person had to smoke to smell so strongly of tobacco.
"If we are to be roommates, for whoever knows how long, I would prefer it if there was no animosity between us. It creates pointless tension and distraction.”
" He looked back at the field, not really looking at anything in particular, “Consider this an apology for my behavior that night.”
The thought of dinner with Henry wasn’t appealing in the slightest to Bunny. Even so, he couldn’t help his curiosity or ignore the offer. (He did deserve an apology, afterall.)
“Fine.” He said with a huff.
"Very well. Meet me in the college parking lot at 7." He turned to leave, his long dark coat billowing in the wind, "And do be punctual."
“Whatever, old man,” Bunny said as Henry left.
Bunny’s friends were still loitering around the field, waiting for him. They had spontaneously planned for an outing (Bunny had been the one to suggest the idea) and seemed eager for Bunny to join them already. As Bunny approached them, one of them made a jeering comment to Bunny about Henry. The other players laughed.
"What was that?" Bunny asked, an eyebrow arching.
“Ignore him,” Tommy said, “Anyway, we decided to head to the movies with Jenny and the girls. We’ll get some pizza after.”
“What, you asked them?” Bunny seemed surprised, looking around the field to see if the cheerleaders were around and about. They weren’t.
“Naw, but I know most of them are free tonight.”
Damn it all. Bunny really wished he’d turned Henry down. He could always stand him up and then pretend he forgot later, but for reasons unknown even to himself, he was not going to do that.
“Aw, boys, I can’t.”
“What? This was your idea!” Darren exclaimed.
After Bunny explained that he was going to dinner with Henry, he got a mixed response.
“You’re going to dinner with that guy?” Steve looked judgemental, “I’d be watching my drink, if I were you.”
Bunny rolled his eyes.
“Guy’s a freak,” Steve said to the rest of them, “Was watching Bun like a hawk.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too,”
Bunny rolled his eyes again, “Relax, boys. He's only my roommate, and I think it’s good if we patch things up."
“Yeah?” Steve laughed, “You know who else had roommates? Ted Bundy.”
For some reason, that comment really unnerved Bunny. He wasn’t afraid of Henry or anything, but he did feel a strange sense of doom when remembered their little encounter in the dorm. Bunny had even voiced some of these concerns (empty eyes, strange habits), in a joking manner, to his friends, which was why they were so keen on comparing Henry to a serial killer.
"Come on fellas, you're freaking me out."
“Yeah, you should be freaking out.” Jackson snickered. “But seriously-- watch your drinks. And your ass.”
A round of laughter ensued. Bunny didn’t know whether to join in or feel insulted. The group began walking to the locker rooms, in jolly spirits that were not dampened by the banter.
"You're a coupla fags, you know." Bunny smirked, shaking his head.
“You know who’s a fag? Your goddamn roommate," Jackson said. This provoked more laughter.
"I don't think he is, fellas." Bunny confessed, growing a bit serious.
He really didn’t think Henry was a homosexual. Sure, lots of homos were the scholarly, reclusive types, but Henry was just too fine a man to be like that. Or maybe Bunny was just trying to convince himself the man he was to live in close proximity with for possibly the next four years was normal and not a threat to his manliness.
Inside the changing rooms, the bantering and back-and-forth continued, not just focusing on Henry though a large part of their discussion did center around Bunny’s mysterious roommate. It was mostly Tommy who kept circling back to Henry, because he kept trying to convince Bunny to blow ‘the weird guy’ off. Bunny, perhaps in his stubbornness to do what he wanted, or in his curiosity for Henry, did not change his original decision, no matter how his friends tried to deter him.
After they were done and as Bunny separated from them, he clapped Steve on the back and bid farewell to everyone.
"Well, I’ll see you pricks next weekend,” He grinned.
“Later, homo. Don’t get murdered.”
Henry had waited outside the car at first, but upon realizing that Bunny would probably run late (or perhaps not show up at all), he just sat inside his car. He would wait 4 more minutes, and then-
At around 7:16 PM, Henry saw Bunny enter the parking lot.
He did not get out to wave him over, instead he sat quietly, watching Bunny peer around the lot for a moment or so. Then he honked his car’s horn. Bunny jolted a little and then turned in the direction of the honk. Spotting Henry's car, he approached with a nonchalant stride, the expression on his face betraying a hint of surprise.
"I said to be punctual." Henry said the minute Bunny had settled into the passenger seat.
Bunny was slightly less annoyed now– he actually seemed a bit more relaxed for once. He was trying to get in the correct mindset for a nice dinner out. Henry was annoying and pretentious, but a free dinner was a free dinner.
“Yeah, yeah, I got caught up with something.” He said dismissively, staring out the window. Then he slapped his thighs, “Let’s get going then.”
Henry scoffed and began to drive without offering any further comment. The car pulled smoothly onto the road, and the atmosphere inside was a mix of silence and the faint hum of the engine.
As they navigated through the city, Bunny's gaze drifted outside, and he observed the passing scenery with a distant interest. Henry, on the other hand, maintained his focused demeanor on the road, occasionally casting a sidelong glance at Bunny. The silence was weighing heavy on Bunny, who was a serial talker-- and Henry was familiar with that fact, considering Bunny had talked his head off in just the first week of their acquaintance. Perhaps he was still angry with Henry.
Bunny wasn't focused much on his anger, in the moment, he was just taking note of Henry’s extremely reckless driving style. The man whipped in and out of the traffic, drove ridiculously fast and furious, and something about that didn’t compute in Bunny’s brain.
He’d had expected Henry to be a more careful driver. He didn't look like your typical need for speed fiend.
The car pushed forward suddenly-- Bunny's stomach sank, he gripped the sides of his seat.
“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed. “Slow down a little! Are you trying to kill us?”
Henry remained silent.
Bunny leaned back in the seat, starting to get annoyed once more. Henry had an interesting, if not infuriating way of dealing with things. If Bunny talked to him, he ignored it or changed the subject. If Bunny didn't talk to him, Henry said nothing in particular.
Forget friends, this was not how you interacted with anybody. Not even with strangers, and especially not with someone you were trying to “apologize” to.
After a while, with a screeching halt, they had pulled up to a nice little Italian restaurant. And by god, what a miracle that the car was unscratched and they were in one piece. Bunny had a jabbing comment at the tip of his tongue, but it was forgotten as he looked outside the window and caught a glimpse of the restaurant. Just from the outlay it looked rather posh and upper class. It stood nestled between other buildings that mirrored it with a certain understated elegance. Its exterior, adorned with wrought-iron accents and framed by potted plants, exuded a timeless and welcoming aura. The façade boasted large, inviting windows trimmed with rich, dark wood, allowing glimpses into the warm ambiance within.
Soft light spilled onto the sidewalk, casting a gentle glow that accentuated the deep hues of the brick exterior. A small sign hung above the entrance, proudly displaying the restaurant's name in stylish script.
Henry parked quickly and exited the car.
Bunny followed, just itching to open his mouth and say something snarky.
Inside, the restaurant was cozy and quiet; the murmuring of other guests, the clinking of utensils and glasses were all muffled sounds that the soft music washed over. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and featured fine china. The dim lighting accentuated the warmth of the space, casting a gentle glow on the rustic yet tasteful décor. The air carried the irresistible scent of garlic, tomatoes, and herbs—a symphony of aromas that drove Bunny’s mouth to water. A central, well-stocked bar beckoned patrons with an array of spirits and wines.
Henry had made a reservation, apparently. The two were guided to a quiet corner by a waiter.
“So you got a table reserved? Good job. One point for you.” Bunny said as they took their seats, and before Henry could say anything, Bunny was already ordering himself a Caesar salad and a bottle of pinot noir. Henry only took a look at the menu before closing it. He didn’t say anything, instead Henry ordered a plate of assorted antipasti.
Bunny and Henry sat in the uncomfortable silence afterwards. Shortly after, the waiter placed the bottle of wine down and left. When Bunny reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass, he noticed that Henry was staring at him, as if studying his actions.
Bunny was about to take a sip, but he set his glass down.
“What? Why are you staring at me?”
"Why? Can I not look?" Henry said, tone and expression as blank as ever. It was unsettling.
The waiter arrived and set down their hors d'oeuvres at the table. Bunny waited till the waiter had gone, staring at the table until then. Then his eyes flicked up.
“I don’t see any reason why you should be staring at me,” Bunny snapped.
"Don't let it get to your head," Henry mumbled, beginning to eat without so much as a glance up at Bunny.
Bunny also ate silently, wondering if coming here had been a mistake. Maybe a free meal wasn’t worth such boredom. After several more minutes of silence (that felt like hours), his irritation was palpable.
“I don’t know why you insisted on this dinner.” He said, finally. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
Henry seemed a bit surprised by that comment. Either it was mild surprise or a look of disinterest—hard to tell with Henry's perpetually stoic expression. He continued chewing for a moment before finally responding.
"Are you not enjoying yourself?" Henry asked.
Bunny had to fight the urge to throw the fucking bottle at his face.
“Are you kidding me?” Bunny said, annoyed, “The only reason why I didn’t leave yet is because the food looks expensive. I’m not leaving this plate empty.”
He took a mouthful of salad and chewed it loudly out of annoyance. The conversation was completely lost. Their dinner was tense and uncomfortable. Henry returned back to his plate, as if a minor inconvenience had interrupted him before.
"It is expensive, yes. But you needn't eat that if you don't find it appetizing. Order something else if you wish."
Bunny stared at Henry coldly, but there was a glimmer in his eyes.
Really, just like that? Henry would be okay if Bunny just wasted an entire dish and went for something else?
“Tell me, do you always eat in silence when you dine with other people?” Bunny said finally, still chewing his salad.
Henry blinked at Bunny, after a short pause, "I don't normally dine with people."
Bunny scoffed cruelly, folding his arms over his chest.
“Because nobody wants to be friends with you?”
"Because I don't care for most people." Henry replied brusquely. It almost felt like Bunny was intruding on his dinner time– which was ridiculous considering the man had asked him to accompany him to dinner in the first place!
“And yet, here I am,” Bunny said bitterly, taking another sip of the wine, “Suffering in your presence.”
He didn’t know why he was being so particularly cruel. What was stopping him, for instance, from just getting up and storming off? He didn’t care for Henry’s feelings at all– Henry was everything he despised. A pretentious, walled off, egotistical freak.
But then, Bunny was….morbidly curious.
Yes, that must have been it. He’d never met someone as odd as Henry before, and he was curious to know more. Additionally, the free dinner.
It wasn’t everyday Bunny dined like this.
As Bunny grumbled under his breath and took an unnecessarily violent swig from his glass, Henry sighed. He put his spoon down.
"I am trying."
Bunny stopped eating.
“What?”
"I am trying to be nice to you." Henry said as he stared at the tablecloth.
“You’re doing a very shitty job at it.”
That made Henry look up at Bunny.
And then the unthinkable happened.
Henry scoffed, but he did it with a….it couldn’t be. Was that a…smile ?
Bunny was caught so off guard that he squinted, leaning just a centimeter forward to confirm if the spectacle in front of him was real, or a trick of the eyes. It couldn’t really be described as a big old smile of warmth, it was more of a ghost of a smirk– but any emotion at this point was impressive enough.
In fact, Henry’s muted smile sent a jolt through Bunny’s body.
"Please," Henry motioned to Bunny's plate, to urge him into eating.
Bunny frowned, but ate a few more mouthfuls in awkward silence. Both of them seemed to have a hard time eating. Henry still managed to seem almost charming in his stoicism, which only fed Bunny’s confusion and his growing resentment. Bunny felt as though he was in the company of several different men, each wearing Henry Winter’s face.
After a small pause.
"I am from Missouri." Henry stated, suddenly, staring at his food as he ate.
Nothing alarming from the statement (apart from the fact that the image of Missouri and Henry was not compatible)-- but it was so random that Bunny nearly choked on a piece of tomato.
“What?”
"My hometown. I came to Vermont for college." Henry looked up at him, an eyebrow arched. "You are from...?"
“Boston. And what in God’s name possessed you to go to college in Vermont? No, wait, let me guess."
Bunny took a sip of wine and cleared his throat.
“I’m gonna get this one for sure. Your father sent you here.”
Henry leaned back into his chair and shook his head– there might have been a hint of a snarl at his lips, but it was gone so quickly that Bunny might have imagined it.
"I chose Hampden college. I'd heard great things about the Classics department."
“Huh, huh huh.” Bunny stroked his chin. “Whatever. Why do you want to study Classics so badly? Don’t tell me it was your choice .”
"I am rather passionate about it, yes."
Bunny fixed his gaze across the table, leaning back in his chair. Empty plates sat between them. Unfazed, Henry poured himself some wine, appearing indifferent to Bunny's scrutinizing stare. Another silence enveloped them, with Bunny seemingly dissecting every detail of Henry's demeanor.
“Do you really have emotions?” Bunny broke the silence, dead serious.
Henry’s eyebrows rose a little, "Pardon?"
"You heard me. People, they smile, they laugh, they cry. I’ve seen you smirk once, I think, and you can talk pretty smoothly-“ Bunny broke off, as if he just didn’t have the words.
“But it doesn’t seem like you really feel anything.”
Henry seemed to consider for a moment. after a while, he shrugged,
"I don't feel as much as I should, I suppose."
Bunny's jaw dropped a bit. He was so confused.
"Why? What does that even mean?" he said, exasperated. "You only partially feel emotions? Is that what you're saying?"
"I do not know. Emotions and experiences are complicated. One can never really know what the correct manner of experiencing emotions is." Henry said calmly, not really understand the basis of Bunny’s shock.
And now Bunny was getting truly confused. Aside from the general absurdity of that statement, it was almost insulting to Bunny's own emotional sensibilities that someone like Henry would speak of emotions with such... detachment.
"Yeah, but... aren't you supposed to feel emotions, not think about them?" Bunny said, hesitantly.
"But then again, not everyone would feel even the same emotion in the same way."
It wasn’t an entirely ridiculous idea, Bunny realized. There was some wisdom to it, but he felt that Henry’s interpretation of the whole concept was twisted somehow.
“I’m not gonna pretend to be a philosopher here and talk about how different people experience emotions,” he said, “but there’s definitely something... off about you, Henry.”
"So I've been told." Henry muttered quietly.
Bunny felt another flicker of irritation, but said nothing. Henry’s tone had just been so... dismissive, as if Bunny's insult didn’t even affect him in the slightest. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or fascinated. For someone so used to being so expressive, for someone who knew he was alive purely based on the intensity of the emotions he felt– this was alien. Never had he met someone so stoic. Not even Mother.
At least when Bunny had acted out with her, she had shown something– yes, irritation, anger– but it was something , at the very least. Something he’d begun to seek out from others, then.
"Are you ready for the main course?" Henry looked up at Bunny, breaking his train of thought.
“Yes, yes.” Bunny said.
They placed their orders, Henry ordered the ossobuco.
Bunny decided to go with a spaghetti bolognese, and they sat in silence, again . Henry was not doing anything in particular. He just sat quietly, watching Bunny, or studying the art hanging on the walls around them. By the time their food arrived, Bunny realized he had his jaw clenched shut so hard that his teeth had started to hurt.
Just when he had thought Henry was making an attempt at breaking the ice, Henry had fallen silent again.
This was the most expensive, shittiest apology Bunny had ever received.
When their meals arrived, Henry elected to eat in silence once more.
Henry noticed Bunny's slow eating.
"Do you not like the dish?" He asked, watching him stab his fork at the spaghetti dejectedly.
Bunny suddenly realized he had bigger problems. Henry’s voice, in that moment…. it was almost addictive to hear that deep broody voice coming from this man, with his cold unblinking eyes. He couldn’t help feeling a small stir in his loins. But when he realized this, he forced himself to put up his walls, lest he made a fool of himself. It was just Henry’s voice. Nothing else.
“No, it’s just this conversation. I can’t bear having to sit here and listen to the sound of you chewing. It’s irritating me.”
Bunny felt his face get uncomfortably hot, and as he did that, he couldn’t help but notice that Henry was looking at him from above his round glasses. His expression was blank, but his eyes were following Bunny’s. Then, Henry Winter started to eat again and Bunny felt a twinge of irritation, then of longing, then of frustration, then of a hundred different emotions all at once.
"Not much of a conversation, is it?" Henry sighed finally. He sat up.
His eyes held Bunny’s.
"I really would like for us to get along."
“I seriously doubt that.” Bunny spat with contempt as he glared at his food. “I can’t bear the tension anymore. You say nothing, you do nothing, you’d have me think you have no emotions at all.”
He paused. His expression softened a little and he sighed, still pouting over his food.
“You aren’t happy I’m here, are you?”
Almost immediately, Henry replied, "I am pleased that you came."
Bunny raised an eyebrow at this– he looked up, eyes a little wide. He perked up a little, like an orphan being picked at the orphanage.
“You are?” he asked, skeptical. “Why?”
"Because I invited you." Henry said.
There was yet another silence. Bunny didn’t understand if that was offensive or not. What was the meaning of that?
“That’s it?” It was becoming increasingly difficult to view Henry as anything other than an extremely self absorbed person.
"It meant you were willing to accept my apology." Henry said bluntly.
“Yeah, well, I’m having second thoughts about the whole thing.”
“I don’t understand what it is you want from me here.”
Bunny sighed. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, as if to say ‘My god!’.
How, how could he not know what was wrong here?! Was he that much of a social reject!?
Bunny could have been straightforward about the whole thing, but in his stubbornness, he didn’t want to.
His head snapped back and he put an elbow on the table, stabbing the air with the fork to point at Henry.
“So you really have nothing to talk about?” His tone was belligerent and angry. “You really thought this whole dinner out, then? You planned on staring at your food the entire fucking time and grunting out answers to all my questions?”
Henry paused mid-drink. He swallowed the wine after a moment and set his glass down.
“What!?” Bunny snapped, voice rising a little, “Did you really think a simple dinner would cut it!? That you’d treat me to some expensive food and that would be an adequate apology!? Sorry to say, man, but your rich-boy tactics don't impress me one bit."
Bunny went on, venting as he poured himself some more wine, “Why should they? I’m not a broke bloke or a desperate lass. Why should you waving your money in my face matter to me, huh? No, you answer me! What do you take me for?”
Some other guests around them were curiously peeking at their table, but Bunny didn’t care.
He just didn’t.
He was so angry, so hateful– and he didn’t understand why. Which made him even more hateful.
And Henry…he was just…. eating .
In complete silence, he had given Bunny just a glance or two, and even those were disinterested. It made Bunny’s blood boil, the way Henry looked at him like he was nothing. The way he refused to give Bunny an ounce of his undivided attention.
"Tell me about yourself." Henry said randomly.
Bunny was stumped. Bewildered.
He felt like grabbing Henry’s collar and throwing him to the floor and punching him till he bled.
“Oh you want to know about me, do you?” he snarled, “I need to keep pinching you to get a conversation out of you, do I?” Sarcasm and hate laced his tone.
It wasn’t even the fact that Henry asked him that– it was that he wouldn’t even look at him while asking him about him. Who behaved like that!
“What would you like to know, sir?” Bunny asked, with mock-formality.
"Whatever you want me to know."
Great. He didn’t even have a specific question in mind– he just wanted Bunny to keep talking, to save himself from the awkwardness of this encounter. To keep Bunny from arguing. Did Henry really not care? Did he really not want to know anything about Bunny? Could he not even put in a bit more effort?
It was infuriating.
It was almost fascinating.
It was all Bunny could do to keep himself from kicking his chair over and storming out of the restaurant.
Henry suddenly put his fork down. He looked up at Bunny.
"I am sensing hostility. Did I offend you?"
“I’m not offended! Just annoyed. You’re just…” Bunny struggled, he tried to think of what he wanted to say, “Well, you’re acting like a complete douchebag!”
He let that outburst happen, and then he turned around in his seat to his left and took a few deep breaths as he stared at some old, faded art hanging on the wall. He would not make a scene in public because he was too emotionally immature to have a calm discussion with Henry Winter.
Well…not a scene bigger than this.
Henry blinked at Bunny, watching him breathe deeply.
"I was not trying to irk you." He said quietly.
Bunny looked back at him. Henry was sitting completely still, his arms at his sides, looking at him.
“I don’t believe you. Every single thing you’ve done since we sat down has been irritating.”
"Perhaps you just do not like me. Was this a mistake?" Henry asked the question more to himself than to Bunny. He looked off to the side, almost disappointed.
Henry’s facial expression bothered Bunny almost as much as his lack of emotion. He sat back in his seat.
He didn’t feel quite like screaming at Henry anymore. He felt the anger seeping out of him. He felt slightly embarrassed for his outburst, and then he felt this intense desperation to make Henry not-disappointed. He couldn’t put his finger on it, why he suddenly sought his approval.
“Our conversations are like pulling teeth. You ask something, in the most dismissive manner possible, then I answer, and you either say another one-liner or you lapse into silence and stare at your food until you’re forced to ask another question. Was this failure of a dinner just to piss me off or make me feel bad? Because that’s all our conversation has done for me.”
"I, for one, enjoyed our discussions." Henry said quietly.
Bunny tilted his head slightly. “So you’re saying you have been trying to earnestly be nice this whole time?” he said, unsure whether Henry was joking or not.
"What reason would I have to not be earnest with you?" Henry sighed. "Look, I’m trying, but I suppose I’m not very good at this.”
“No, I suppose not.” Bunny huffed, but he wasn’t as belligerent as before. Henry seemed to really mean what he was saying, which softened Bunny’s heart a little. Bunny felt more uncomfortable with that realization, but for some reason, it felt refreshing.
“I’m just….I don’t know what to make of you. Like… like you don’t feel emotion. You sit there and just eat your food and stare. And you don’t feel embarrassed by that at all. It’s like you don’t care what anyone thinks. You don’t seem to care about anything.”
"I care about Greek literature and history," Henry offered, as if to placate Bunny.
For some reason, that statement just…made him look so innocent, with his glasses reflecting off the dim light of the restaurant. Bunny felt a strange affection pool in his heart, but it was gone as quickly as it had come on.
But as Bunny stared at Henry, he wondered, did Henry actually care more about literature and history than people? Why would he? Or maybe he just wanted to make a point? Was he really trying to say that his interests were superior?
“But you don’t seem to care about anything else.” Bunny continued, his tone slightly softer than in previous statements. “Can you feel compassion for someone else? Can you feel empathy? Can you feel love?”
Henry was quiet for a moment.
He stared into his wine glass, swishing it a little before taking a swig.
" You know, I really would like to know about you."
Bunny’s eyebrow twitched. There he went again, ignoring something Bunny had asked. Perhaps that was answer enough….
“What do you want to know?” he said simply.
"I would say whatever you want me to know, but last time I said that you got offended."
Bunny paused, unsure of how to respond. The fact that Henry seemed to be expressing at least a little bit of interest in him was nice.
“Because it felt like you didn’t really care, you weren’t specific. I’m not here for a job interview.” Bunny fumed, looking like a petulant child.
"I didn’t want to intrude, that’s why I said tell me whatever you want. But if you must insist on me being specific– Tell me, what are you majoring in?"
“Political science. What are you majoring in?” he said.
"Classics," Henry replied, he seemed a little more intrigued now, nodding to himself as he looked at Bunny, as if something just made sense.
“At the risk of sounding like an interviewer again, what are your goals for the future?” Henry asked, unable to contain himself.
“Well, I consider this to be pre-law. But I want to be a lawyer.”
"Interesting." Henry nodded again, fingers drumming against the table.
Bunny suddenly leaned forward, resting both his elbows on the table and leaning forward, peering at Henry. “You know what I am interested in? You. I want to know how someone like you can exist.”
"Someone like me?” Henry repeated slowly.
"Yes. You seem like the kind of person who does not experience feelings. You seem like the opposite of a sensitive soul, completely removed from reality. And you don't even seem to care. How? How can one exist like that? What must your life feel like?"
Henry was silent, then he wiped his eye from under his glasses– for a minute, that stoic aura faded, and Bunny saw a tired, sleepless man.
“I can’t quite comprehend you either.”
“How so?” Bunny asked.
“You seem quite….reactive. I don’t understand why you react so strongly to such mild stimuli. Half the time, you misunderstand or wrongly perceive little things to be major slights, made specifically to annoy you.”
Bunny couldn’t tell if Henry was calling him a baby or not, but he couldn’t say he was wrong.
“You act totally unfazed by everything,” he countered, “and maybe I am more sensitive, but I really don’t think having a bit more emotions is a problem that’s too big.”
“Well then, to our mutual oddities.” Henry raised his wine glass.
Bunny smiled. “To our mutual oddities.” He clinked his wine glass gently against Henry’s.
Then they both threw their heads back, but perhaps Bunny was a bit too quick because shortly after he was coughing, feeling the wine in the wrong airway. It wasn’t anything too serious; a few punches to his chest, and a slight reddening of his cheeks as he calmed down.
Henry laughed a little– his teeth pearly and straight.
Bunny’s embarrassment fizzled away; what a nice laugh. What a charming smile.
“ I think I’m getting the hang of you now. But I wonder, you’re like this even with your closest friends and your family?”
Henry inhaled a little, looking thoughtful.
“I don’t spend time with my family. But I do have a close friend.”
Bunny was surprised, but not really. “Well, at least you have one, I suppose. Who if I may ask?”
“He is my professor. Julian Morrow.”
“You’re close with your professor?” Bunny raised an eyebrow. “Are you… are you friends? Like equals?”
“Yes.” Henry nodded. “We have dinners every now and then— and they’re not quite like this one. We profusely discuss Greek myths, we discuss their culture, analyze the theories.”
Bunny didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t hard to picture a man like Henry being the type that enjoyed sitting around, drinking wine, and talking about Greek mythology. In fact, it sounded just like the sort of thing he would do.
“Did he teach you to be like this or are you completely different with him?” Bunny asked curiously, not caring if he came off as too nosy.
“I have always been like this.” Henry hummed. “But I am a little more comfortable around Julian.”
“I see. I see.”
Bunny didn’t quite know what to feel about that. He tried to imagine himself being close friends with a professor of his, and it just didn’t seem like a good idea. Yes, he had teachers in the past who he liked, and respected, but he couldn’t even imagine them as friends. The bond of a mentor and mentee was, in his opinion, sacred as it was. Friendship would blur the lines..
“How did you become friends with Professor Morrow, may I ask?”
“I read his works when I was in school. I began reaching out to him and asking him to review my own articles and writings. He guided me from then on. I applied to Hampden for him.”
"So you had a professional admiration for him." Bunny tried to put two and two together, but this whole thing just felt off. "Do you have a personal fascination with him as well? Do you admire him as a person, or just a professor?"
“I hold him in the highest regard.” Henry nodded.
"In the highest regard." Bunny repeated quietly, trying to picture or understand that. He couldn’t.
“And you? Have you any close friends?” Henry asked, as a waiter came up to their table to take away their plates.
“I’ve got a lot of friends,” Bunny shrugged, though answering that question made him feel awkward. In all honesty, he couldn’t think of anyone that classified as ‘close’, but that was so pathetic (even Henry had a close friend, as odd as the relationship seemed) so Bunny just shrugged.
“I’m pretty close with everyone.”
“Fascinating. You’re a bit of a social butterfly, then.” Henry said. “Have you any siblings?”
“Yes, four older brothers.” Bunny sipped wine, slowly this time. “You have any siblings?”
Henry shook his head.
“I am an only child.”
“Really? How was it? Having the undivided attention of your parents? I imagine it must’ve been nice.” Bunny laughed.
“How was it being the baby of the family? I’m assuming you got spoiled to the bone.” Henry was smirking, despite having scoffed.
“My upbringing was good,” Bunny said quickly. “It was a good childhood.”
Though he hoped it wasn’t obvious how his eyes fell to the floor as he said that, and he hoped Henry didn’t hear the trace of an underlying sadness there.
“Mine as well.” Henry ran his fingers around the edge of the table, absentmindedly, unknowingly participating in that small game of bluff.
There was another pause in the conversation, but this time, Bunny didn’t seem annoyed by it. In fact, he might not even have noticed it. After a deep inhale, he suddenly regained his chatty energy and leaned forward again.
“So, Henry, are you dating anyone?”
“No.” Came the reply.
Bunny smiled, “Me neither, though I hope to find someone soon enough.”
Henry’s lips parted a little, and he looked like he had something to ask, but Bunny was rushing into his follow-up question, with a mischievous grin.
“Can you imagine someone marrying you?” Bunny asked. It was a strange question, almost out of character, but something about Henry made Bunny want to get his take on this. He felt it would be interesting, to say the least.
Henry paused, “Marrying me, specifically?”
Bunny nodded.
“I don’t think I understand the question.” Henry chuckled, bemused.
His laughter– as rare as it was– felt infectious. Bunny laughed too, “I mean, can you imagine a woman actually wanting to marry you?”
“Hmm. I suppose I never thought of it.” Henry’s smile was quivering, like he was trying hard to suppress it.
What an absurd question.
“But what would you want?” Bunny pressed, feeling encouraged by the upwards curving of Henry’s mouth. It felt like a bit of a personal question to ask Henry, but Henry didn’t seem to be bothered by it. “Do you want to be married? Ever?”
“Not particularly,” Henry exhaled sharply through his nose, “It seems like quite the hassle, sharing my entire life with someone. I like to keep to myself.”
That response was quite on par with Henry, but it made Bunny wonder. Henry had never shared his life with someone? At all?
“So you’ve never… you’ve never had a girlfriend?” Bunny asked, voice an awed whisper.
“I’ve had temporary arrangements.”
“Temporary arrangements, huh?” Bunny raised an eyebrow. That was an odd way to put it.
“Yes. I hate the casual fling term.” Henry stated, with an air of refinement that didn’t even feel pretentious.
“Temporary arrangements is much classier, won’t lie.” Bunny said, almost sarcastically, but he wasn’t really being sarcastic. He actually kind of agreed. “So…you’ve had…one-nighters?”
“Not frequently.”
Bunny laughed loudly at this. Henry was probably a lot more suave with the ladies than he let on.
Henry didn’t understand what was so funny, he just watched Bunny with a quirked brow.
“It’s just… strange.” Bunny explained. “You seem to be quite the catch, and, well, here you are doing this ‘temporary arrangement’ thing.” Bunny waved a hand dismissively.
“Can I ask how old you are?”
“I am 18.”
“ 18 ?” Bunny’s jaw dropped, “Well no wonder you don’t want anything serious!!” Bunny exclaimed.
He’s just a baby, he thought. Even though Henry acted 20 years older than his actual age….he was only just a baby.
“Let’s see… what was I at 18?” Bunny thought for a moment. “No, I wasn’t married, obviously. I was with my first girlfriend of 2 years, however.”
“You are older than me?” Henry seemed shocked. He’d almost spat out his wine.
Bunny laughed– at the reaction, and the thought.
“How old do you think I am?”
“Nineteen, at the very maximum .” Henry said decidedly.
“How kind of you to say,” Bunny chuckled, but he was pleased that Henry thought he was so young. “In reality, I am 21.”
Henry looked like the biggest news had been delivered to him. He tried to keep his reaction controlled tightly to avoid reacting too much, but…
“3 entire years.” Henry’s eyes widened a little. “My god.”
“Three years isn't so bad.” Bunny said. And then, very casually, “So, you want to know how old I was when I got married?”
“You are married?” Henry asked with an urgency, he almost dropped his jaw. Speechless, “At 21?”
Bunny burst out laughing. He laughed so hard his eyes watered, and much to Henry’s irritation, he didn’t explain the reason for his laughter until after he had calmed down, and was wiping the tears from his eyes.
“No, Henry. I’m not married. I’m not even close.”
He looked at Henry and felt a strange tug at his heart. Henry seemed naive, young– which was an odd fact to marry to the image of the stoic, cold scholar Bunny had thought him to be. He felt the urge to look out for him a bit.
“Then….you lied?” Henry frowned, more out of confusion than anger.
“It was just a joke,” Bunny smiled warmly, “You’re a very literal person, aren’t you? Do I seem like I’m the sort that would be married?”
“Not one bit. I was under the impression that you were younger than me.” Henry sighed, then he asked, “Would you like to order dessert now?”
“That makes more sense. I should like… cheesecake, please.”
Henry nodded and placed an order for a cheesecake and a caramel nut tart for himself. Bunny smiled subtly as he engaged with the waiter. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and Henry's peculiarities had left a lasting impression. Despite Bunny's internal resistance, an inexplicable desire to befriend this enigmatic man lingered, though he would rather perish on the spot than admit that.
After the waiter left, Henry pulled out a pack of smokes and lit a cigarette. This time, he didn’t offer Bunny the cigs.
“You don’t smoke,” Henry said with the cigarette held between his lips, eyes cast down as he lit it, “Why?”
“It’s unhealthy. Destroys your body, you know.” Bunny shrugged.
Henry scoffed loudly, shaking his head.
“Unhealthy.” He repeated. Then he let his gaze wander over the restaurant.
“It is rather calming. You ought to try it.”
Bunny rolled his eyes.
“No thanks. And you don’t believe me, do you? You won’t find a single medical expert who’ll agree that this is healthy. ”
For a reason unbeknownst to even Bunny, Bunny was feeling a lot more concerned about Henry’s welfare than he should have. He wanted to nag him for smoking, and make him give it up– but he also didn’t want to, because while he thought smoking was terrible, some people certainly looked charming when they smoked.
“I am aware of the medical community’s consensus.”
“So you know it’s unhealthy, and you do it anyway?”
“You drink. Drinking is unhealthy. Do you pick and choose what to preach at your convenience?” Henry said calmly, not belligerent or annoyed. He was as cool as a cucumber.
But did that really change the fact that there was a concealed jab in that sentence?
“I drink in moderation,” Bunny chewed his words, “You’re a chainsmoker.”
Yes, Bunny had taken note of the fact. Again, he could feel the heat of rage rise in him– just what was it about this man that drove him so high up the wall? He waited for Henry to say something, but Henry was just watching him with narrowed eyes, the smoke curling upwards from his mouth.
“Sorry to say,” Bunny said, with a haughty tone, “But it’s a filthy habit.”
That made Henry chuckle.
And once again, what a beautiful sound– but Bunny felt mocked.
“What? Why are you laughing?” He snapped.
Say something smart. He’s smarter than you, so be smart.
That was it, wasn’t it? Henry was looking down on him. He considered him an idiot.
“Smoking is stupid,” Bunny pressed, “Not just stupid, but ugly. And selfish. I can’t get my head around the idea that anyone intelligent and well-educated could do it.”
Henry nodded along, but it felt condescending.
Bunny could just tell, by that small smirk at Henry’s lips, that he was being made fun of.
“What’s funny?” Quick, venomous.
“Relax, Bunny.” Henry smiled at him. He laughed again, like he’d just seen or heard the darndest thing.
“Don’t ‘ Relax, Bunny’ me.” Bunny snapped. It was out of nowhere, this anger. He knew that Henry, just by looking at him, had driven him to it. He felt frustrated. He just wanted to be good enough.
“You know you can be such a jerk. I don’t understand why the hell you’re smiling.”
And just like that, Henry’s smile faded and his features assumed their usual, neutral positions. He stared at Bunny with a long, hard look before turning his head a little to gaze around the restaurant. He didn’t have anything to look at– he just didn’t want to look at Bunny, lest he trigger another one of his damn temper tantrums.
Bunny followed Henry’s line of sight, and then with an annoyed grunt he looked away too.
Did I ruin everything again?
He was annoyed with himself and, as always, Henry was a convenient target for some reason– maybe because he always just took whatever Bunny had to say. All he’d done tonight was stare blankly at Bunny’s outbursts. But now that Bunny stole a glance at him, as a waiter was placing their desserts down in front of them, Bunny noticed something different about Henry.
He looked….cold. Not in a detached way, as usual– he looked just about done with the night. Was it anger or disgust? Whatever it was, Bunny felt so pathetic he wanted to implode.
“Look, Henry, I’m sorry. I just get… annoyed with you when you tease me. For some reason I... I take it personally.”
Henry ate his dessert in silence for a while.
Bunny waited for Henry to speak. He was a few bites into the cheesecake, despite the nausea. He looked at Henry and felt a strange warmth inside of him.
An affection.
It was like he’d known him for so long.
“It’s fine.” Henry mumbled, without looking up.
“Are you sure?” Bunny asked.
Another minute of silence ticked by.
“Are you...angry?”
“No.” Henry said simply.
And Bunny didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure Henry had even meant for him to believe it– it felt like he hadn’t. But he didn’t want to argue anymore so he just nodded and ate some more cheesecake.
“Okay. Good.”
Everything after that happened swiftly. The waiter came around with the cheque, and Henry paid the hefty sum without so much as a blink of an eye. And the tip he left was heavy, too.
Bunny found himself impressed– Henry didn’t even ask him to split. Well, that would make sense, considering he was treating Bunny as an apology, but had the roles been reversed and that bill been presented to Bunny….
After that, the two of them got up and, with Henry leading, they left the restaurant. Henry was immediately walking to the car, without pausing to take in the cool breeze or the sight of the plaza being so well lit up that it exuded cozy warmth even in the harsh cold.
“I need to make a quick stop at the pharmacy. Is that alright with you?” Henry asked neutrally, as they sat inside. He didn’t really seem to be asking.
“Sure.” Bunny shrugged. “Are you alright?”
“Just fine.” Henry answered, beginning to rummage through the contents of the glove compartment. His demeanor remained neutral, but with subtle tension in the air, it was intended to be interpreted as a silent and cold dismissal.
The car pulled away from the restaurant, merging into the evening traffic. As usual, Henry drove too fast. But there was something different now– Bunny took note of the car's subtle swerves and the way it hugged the curves of the road with a touch more urgency. Bunny glanced at Henry, who seemed lost in thought, distracted.
Strangely, that was the moment when Bunny randomly recalled the discussion he’d had with his friends just a few hours ago. Their comments floated in and out of his head, and suddenly, Bunny grew anxious.
He hadn’t been particularly nice to Henry during the dinner…
“Where are we going, Henry?” Bunny asked, with a slight desperation in his tone.
Silence. Henry didn’t seem to hear him.
“We’ve been driving for quite some time.” Bunny commented, pointedly.
More silence.
“Are we still going to the pharmacy?” This was asked in a much weaker tone.
For another long moment, Henry said nothing, but then he spoke through gritted teeth.
“Of course.”
Why did he speak like that? Bunny sat up a little, watching the scenery outside pass by in faster and faster blurs. Wouldn’t a pharmacy be nearby? Why were they driving away from town?
“You’re not driving me to somewhere weird, are you? Somewhere where you plan to hack me up into little tiny pieces…”
There was another short pause, and then Henry spoke up, sounding a little distant– as if he were speaking from another room.
“What?”
“You’re not going to drive me to an abandoned shed and then murder me dead, are you?” Bunny asked again, deeming his impulsivity as uncharacteristically courageous and characteristically idiotic.
Henry’s eyes darted from the road to Bunny, he looked strange. Bunny didn’t know if it was the dim lighting in the car but Henry looked deathly white.
“ What ?” He repeated, this time sounding incredulous.
Bunny’s heart was beating so fast he thought it would beat out of his chest or go into cardiac arrest.
“You know, like Ted Bundy.”
Henry was silent, and Bunny didn’t know what to interpret that silence as. Surprise, anger, or was this a quiet way of admitting to Bunny that he was right about the whole thing. Bunny’s breath caught in his throat.
As it turned out, it was neither of those things.
“Who is that?” Henry glanced sideways at him again.
“Ted Bundy?” Bunny asked, surprised. How did Henry not know the name? “You know, the serial killer?”
The word “killer” had barely left Bunny’s mouth when the car cut sharply to the right, the sudden movement sending Bunny slamming into the passenger side door. The tires screeched against the asphalt, and the car came to an abrupt halt on the side of the road.
Thankfully, nobody had been driving behind them, otherwise….
Bunny's heart pounded in his chest as he looked wide-eyed at Henry, breathing heavily. Henry was sitting quietly, still as pale as ever, staring at the steering wheel. He seemed shaken up. Bunny hadn’t expected that reaction at all– he felt guilty, but also confused.
“Oh, dear. I lost control for a moment.” Henry said quietly.
Bunny felt a strange mixture of sympathy and confusion towards Henry. What the hell is wrong with this guy? And why did Bunny care so much about the whys and the hows? Why did he want to take care of him?
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Bunny said, eyes still wide. The shock of the whole ordeal kept him shivering.
Henry seemed to have forgotten Bunny was there. He blinked at him as if he’d materialized out of nowhere.
“Oh. Well. That’s not what made me lose my bearings.” Henry said quietly, his eyes standing out eerily on his pale face.
Henry was silent. He sat blankly for a moment.
Then he started driving again, although this time he tried to be careful.
They finally parked outside a clinic and pharmacy. Henry got out without a word and slammed the door shut. He staggered to the door of the pharmacy and went inside.
After about 5 minutes, he came outside with a small plastic bag in his hand. He sat back inside, stuffed the medicine in his pocket and began driving again. Bunny had a million questions, but he stayed– miraculously– very quiet.
They had 2 near-accidents on their way back to Hampden.
Henry pulled up in the college’s parking lot. The engine rumbled to a stop, and Bunny sat there for a moment, contemplating whether he should say something or let the strange events of the evening fade away.
Bunny turned to Henry. Then he said something he couldn't believe was coming out of his own mouth.
"Do you... dislike me, Henry?"
After tonight, it would make sense for him to hate Bunny’s guts.
“No. I barely know you.” Henry’s forehead was resting on his hands, still gripping the steering wheel.
How could so much be said in so few words?
And yet, for some reason, Bunny couldn't bring himself to feel truly vindictive.
“Are you okay?”
There was concern in Bunny’s voice. For all of Henry’s faults, Bunny did care about him. And he wanted to know if something was wrong. Henry didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He didn’t even sit upright. He just kept rubbing his forehead a little against his knuckles.
“Henry?”
“I’m fine. Please, just leave me alone.”
Bunny sighed, deciding to finally give up. He muttered a thanks for the dinner and left the car, making for their dorm room, wondering how awkward it would be between them from then on.