Time

Four

Third person's view

Of course.  The God was already aware of what the short brunet wanted from him in the first place.  Answers to an event he wasn't even in.

But,  he nodded his head.  Just because he wasn't here doesn't mean he didn't know of it.  He was aware of the things that happened,  completely remembering them due to how great his memory was when it came to stuff like these.

The brunet wore a bright grin on his face,  notepad placed on one hand while his pencil tapped it,  resting on his other hand.  It was a habit the brunet did when he was nervous.  Tapping the end of the pencil to the pad he was writing on. Sometimes, the God even noticed there was a sort of pattern the brunet did. 

He asked once what it was,  finding out It was an old melody that Henry's mother always hummed for him as a lullaby. The memory stayed fresh and sweet inside Henry's mind, aging like fine wine.

It kept getting better and better.  For him,  it was a sense of comfort that he most desperately wanted and needed to keep.

To the God,  it was the only thing that comforted the brunet forever until his death.  Something he could've done.

"Wonderful! I hope I am not interruptting your night for the ball though." Henry said,  claiming that he was embarrassed of stealing the God attention.  He always did, after all.

The God merely shook his head,  offering a soft smile that was unseen behind his mask.  He remembered that little detail and the smile was replaced by a frown immediately,  letting himself cough awkwardly at that.

Henry tilted his head at the sudden awkward cough he gave out, making him shake his head once more.

"I apologize.  I just did something stupid under my mask as I forgot I had it on."

"Not a man to wear a mask that much?"
He teased out, chewing on the ends of his pencil as he kept his eyes on the other's mask, shining in an interested and curious manner.  As it always did.

He chuckled out,  playing along even after he heard this a million times already.

"Why,  yes.  Yes I am.  How did you know?"

"I am a journalist.  I am supposed to know. " That sentence was then laced with sweet laughter that came out from him,  always finding it funny when people were surprised of how observant he was.

The God was good at faking his emotions even Henry didn't know he only feigned his shock, but he'd do anything to hear that sweet laughter.

He admits that he was truly shocked the first time around,  but after hearing it for multiple times like a broken record,  he was forced to act shocked. He grew tired of the sentences he couldn't change,  the emotions he had to recreate.

But,  he'd never grow tired of the man in front of him.

Another soft smile was placed on his lips behind his mask from the thought and sight before him, his hands then fumbling with eachother behind his cloak as the journalist starts to flick his notepad pages to find the questions he wrote out before hand.

He let out a small 'Aha!' as he found it,  tapping his pencil once more on the page of the notepad.

"Are you ready?" He asked to know if the other was still awake of the interview and comfortable for it.

He only got a small nod back as he smiled once more.

"Alright! Let us start!  The first question is-"

He started to drone out after that, listening in to answer the questions he remembered by heart.  The only problem was,  he just didn't remember how long it took which made it blurry for him to remember either. It was the usual after the fifth time he heard the questions.  It was a pain to listen to.

Question after question,  answer after answer.  It was all the same and to him it was getting more difficult to keep track of which one's he's answering.

Henry noticed how he sometimes shrugs his shoulder like he was tired,  but chose not to say anything.  It may be a personal problem and he didn't want to be nosey on the first meeting.

He kept on answering his questions,  satisfying him with each answer that seemed to make him think of new questions on the spot.  The God was good company for the journalist as he let's his words run free, never judging him as he asks again and again.

His questions were never repetetive, both knew that as both didn't like repeating themselves. It was a chore to repeat and both liked writing it on a piece of paper instead if ever someone wanted to repeat it.  It would be easier.

The two continued talking about his questions,  the time traveller only watching from afar as they walked around the ballroom as they talked in hushed whispers,  the brunet suddenly bursting out in laughter at something the God said, making judgemental eyes turn towards him at times. 

He never bothered to check back as he didn't care about them.  As a journalist,  you shan't care about what others think of you.  If you're doing your job,  then you're doing something better than them.  That was what his boss always told him. Keep your head leveled and never go down your place just for other's standards.  You can rise,  but you can't fall.

His boss was most inspirational and he aspired to be like him one day.  Never doubting himself.  Never falling for any traps.  He was smart and skilled in writing about articles all day.

He was truly a hard working man.  Henry had a close bond with his boss,  even saying that he might be the one to take care of his business if ever something happens to him.  His boss didn't have a son nor wife as he focused too much on his career.

He aspired him so much that he even wanted to go down the path he did for himself only to be stopped by the boss himself.

"Henry,  never go down the same path as I did." He said. 

And with how much he loved his boss as a friend. He followed.