Touch Me (Like You Used Too)

Touch Me (Like You Used To)

The door slammed open and William dropped the drill he was holding the noise startling him out of his focus. The tool landed on his foot making him jump and cry out, "Fuck!" he groaned a bit and picked up the tool inspecting it as his toe throbbed a bit from the impact. There didn't appear to be any damage to it. He could not say the same for his toe, it was definitely going to be bruised even through his shoes. Wiping his hands off on the rag he had hung around his belt, he glanced over at the source of the disturbance finally.

His business partner Henry had just stormed into their half-workshop and half-office. The place was always a mess due to its duality of function. There were mechanical parts all over the place, along with tools and other equipment. The desk that sat haphazardly in the center was covered in papers. Some of them were blueprints, while others were other important documents like their patents. Which, William admits should be in a safe - but they just haven't gotten around to installing it yet.

The brunette furrows his brows at his ginger companion, who looks like he might punch his fist through a wall. He knows the look across Henry's face all too well, as the man loosens his tie muttering curses under his breath. Even if he hadn't come into the office as aggressively as he did, William would instantly notice the way his hands are shaking - which means the meeting with the potential investors had not gone as they hoped. He could already guess what might be going through the man's mind: he was first, going to be angry like he was now: but the frustration and anger only lasted so long. After that, Henry's destructive thoughts would kick in, he would begin to drive himself mad as he questioned 'what if' and blamed himself for the failure of the meeting. That's when the tears would come - that the tan ginger would desperately try to wipe away before anyone, including William, saw.

But the British man has seen this too many times to be fooled. And for both of their sakes, he has learned how to step in before tears ever came.

He stands and approaches Henry as he slumps into the desk chair, slamming the briefcase he carries down beside him. "Let me guess, they didn't invest?"

Deep hazel doe-like eyes behind square glasses filled with swirling anger and defeat met icy-blue ones. "Not one fucking cent. I don't know what I'm doing wrong! Fuck! Will, I told you - you have to do these kinds of meetings, I just don't have enough charisma! The bastards were looking at their watches not even five minutes into my presentation."

William rolls his eyes a bit, sometimes, he feels like Henry overreacts a bit to failure. While the taller male doesn't like failure any more than the next person, he at least accepts and learns from it a lot easier than the stubborn Henry. Well, when he believes that failure is a completely normal outcome. When he fails at things that he was certain he wouldn't, that's when he ends up just like his partner - maybe even worse. A mess, questioning what went wrong. The only difference there, was where Henry blamed himself, William blames anything but.

"I don't think it would have made a difference if I gave it. It's the tech that's the problem, the world just isn't ready for it yet!" Wiliam reassures the man softly, circling his way around the desk so he can stand behind the other. He grabs onto Henry's shoulder and squeezes it a bit. "But just wait until I get my inheritance. Then, we'll be well on our way to making Frebear's a reality! Then, those investors will be sorry they didn't buy into us now!"

"If you say so..." came a soft voice in reply, and Henry has propped his elbow on the messy desk in front of him.

His beard-covered chin was pressed into his hand as he stared off into the distance. William frowned, shit, he knew that tone of voice. It was filled with a soft hint of defeat along with the sharpest edge of disappointment. Most people would never be able to pick up on such minuscule changes in Henry's voice, but he could tell you the difference between the slightest infliction of the pitch in the ginger's words. He has always been an observant man, analyzing people's behaviors and movements even before they introduced themselves to him. And Henry was one of the few people he's had the pleasure of observing for years learning every in and out of his body language. He understood Henry better than he did himself at this point.