Afton Family Skits [OLD]

Old Photograph

Author's Note~

Warnings:
• Swearing

Somebody asked me if I would make any more William × Henry skits, and when he/she/they asked that, I remembered an old drawing/edit I made earlier this year when my art skills were crappier than they are now.

Yeah, I hate it. I've made much better stuff. -_-

Anywho! This sort of relates to "Dandelions," how Mike has an instant-film camera. Michael took this photo after Terrance died. Mike had been in his room, and when he went downstairs to ask William something, he found him sleeping on top of Henry. So he went and grabbed his camera, then took a photo of them.

Henry kept it but lost it a couple of years later. This story is when he (sorta) rediscovers it.

That's all! Enjoy.  :D

~ ~ ~

P.O.V: Henry

"Charlotte, let go!" I shout, laughter filling my words. I tug on the blanket. "I can't clean it if you don't let go."

"I don't want it cleaned!" my daughter exclaims irritably. She pulls on it as hard as she can, which isn't all that strong.

"How could you not want it cleaned? It smells like your barf from last night!" She drank a cup of milk last night, and because she's lactose intolerant, she ended up throwing up pretty much everything she ate since she forgot to take her lactase pills.

"I don't care! I just want my favorite blankie," she whines.

Finally, I manage to rip the blanket out of her hands. She screams unhappily, but I can't help but laugh. She's just like her brother, even though they're four years apart by death now. They were born twins, but Sammy died at age three while Charlie's life was spared. She didn't die until age seven.

"It'll only take an hour to clean. Why don't you go ask your brother if you can borrow his until then?"

"Fine," she grumbles, then storms out of the room. I chuckle to myself, then leave to go put the blanket in the washing machine.

I go downstairs to the laundry room, throw the blanket into the washing machine with some detergent, and start it.

"Hey."

I turn to the door, where William is standing. He's leaning against the frame, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"What's up?" I ask him.

"Care to explain this?" He holds up what looks like a piece of paper, so I go over to him and take it from his hand.

"Where did you find this?" I hold it up closer to the light to make sure I'm not just seeing things. "I've been looking for this for years!"

"I found it in that damned miscellaneous drawer of yours in your room." He stands up, no longer against the doorframe. "When was this taken? I don't ever remember you having someone take a photo that day."

"The time Mike locked himself in his room after Terrance died. He came out a while after you told him to go to bed, trying to ask you something, and he saw you sleeping on top of me."

"So... he took a picture of us?"

"No, Evan did," I say, my words dripping with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. "Yes, of course, it was him. He thought it was cute, so he took a picture. Claimed he needed a little bit of happiness in his life after what he'd done."

"Huh. I guess that makes sense."

"Mmhmm."

"You're blushing."

I laugh. "What? No, I'm not. I'd feel it if I was. If I blush, my whole face heats up."

"No, you idiot. In the photo."

"Oh. Yeah, I know."

"You were still married then."

"Okay, and?"

"Did you... Did you have feelings for me then?"

P.O.V: William

I can't help but laugh as Henry's face turns bright red. He's so adorable like this. His face has always been easy to read. He's got these little things he does with each emotion he can experience, and I know them all. If he's lying to you, you can tell. His left eye--your right, if you're face-to-face--will start to twitch like he's winking at you. If he's mad, he grinds his teeth and his upper lip will tremble. If he's trying not to laugh, he'll get this sheepish smile and bite his lip. It's so damn adorable.

"You did, didn't you?" I ask him as I shove my hands into my pockets. "For how long?"

"Since high school," he admits. His voice is so quiet, I can barely hear his response. "Remember when you confessed to me and I ran away?"

"Yeah. That wasn't fun."

"Jen was the only one who knew about it. So I went to find her 'cause I didn't know what to do." He laughs. "By the time I got back, I couldn't find you. I was kind of disappointed."

"Sorry about that," I say sincerely as I rest my hand on the back of my neck. "I thought you were afraid of me, and I ended up crying in the bathroom."

"Oh." He looks at the floor. "I'm sorry. I know it's long due, but still. I'm sorry."

I lift his chin in my hand and plant a kiss on his forehead. "Thanks. And I'm sorry, too."

He smirks, grabs my shoulders, and drags me close. He kisses me on the lips, then pulls away. "I'm glad you're mine," he tells me happily as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder.

"So am I."

~ ~ ~

The End