HELPLINE

twenty-eight; henry

T W E N T Y - E I G H T

H E N R Y

i'm on a date and unsurprisingly, it's not going well.

he's a body builder slash teacher, of all things. we met through a dating website (pathetic, right?) and i saw bodybuilder and immediately thought of isaac. not because he's a bodybuiler or anything, but he had a story about one. which was a perfectly decent reason for me to be thinking about him.

yes. perfectly decent.

anyway, the bodybuilder - stan, i think his name was - had taken me to this pizza place (which, admittedly, was pretty good) and we'd made slightly stilted conversation about eastenders and fanfiction (he wrote dramione in his spare time. massive turn-off).

then he took me to his school.

that was when things started getting weirder. like, who takes people to the school they work at on dates? creepy.

and then - then - something ridiculous happened.

i saw isaac.

❄

"isaac?"

"henry?"

"stan?" stan said weakly, bless him. i was almost starting to feel sorry for him. but then again... isaac.

once i'd got over my initial shock, i started to notice my surroundings. we were in a big, spacious room with white walls covered in artwork (most of it was actually pretty good) and several desks surrounded by stools. all that paled in comparison, though, to the life-sized painting behind isaac.

"isaac," i said, sounding extremely tired and slightly flattered, "are you painting a life-size picture of me?"

he just said miserably, "my hand hurts."

"that's what he said," stan snickered, forgetting his hurt for a second.

we stood in awkward silence for a few minutes; partly because my ex-boyfriend was painting a life-size picture of me, and partly because stan had just said that's what he said. frankly, i couldn't decide which was worse.

"um," isaac said, "hi?"

"we have a lot to talk about," i told him frankly, bounding over to him and grabbing his arm. "get in, loser. we're going for a coffee."

"there's no car -"

"what about me?" stan asked.

(i never answered him.)

❄

"i can't believe you," i mumbled, after we'd ordered our coffee and gone to sit down. "painting a portrait of me. you're still so fucking cute."

"and kind of creepy," isaac admitted, tilting his head to one side.

i sighed and leant back in my chair, ignoring the too-strong and too-hot coffee in front of me. i never liked the stuff, anyway. "isaac, i... i'm still kind of pissed off."

he nodded eagerly, taking a sip of his coffee and wincing slightly. "i know," he said, looking into my eyes, which he didn't normally do - he had a thing about eye contact. "and i'm sorry, hen. really."

i nodded awkwardly.

"there are things i should have done," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "things i would have done. if i was your man."

something snapped between us. isaac grinned and looked straight into my eyes again. "did you hear that, hen?"

"no," i said hastily. "no. absolutely not."

"same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now," he warbled. "our song on the radio but it don't sound the same..."

"please stop," i whispered, burying my head in my hands. "please."

"when our friends talk about you all it does is just tear me doooooown - 'cause my heart breaks a little when i hear your name..."

"no," i muttered in horror. "this is not happening. this is not happening."

"it all just sounds like OOOOOOOOOOOOOH,

MM, TOO YOUNG TOO DUMB TO REALISE...

THAT I SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT YOU FLOWERS

AND HELD YOUR HAND"

all around us, people had started to stare. one poor barista had even dropped a tray of americanos on her way to the table next do us. several parents were clutching their crying children. and i was slowly - painfully - dying from embarrassment.

"now my baby's dancing," isaac crooned softly, "but he's dancing with another man."

"i hope that wasn't supposed to be deep," i said, inspecting my nails. "but you're right. i always did love a bit of bruno."

"everyone loves a bit of bruno," isaac said nervously. "henry."

"isaac."

"henry."

"isaac."

"hen -"

"for fuck's sake!" a passing barista snapped. "just spit it out, would you?"

i smiled gratefully at her and isaac cleared his throat. "henry waters," he said, "would you maybe like to be my boyfriend again?"

❄

a.n HERE IT IS FOLKS

i wrote this like two months ago and basically banged (heh) another paragraph and some bruno mars (bc who doesn't like those amirite) on but i hope it's okay!! anyway it would be loVELY if you could chuck me a vote and a comment and i'll see you all soon!

lucy

xox

p.s im back