Abroad

Six

When he finally pulled away from George, Henry smiled at him and brought their foreheads together for a moment before explaining that he needed to go check in with his friends. George nodded and put his number in Henry's phone in case they got separated. Still smiling, Henry went off to find Alex and Pez to see if they were having fun and to check in with them. He found Pez easily enough thanks the the bright rainbow across his chest, but he couldn't find Alex anywhere. 

"Henry, darling! I saw you making out with that tasty Harry Potter snack over there. How was he?"

Henry blushed and looked down at his foot. "Great. Good. I––where's Alex?"

Pez's grin fell. "He, uh, left. A few minutes ago."

His heart sank at the words and the implications. Maybe something here made Alex sad and he felt himself close up into himself as he did sometimes, or maybe he was drunk and now wandering the streets of London by his lonesome

Henry frowned at him and folded his arms across his chest. "Oh? Did he say why?"

Pez shrugged but Henry could tell that he knew something more about it. He wanted to shake Pez by the shoulders and demand that he tell him everything he knew about why Alex had left, but he didn't. The whole point of talking to and kissing George was to get Alex out of his head. Even though they were friends, it wasn't Henry's job to go after Alex if he wanted to leave. Alex wasn't his boyfriend, no matter how much Henry wished he was, and he had to make peace with that. Plus, George was very attractive, nice, and a good kisser so it wasn't like Henry didn't have anywhere else for his mind to wander. Was it so wrong for him to sort of use George like this? As a distraction? A deterrent? Alex didn't even know that Henry was gay, though it wasn't like he tried to hide it, so what did it matter? Alex was straight and certainly not interested in him and Henry was allowed to kiss boys for the thrill of it.

Right. 

So why did he have this indescribable ache in his chest? Why did his heart clench when Alex in his stupid Han Solo costume popped into his head? How many kisses, how many other men, would it take for Henry to get over Alex? Alex who was never his to begin with? He'd seen him chatting with that busty Sherlock earlier. Seen the way she rested her hand on his blaster. That had been enough for him to decide, once and for all, that he needed to start the long and tedious process of getting Alex out of his fucking head and heart. And George was nice enough. Extremely attractive, too. But he wasn't Alex. And Henry wanted more than anything to stop wishing that George was someone else. It wouldn't do him any good to hold onto this fantasy.

He texted George when he got home to ask if he'd like to get dinner on Monday. George replied almost instantly and said that he would love to. They decided to meet at a small, casual place near campus at seven. Then Henry spent the rest of his weekend doing homework and trying to see if Alex wanted to hang out or talk about what happened at the party, but Alex never replied with anything meaningful. Well, that was fine. They would see each other on Monday in literature and go for a tea (or a coffee, in Alex's case) afterwards.

When Henry sat down in literature on Monday morning, he put his bag up on the desk next to him to reserve it for Alex. But Alex didn't sit next to him. He showed up a two minutes late looking haggard and miserable and sat in the back row without so much of a glance Henry's way. Whatever had gotten to him at the party must have still been hurting him. Maybe Nora had done something or maybe he got in a fight with one of his friends from home. Henry tried not to worry about it, though, knowing that Alex would tell him about it over a hot drink and a pastry after class. 

Henry made his way over to Alex as soon as the professor dismissed them. He gripped the strap of his messenger bag and watched as Alex haphazardly threw his notebook and pencil case into his backpack.