Henry; a brown haired cuban boy whose got me stuck in this spell I cannot fathom. For him, I write this. Henry is everywhere. He's in the bountiful air supply we breathe in, and quite possibly in everything we see. I want the taste his lips allow, 'cause anything that's worth having is worth fighting for. And I fight silently for him with each word that forms onto the screen as I type away. For him, I fight. *Credit to @conformity for the stunning cover*
12 parts