Henri had to adjust his pants one last time. Perhaps kissing Félix right before they left hadn't been the best idea. He needed to himself back under control. He didn't regret it but perhaps walking would be a little easier had he not. Félix was doing things to him he didn't expect. He hadn't felt this way for anyone. Everyone else had just been there and available. It didn't matter with them. But this mattered. This felt like the start of something real. Something Henri would like to explore given the opportunity.
As they passed someone in the hall, Henri withdrew himself more, hunching and almost curling in on himself. He let his hair fall in front of his face. It didn't matter. They still knew who he was. He could hear them whispering already. It probably wouldn't take long until the entire school was trying to get a look at him. He wanted to turn around and run back to his room. The only thing that kept him going forward was the fact Félix was still walking forward.
He pulled further into the wall, his shoulder almost brushing it as they walked. His eyes were trained on the ground, on his shoes. And on Félix's shoes. He didn't want the boy to stop walking and leave him there looking like a fool. he didn't need to add that on top of everything else that was going on.
All it took was one glance down to make Félix a flustered mess. His whole face was stained pink. In an attempt to make himself somewhat normal, he kept his eyes to the ground. His walking was more gradual than usual, but he thought the pacing would be good for Henri. He doesn't want to rush him then instantly be around a lot of people. Not that there's hundreds of students, but sometimes even three other people can be a lot. As someone passed by, he decided to lift his chin up, but he never really got a chance to see who it was.
Fighting the urge to not look back at the person, he continued his walk. He ignored the whispers, knowing that it's going to happen a lot for the next week or so. Headmaster Sauveterre held a special assembly yesterday explaining how the crown prince would be attending the academy and everyone should treat him like a normal peer. No matter what, Félix knew that people would still react. He did that's for sure and he probably will for different reasons.
The moment he stepped outside he took a deep breath. Feeling the crisp autumn air against his face was so relieving. In the distance, he saw his first-aid kit still sitting on the bench. Leaves flew around as the wind gently blew. Once Henri was out with him, he let the door close, then he continued on. He tried coming up with something to say, but nothing came to mind. Looking over at Henri, he noticed that his hair was in front of his eyes. Félix reached over to brush them to the side. He smiled then whispered, "Handsome, my Prince Charming." He liked the way Henri's eyes gleamed in the sunlight. Stuffing his hand in his pocket, he walked over to pick his kit then strolled along the path.
Henri's shoulders eased just slightly as they stepped outside. It didn't feel as crowded as the walls were caving in. There was a cool breeze of fresh air that filled his nose. He relaxed, just slightly. There was no one else in the courtyard thankfully but that didn't mean that someone might not walk out and see him. That was always a possibility. Being the crowned prince meant all eyes were on him always. He couldn't go anywhere without someone watching him.
Henri jumped as fingers touched his head. It had been the last thing he had been expecting. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed Félix raise his hand. He lifted his head, almost leaning into Félix's touch that was over much too soon. He swallowed noticeably at his words. This is where he felt most vulnerable, being out in public and around others. So much reminded him of Phillippe. He could almost see his brother standing tall and waving to the crowd. He could see him speaking to the public about his love and determination for him. Henri saw him in the crowd with a bullet hole in his head. Henri shuddered at the thought, the sight.
Henri followed Félix as he walked along the path. Had he been another person, he would have offered to take the kit from him, give Félix a smile and a kiss. But he wasn't someone else. He was a prince, the prince. He couldn't do it. He couldn't be the man he wanted to be. So much had happened and so much had changed in such a small amount of time. As the prince, certain things were excepted of him. This was one of them. So his hands remained in his pockets.
The kit lightly swung in his hand. Meanwhile he used the other to comb through his hair. It itched to be holding Henri's. It just felt empty while he let it stay at his side. Félix did not like the feeling, but he knew that there was nothing he can do about it. Not now at the least. Sometimes glancing over at Henri helped, sometimes it didn't.
In the distance he could see people walking about or relaxing about. Archambault students are very serious about getting times to have break and such. They have an hour and a half to have lunch. On top of that, they can go back to their dorms or be outside, just as long as they get back to class. Félix still isn't used to the culture here. His teammates all sit together then talk about sports, girls, and parties.
Félix thought about the teammates for a second. Weirdos. Imcredibly posh rich weirdos. He shook his head in thought then looked beside him. When he realized that Henri was following, he took a step back so they could walk together. His pacing gradually slowed down. "So…." He began softly, "What things are you into? Do you have any favorite movies or anything?" Félix grinned as he gazed at Henri. Sure there's lots of stuff on the internet about the crown prince, but he wants to hear it from him. Besides, talking might slow them down and it will be a bit longer till they reach the dining hall.
Henri shrugged his shoulders at the question, keeping his head down. His curly locks fell in front of his face once more as his head bowed. He didn't know what he was into. Not anymore. Not after Phillipe. There had been many things he had enjoyed, including being his brother's shadow. He liked doing what his brother did. He enjoyed riding horses with his brother. He enjoyed watching movies with his brother. he enjoyed cooking with his brother. it was all about his brother. And now Phillipe was dead and all Henri had done since then was drink and take questionable substances and get into fights. That was what had gotten him here in the first place, in this school, to hopefully straighten him out.
So instead of answering Félix's question, he remained silent. There wasn't an answer he could give him. There was nothing now that he was into. His brother was dead and his lost of interest in anything had died with him. He should just abdicate the throne and let one of his sisters rule in his stead. They would be better at this. They were older, more mature, more knowledgeable. They hadn't fallen apart at the death of their brother. They had risen up and gotten stronger. Henri had only gotten weaker.
But he needed to say something. He needed to say something so that Félix didn't pester him. He didn't want to talk about his interests because everything reminded him of Phillipe. So instead he said, "Just you." While it wasn't a lie, he hoped the answer itself would fluster Félix enough to distract him from the conversation at hand or steer it in another direction.
Félix stared at Henri, anticipating a response. The moment he watched the prince shrug, he too looked down at the ground. He wondered about Henri. He wondered what the prince liked or if he had any hobbies or even if he had a favorite midnight snack. Although he doesn't need to know everything or even anything, Félix just wanted to hear Henri's voice.
And he did. All it took was two words to make him swoon. Just you. A shiver went down his spine. He never expected anyone to give him such a response. His walking slowed down before coming to a swift hault. Félix could feel his face warming up against the cooler air. While softly laughing, he rubbed the back of his neck. He did this in order to buy time for himself since he didn't know what to say. Nothing really prepared him for this.
He continued walking. Somehow the moment he put one foot forward, he finally thought of something to say. "Come on…there's definitely more than just the boy you met and made out with." Félix swung the kit as he shook his head. Hearing some of the packing bump against the case was a small detail that he enjoyed. He liked it as much as he liked crushing leaves while walking and walking with Henri.
Henri felt a sigh of relief coming as Félix became flustered. It had worked. He was in the clear. He didn't need to speak any longer. His relief didn't last long. Because he asked him the question again. His body tensed and his shoulders tensed. He didn't want to answer that. But he didn't see Félix backing off until Henri gave him something. So he said something he had already mentioned.
"I like soccer." And that was all he said. He had been an avid fan before Phillipe's death. Now he could barely bother himself to put on the game. He would watch if he was in the room or if he flicked on the TV and it was the first thing that came on. But he didn't go out of his way to watch it. He didn't go to games and cheer for his team. He didn't try to bribe the referee (It was one time okay!).
Henri looked down at his shoes, watched as he stepped on the fallen leaves. A soft, sad noise, escaped his lips before he could contain it. He was sad and this conversation was only making him sadder. Then he felt guilty for feeling sad. He shouldn't make everything about his brother. Everything shouldn't make him sad and remind him of his dead brother. And yet it did and he felt so guilty for feeling that way.
Félix still moved at a gradual pace. He started to become less and less flustered as time went on. The edges of his ears were still pink. Every time he looked over at Henri, he softly sighed. Eventually his arm started to get tired from the constant swinging so he let it rest against his side. The kit occasionally bumped against the side of his leg.
Smiling at Henri's words, he nodded. "Nice, me too…I take it that it's your favorite sport then?" Probably is obvious, but he doesn't want to assume. Almost everyone's favorite sport is football. Without it, Félix wasn't sure what else he'd want to do. It's something he has done since he was four. He's played in little leagues and school teams. Then when he came to Archambault, he began to play for them. It's what helped his relationship with Gaspard since him and his brother rarely spoke till he was thirteen.
A sudden feeling overcame him. It's one of those where it just hits you out of nowhere and you can feel it in the air. Félix felt it right away; it prompted him to take a long look at Henri. His heart sunk at seeing the sunken expression. The idea to continue the conversation was gone. Instead, he immediately took ahold of Henri's hand as a way to give comfort, although he wondered if he should say something.
