[Ah…the rainbow-colored ice cream. Of course Henry would have gravitated toward that choice. Utterly unaware of the other man’s internal distress, Richard eyes the gallon of dessert from across the glass in wary skepticism. The bold lettering proclaims the flavor as “Sherbert”—a word that vaguely rings a bell from the time he spent pretending to mingle at court while his older brother was king. He would dismiss the recollection now as unimportant if it were not now connected to Henry. Focused as he is, Richard jumps at the touch alighting on his back, head whipping to the side to affix his companion with a startled look. Easily (too easily), he allows Henry to redirect him, away from the counter and the other patrons. A trickle of strawberry ice cream has started to melt from its peak atop the cone; distracted, Richard licks a brief path away from dripping on his wrist.
And then Henry reaches out toward him. Alarm roots Richard to the spot, a fight-or-fight response that always seems to end in freeze where the other man is concerned. The words that Henry murmurs are nonsensical in that moment; he could be speaking in tongues for all that Richard is aware of. Warmth is blooming, sweet and delightful, on the pale skin where Henry has touched his cheek—and it’s obscene, the way Henry makes him feel, even after all that has come between them, even after all that Richard has done to prove himself unworthy of this.]
“Too much?” What—? [Those lovely hands move once more. This time, however, their intent spooks Richard badly once he realizes what Henry plans. Jerking away with wild, fearful eyes, he brandishes the ice cream cone between them as if it were a sword.] Wh-what are you doing!?
[Unbeknownst to him, the ice cream’s strange magic flares; Richard finds himself parting lips to speak once more.]
I have never even allowed a valet to dress or undress me. [A horrifying truth buried in a secret he must keep from Henry. Why did he say such a thing!? In his panic, his next words are sharper than he means for them to be.] I hardly require your help!
omg don't apologize, your Henry is fantastic...... this thread is a blessing
And then Henry reaches out toward him. Alarm roots Richard to the spot, a fight-or-fight response that always seems to end in freeze where the other man is concerned. The words that Henry murmurs are nonsensical in that moment; he could be speaking in tongues for all that Richard is aware of. Warmth is blooming, sweet and delightful, on the pale skin where Henry has touched his cheek—and it’s obscene, the way Henry makes him feel, even after all that has come between them, even after all that Richard has done to prove himself unworthy of this.]
“Too much?” What—? [Those lovely hands move once more. This time, however, their intent spooks Richard badly once he realizes what Henry plans. Jerking away with wild, fearful eyes, he brandishes the ice cream cone between them as if it were a sword.] Wh-what are you doing!?
[Unbeknownst to him, the ice cream’s strange magic flares; Richard finds himself parting lips to speak once more.]
I have never even allowed a valet to dress or undress me. [A horrifying truth buried in a secret he must keep from Henry. Why did he say such a thing!? In his panic, his next words are sharper than he means for them to be.] I hardly require your help!