Page 39 of Resilience on Canvas

When Robert returned with the tweezers, Henry was sitting on the bed, bouncing his leg. It was surprisingly endearing to see him like that—nervous and bashful—though Robert had liked seeing the fiery side of Henry, too. Wordlessly, Robert sat beside him and held out his hand. Henry placed his on top of it with his palm toward the ceiling.

“It’ll probably hurt,” Robert said. “Because of the swellin’.”

“Are you sure we gotto—”

“Do you want a teeny tiny splinter to be the thing that cuts yer life short?”

“No?”

“Good.” Robert brought Henry’s hand closer to his face, readying the tweezers near the swollen injury.

He could feel Henry’s nervousness—the sweat on his palm and slight trembling of his hand—and, hell, part of him wanted to bring Henry’s hand to his lips. He wanted to plant little kisses on each of his fingers and knuckles—taking extra care near the splinter, of course—and tell him that he’d try his best not to make it hurt too bad. Instead, Robert rubbed Henry’s palm with his thumb, hoping that was enough of a comfort.

When he then touched the tweezers to Henry’s skin, Henry let out a whimper—the sweetest little sound Robert had ever heard in his life—and Robert was hit with a wave of fondness. He had to shut his eyes for a moment to remind himself not to let it pull him out to sea. Letting out a breath, Robert opened his eyes and refocused on the pesky piece of wood stuck in Henry’s finger. Henry whimpered once more as Robert pinched the son-of-a-bitch splinter and pulled it from the wound. Afterward, he looked up to see that Henry’s eyes were closed, his face pinched, and Robert’s breath caught. Another wave ofwantcrashed over him. And this time, Robert surrendered.

Slowly, Robert brought Henry’s hand to his lips and planted one hard kiss on his middle knuckle.

“It’s out,” Robert said. Henry’s eyes fluttered open, a sweet blush creeping across his cheeks, and Robert couldn’t fight back his smile. “Gosh, Hen, yer like a... like a little puppy sometimes.”

Henry’s eyes fell to the floor, and the redness on his cheeks deepened.

“What is it?” Robert said, heaviness settling in his stomach.

Maybe Henry wasn’t none too happy with that kiss. Had Robert misread things?

“Nothing,” Henry said, his voice low and sad. “Just... my friends called me a baby bunny recently.”

“Oh.” Robert furrowed his brow as some of the weight in his stomach lifted. Thank God Henry wasn’t reacting badly to the kiss, it seemed. “Would you rather Ihave called you that, then? Because, I mean, puppy, bunny...” He shrugged, still clutching Henry’s hand. “Don’t matter which one to me.”

“No,” Henry said with a shake of his head. “Truthfully. I would rather no one think of me as a helpless little animal.”

Ah, well, Robert could understand that.

“If it helps, you weren’t nothing like a baby bunnyora little puppy when we were fightin’ in the store,” he said. “Hell, you even beat me in our pretend scuffle. Did you forget that you managed to pin me to the wall?”

Henry let out a breath through his nose and smiled a little. “No.”

“There’s a wolf in you, Hen.” Robert rubbed Henry’s hand with his thumb. “I’ve seen it. Seems like you need some help bringing it out, is all.”

Henry mumbled a soft, “Maybe.”

“I won’t call you a puppy no more.”

After a moment, Henry’s smile broadened. He looked up to meet Robert’s eyes again, and the sweetness of the moment made Robert’s stomach tumble in the most wonderful way. God, how he wanted to kiss Henry. Only he wasn’t too sure if he should. Because no matter how perfect Henry was, the two of them starting something could still lead to trouble. If even one person found out or sensed what they were, that would be it for Robert. Probably for Henry, too. But Robert had his whole family to think of.

Henry nibbled on his bottom lip, and the sight had Robert reeling.

Son of a bitch, how was the man so Goddamn kissable?

Burying his urge to touch their lips together, Robert said, “Hen, we ought to finish the marmalade. Don’t want those carrots goin’ to waste.”

Henry nodded, still not breaking eye contact, and Robert’s chest pinched. Everything he had ever wanted, romance-wise, was right in front of him. And yet, he couldn’t have it. What a terrible form of torture this was.

When Robert went to stand, he remembered that he and Henry were still connected, Henry’s hand resting in his. It felt so natural to hold it. It felt as natural as breathing.

Or maybemorenatural than breathing lately, considering the state of things.

Standing, Robert waited for Henry to let go, but he never did.

---