When Henry doesn't sit, Adam doesn't even try to hide how much it cuts into him.
His eyes stay on Henry with a heaviness that makes the air between them almost impossible to breathe, and in that stillness Henry can see the hurt forming even before Adam speaks.
"Are you seriously here to ask me to leave you alone?" Adam's voice carries the weight of something that has been waiting for years to break free.
It is low, but not steady, a sound that trembles beneath its own effort to remain controlled.
A bitter chuckle slips past his lips anyway, dry and empty, and his gaze does not waver.
For a heartbeat Henry cannot speak. His throat locks, words sticking like stones, but he forces them out. "Leaving and cutting you off with nothing but a text message promising to find each other when we were grown enough to stand on our own was not considerate of me to do. I..."
"I don't want your apology, Henry." Adam's interruption is immediate.
