When they reach the bathroom and Henry sees the shower, something shifts in his eyes.
As if a single jolt of awareness slices through the haze, he forces himself upright and pushes away from Riley.
His balance falters; he staggers against the tiled wall, catching himself with one trembling hand. The cold tiles scrape against his bare skin, grounding him just enough to stay upright.
Riley moves forward on instinct, reaching to steady him, but Henry catches Riley's wrist with surprising strength.
His grip is rough, his palm damp and hot. Without a word he guides Riley back, muscles shaking with the effort, and uses the sudden burst of will to force Riley out of the bathroom.
Riley resists for a heartbeat, eyes flashing with worry, but Henry shoves harder, the last of his control poured into the motion. The door swings shut, the lock clicks into place.
