𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑, 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲.

( 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 ) 彡❁ཻུ۪۪༉‧˚₊· ✩
˖°✩·₊̣̇ ｡ﾟ𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑 ┊𝚓𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚢.

𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐮𝐬, 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫.

          Cyrus had seemed to notice this, if not from his clammy hands slipping at his emptied glass, but his paling face. He reached for Henry's arm, not expecting the man to grab his own forearm with surprising strength, fear bleed onto his face through the shadow of embarrassment. He tried to play it off, "Cyrus! I'm sorry, old man, you seemed to have startled me." Cyrus asked if he wanted to step inside for a moment, Henry eagerly followed him through the winding mansion to a spare office, grateful for the silence in which they moved in.