Henry walks out onto the porch after a small bout of cleaning, i.e. throwing things that are in many piles into one big pile. He slides the glass door shut quietly, seemingly worried about Claire waking up. He doesn't really feel the need to say anything, he just leans on the railing next to Liz and looks out at the lights in the town.
"Oh." Her head drops to her chest and her voice goes little-girl-soft again. "I guess then...it bothers me. I don't want you to want to kiss anyone else. So I guess I feel like I don't matter to you enough or something if you don't mind. I really wasn't going to do it anymore because I didn't want you to get hurt. And I don't want anyone else as much as I want you."
A fall of tangled green hair obscures her face as her chin tips down, all the fight gone out of her. "I guess it doesn't matter to you, though. It's pretty hypcritical that it matters to me, anyway."
He tips her chin back up and looks in her eyes, a worried look on his face. "Hey...Liz. It's not that it doesn't matter to me. I don't...I-" He huffs a bit in frustration. Despite how much he wants them to, the words aren't coming any easier. "I didn't think you would want to do that with Claire. But from everything you're telling me, it's not because she loves you or you love her. It's like hormones or something. You're friends...and you still love me. So if you tell me that I still mean everything to you- and you have been- then...I'll trust that."
She shakes her head, eyes welling in frustration or maybe disappointment. Either way she's crying again and she hates that. "I don't even want to anymore. That's what I was trying to tell you. Even if I feel like I do, I don't--my hormones are a lot dumber than my brain. And you're just...you're like, trading me away. Like I'm a thing."
Usually he'd be over to her in a minute, pleading with her to stop crying. Instead, he crosses his arms and gives her a pointed look, somewhat angry again. He's trying to see where this is coming from. "What the fuck?! How is me trying to make sure you're happy and saying that you can do what you want...HOW is that treating you like a thing?! I was trying to NOT treat you like that. I mean, even if you are mine, that doesn't make you a possession..."
He shakes his head, looks down at the floor, then back up to her again. "That's why I've been trying to talk to you about this, to see what you're thinking. And then you went and got all ticked at me for talking instead of yelling at you."
She speaks very slowly, trying to make her words coherent through a copious amount of snot and tears. "I know you're trying to make me happy. But it wouldn't. Being with Claire...it would make me feel good for about 20 seconds. And then all I'd be able to think about is you."
Her hands flash white in the darkness of the balcony as she gestures vaguely, helplessly. "I don't always know what I want. And even if I did...I need help sometimes."
Now he does walk over to her, putting his arms around her and avoiding the cigarette as best he can. He attempts to lay her head down on his shoulder and murmurs softly. "...okay. I get it now. There's times when I don't know what I want, either...it's okay. We'll figure this stuff out together, all right?"
"I just want you, OK?" she sniffles, burying her head in the warm little hollow between his neck and shoulder. She rags on him about not wearing a coat all the time, but the amount of body heat he puts off is enough for any three people. The clean, sharp way he normally smells is blunted by frustration and the restless sleep he'd been drifting and out of while hiding in his room, but it's still there.
"I've thought about Claire, OK? But you don't know how you'll feel after. And this is just...I don't want to mess this up."
She rests her head on his shoulder and stares over the balcony with unseeing eyes. "I thought maybe that was it. Just, like...maybe I could just mess this up and I wouldn't worry about losing it anymore."
"Oh, Liz..." He squeezes her tight and closes his eyes, leaning his cheek down on her head. "Liz, if you're not with me, I'm alone. And I don't wanna be alone. It might be...easier, some ways, but it'd be like...like being dead."
His hands curl into her hair. "So it'd take a lot to...to mess it up. And you don't need to be trying to, okay?" He smiles a little at the top of her head and it leaks into his voice. "I think we're gonna stay together."
"Well, not that I was trying to. I was just trying to figure out what it was in me that would make me even think about Claire. I have you and you should be enough, right? So it isn't like...OK. If it was another guy, then like..maybe you could think there was something you weren't giving me--or maybe I'd just be a greedy bitch, I don't know." She smiles a little into the soft material of his t-shirt.
"But Claire's a girl. I think it's just...different. It just feels different. And the novelty was nice. That's why I think it'll go away. I like Claire a lot. And I think she's pretty and sometimes I wouldn't mind being her--she's so tough, she doesn't need anyone--but I don't...I just don't think women do it for me. I think...I think half of what I'm feeling is just the anticipation of doing it again. And actually doing it wouldn't be...what I want."
Henry nods into her head. "Yeah...I think I get it now. Like...if Stu wasn't so scared and Muds wasn't...uh, Muds, I might've been curious. I dunno." He continues playing with her hair, letting it pile like seaweed in his hands, then letting it cascade down. "I get where it comes from now, though...I mean, remember when we first started, and we disappeared for like a week? There was a lot more to it, yeah, but part of it was how new everything was." He smiles. That was a good week.
"Yeah, like that," she nods again, little, quick motions. It's such a relief to not be yelling...
After a minute of calm silence she looks up at him. "I'm not gonna do it though, OK? I just--it's weird to me that it's all right with you. But in any case I don't think it's all right with me."
He nods, confirming that. "Okay. I dunno if it'd always be all right with me...but in this case, yeah, I probably could've...been all right with it."
Despite that, he's glad he didn't have to be. The relief on his face is obvious. Things are falling back to the familiar, as they probably should for a couple so young.
He watches the city lights flicker off one by one as the night around them starts to fade. He hadn't realized they'd been up so late. "We...we should probably try to get some sleep, huh? Claire's in there, but I can get blankets...we can take the floor."
"We could try your room, maybe." She's not entirely sure about this, but now seems like a good time as any. "If you prop the door open with something really heavy, maybe...fuck." She scrunches her face into a displeased frown, chilled by the shiver that races through her. "No, I--I--I can't. The floor, then."
He smooths her hair down and kisses her forehead, gently replying with "Okay."
They'll keep working on it, and Liz will be all right with things eventually. He's sure of it. For now, though, the floor will be fine. He gives her short squeeze, glancing out at the city. The lights keep turning off, but it keeps getting brighter. The sun's on it's way. He smiles at her a little, then moves to the sliding glass door, ready to rest.
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A fall of tangled green hair obscures her face as her chin tips down, all the fight gone out of her. "I guess it doesn't matter to you, though. It's pretty hypcritical that it matters to me, anyway."
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He shakes his head, looks down at the floor, then back up to her again. "That's why I've been trying to talk to you about this, to see what you're thinking. And then you went and got all ticked at me for talking instead of yelling at you."
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Her hands flash white in the darkness of the balcony as she gestures vaguely, helplessly. "I don't always know what I want. And even if I did...I need help sometimes."
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"I've thought about Claire, OK? But you don't know how you'll feel after. And this is just...I don't want to mess this up."
She rests her head on his shoulder and stares over the balcony with unseeing eyes. "I thought maybe that was it. Just, like...maybe I could just mess this up and I wouldn't worry about losing it anymore."
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His hands curl into her hair. "So it'd take a lot to...to mess it up. And you don't need to be trying to, okay?" He smiles a little at the top of her head and it leaks into his voice. "I think we're gonna stay together."
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"But Claire's a girl. I think it's just...different. It just feels different. And the novelty was nice. That's why I think it'll go away. I like Claire a lot. And I think she's pretty and sometimes I wouldn't mind being her--she's so tough, she doesn't need anyone--but I don't...I just don't think women do it for me. I think...I think half of what I'm feeling is just the anticipation of doing it again. And actually doing it wouldn't be...what I want."
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After a minute of calm silence she looks up at him. "I'm not gonna do it though, OK? I just--it's weird to me that it's all right with you. But in any case I don't think it's all right with me."
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Despite that, he's glad he didn't have to be. The relief on his face is obvious. Things are falling back to the familiar, as they probably should for a couple so young.
He watches the city lights flicker off one by one as the night around them starts to fade. He hadn't realized they'd been up so late. "We...we should probably try to get some sleep, huh? Claire's in there, but I can get blankets...we can take the floor."
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They'll keep working on it, and Liz will be all right with things eventually. He's sure of it. For now, though, the floor will be fine. He gives her short squeeze, glancing out at the city. The lights keep turning off, but it keeps getting brighter. The sun's on it's way. He smiles at her a little, then moves to the sliding glass door, ready to rest.
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So the couch is free!
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