âthatâs -â he pauses, watching as henriâs posture changes. he knows, somewhere along the way, that the answer isnât what henri wanted to hear. heâs not quite sure where it went wrong, it was the best luca could do, under the circumstances. âyou - iâm sorry, that i canât do more. iâm - iâm backed into a corner. i know itâs - i know how it feels, to have things like this out of your hands,â he looks down at his own hands for a few seconds, âit will be okay - iâll do everything i can, i promise.â he nods along, knowing that meeting will probably go poorly - lucaâs not a man built for negotiating, and he wouldnât dare ask laraâs help. if anything, heâd hope that he could keep the entire thing under wraps, and not alert his family of it. that was wishful thinking, though - he thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission, in this instance. at the question he stops, staring at henri for longer than he needs to and letting the words actually process. âyou didnât - that wonât happen. you wonât -â he realizes suddenly that he canât promise that. if they decide to do something about it, henri will be towards the top of the list. the idea makes him nauseous, so he tries to push it down as far as he can. âyou donât even need to ask,â luca says, trying to steady his voice. heâs nervous, now, about it. questions like that made things even more real, they didnât allow luca to detach himself from it, like he preferred, âyouâre always welcome in my home, but i - i would hope it doesnât come to that.â he hoped he could take henri home to meet his family when they decided the timing was right, not when an international court did.
the words made him feel even worse. he turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. god, why did he have to be so pathetic? but then, it wasnât all his fault; luca just kept finding all the right buttons to press. and that last comment, which henri knew was an innocent attempt at saying i understand, only felt like luca rubbing salt into the wound. it felt like he was throwing the invasion back in henriâs face, and he wasnât, henri knew he wasnât, but that was how it felt and henri wasnât feeling strong enough in that moment to rationalize his way out of that feeling. âokay,â he said, the word a little raspy. âthank you, i â iâll make sure everythingâs in order, just in case.â he sat there and stared at the floor for a long moment, willing himself not to cry. it was a battle he could feel himself losing, because now all he could picture was that heâd never be allowed home again. his apartment flashed through his mind; the view of the eiffel tower at sunset, the custom steinway model o, the keepsakes and trinkets that he kept in the closet because he was too embarrassed to display them in the open. he took a shaky, shuddering breath and stood up, moved to the nightstand, rooted around for a box of cigarettes. âiâm going out on the balcony. iâll be in... sometime. donât wait up for me, please.â and he moved toward the sliding door, knowing that luca would follow but wishing he wouldnât. he was so tired of feeling, and it was always easier not to when luca wasnât with him.