#henryxpatrick

Most people in this universe find their soulmates quickly for the sake of safety. The only time you ever stop hurting, the only time only one person is able to hurt you is when you finally accept your soulmate. Henry wasn't one of those fortunate people, one of those privileged people. As kids people accepted their soulmates easy, even in kindergarten parents would set p a child soulmates to avoid the obvious pain and suffering to come if they weren't. Henry got the best example of this, from people all around him, and even his own family. He was never safe, never found his soulmate, never met them, and he believed he never will. His dad even met his soulmate at a young age, and here Henry is, dealing with his old man and surviving through school.

Middle school was the worst, the bullying was non-stop, and it got to the point that when he found someone like him, he enjoyed watching his hands hurt them, he thrived on the feeling of making others feel the way he did all his life, constantly hurting, afraid of touch, afraid of people. The days where one of his victims becomes untouchable, where his punches bounce off and his hand cracks under the sheer force of his hit, he feels shame, not for hurting these people but because he now is hurting himself, again, always hurting. Henry always hurt, and as a kid in pre-school kids would call him Hurting Henry, they liked the thought of being able to hurt something when from a young age they couldn't hurt themselves, they couldn't hurt their soulmate, they couldn't hurt someone else that found a soulmate, and here comes Hurting Henry! The one who hurts! Its only human nature to want to take out the weak and break what can be broken. A good example of this, was Patrick Hockstetter, though he was like the other kids, he was like Henry as well.

Patrick Hockstetter through pre to high was a stone-cold killer, one who would kidnap dogs at night and no one could prove he did it the next day. Patrick was one who hurt, worse than Henry. Henry liked to beat people up, Patrick liked to watch people bleed. Henry never had an eye out for this kid but coming into middle school, Patrick definitely had an eye out for him. Henry met him in grade 7, they hit it off pretty well, a little too well for the comfort of teachers and other students. Patrick got Henry into skipping classes, smoking, drinking, and other ways to take of the edge. Now you may think, that this is when the hurting can stop. You are wrong, one must accept their soulmate in order to feel no pain.

High school starts, Henry and Patrick were two peas in a pod, always stuck together, always fought together, always hurt together. They caused pain and fear, without touching anyone, through high school they ruled Derry, two kids unable to cure their pain, so they take it out on anyone and anything they could get their hands on. They were destruction.

Patrick had asked out Henry, he wanted to go to prom, it was a stupid small thing and Henry being conditioned the way he was, despite his urge to say yes, he called Patrick a “dirty fag.” and cut him off. Obviously, Patrick being who he is doesn't feel pain, and doesn't let up on something he wants, but this was the first time he had felt complete rejection, and it was the most painful he had ever felt. He hated it, pain, the feeling of his heart dropping to his feet as if a monster came into his room at night, the monster called realization, and ripped his chest apart. He knew what and who Henry was to him and he was tired of Henry hurting, he wanted Henry to come home one day to school and tell him how his father's belt just bounced off, or the bottles glass shards didn't even hit him, or the punches were like pillows hitting his skin. That's all he really wanted, as disgusting as he found that, he wanted Henry to be happy, to have a soulmate, to be free of his worldly pain. So he would be persistent from that day until prom.

Henry came up to Patrick, red-faced, tired, his voice was weak and his knuckles were red and bleeding. Patrick spared him a glance, a short and curt one. Henry noticed this but didn't question it, he just stood by the taller boys side all day, until the bell rang. Patrick stood at the back door of the school, as Henry kept walking, he still didn't budge from his place. Henry noticed this of course and turned in question. Patrick stared at him expectantly, though neither said a word for what seemed like hours before Patrick broke the ice.

“So do I have to ask again or are you going to be that guy and just forget anything is going on?”

Henry stood, frozen, then looked to the ground, then back at Patrick. He turned fully, then went up to Patrick and took a deep breath.

“I'll go to prom with you.”

“It's a little late for that, prom is tonight and we both know neither of us has anything pertaining to formal wear.”

“That's what you are worried about right now?”

“Of course! Whats prom without a tux?”

Henry snorted, then cracked a smile, the first one all day. Patrick stared at him, blank, then let out a huff out his nose.

“Just go home okay? You can come over tomorrow night, we can call the boys over and have our own prom or some shit like that.”

As said, Henry went home, and the first time in years, the first time since he was born he felt lighter, more content, calm, and safe, he felt no pain. Even the broken ribs, even the cuts on his neck, the dry tears on his face from that morning seemed gone, done, lost and forgotten. Patrick felt the same, his mood lifted and his anger subsided greatly, his feelings of lust and torture were softer, not gone, but softer. He smiled to himself through the night finally at peace, both of them were now at peace and when Henry's father first tried to make a move, he just buckled and fell to the floor, knocking himself out in his drunken state.