Henry stepped out into the summery warm air. The sunshine glinted of his golden curls, rays of light refracting off his glasses. 

While he would have loved to stop and smell the numerous roses planted all about him, he was out there for a purpose, a reason. 

That reason sniffled on the wooden bench he had formed himself, the living branches shading him in soft shadow. 

“Oh, Johan,” he sighed, coming up to him, sitting beside him on the twisting wood. Johan wiped his tears. “Is it one of those days?”

“M… mhm,” he barely managed to hum, swallowing repeatedly to keep from crying out. Henry wrapped him into a one armed hug, taking his hand with the other. Johan buried his face in the crook of Henry’s neck, trembling, trying to hold back his tears. “‘M… m….”

A few hiccuping sobs escaped Joey, Henry rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Henry asked him quietly while kissing the top of his head, a few blue strands tickling his nose. 

“Mm-mm,” Johan replied, yet his trembling grew less. Henry rubbed his opisthenar with his thumb, feeling the slight plastic like texture of the scar tissue etched all throughout Joey’s hand, the lines of almost silver contrasting with the earthy dark tones of his flesh. “M-Miss her.”

With those two words, Henry’s heart broke all over again for his love.

“Hey,” he whispered, cupping Johan’s face, more gentle than the breeze tousling their hair, melding gold and navy, silver and strawberry. “I love you.”