When I return to my room, he’s standing there in the corner, admiring my unicorn collection. A small half smile drags at the corner of my lips and I quietly walk in and set the glass of water on the dresser. He hears me and turns around, his eyes holding just the slightest hint of alarm, but as soon as they hit on mine he relaxes.

I inhale quietly, my breath taken away. His face is beautiful, innocent, and his soft brown eyes melt my heart. That shy, cute smile flashes across his face and he says, “Oh, I didn’t notice you were back. I’ve just been admiring your...statues? Is that the word?” His smile broadens, teasing me.

My eyes do a small eye roll, not coming quite full circle, and my lips bunch up as a half embarrassed, half modest grin comes across me. “I’ve had them since I was seven. I can’t bring myself to toss them.”

I walk over to the display case and stand next to him, lightly touch my fingertips to the glass and holding them there. My hand feels so heavy. “I haven’t actually used one of these since...” He knows what I’m going to say and doesn’t press. My father died when I was eight, and I’ve missed him every day since then. Sometimes I wish...I wish I could just come home one more time, jump into his arms, and feel him scoop me up in his strong arms and spin me around.

I can feel Henry’s hand press upon mine, and I look at it. The fingers are the same shade of color, but they’re a bit longer. Thin but not twiggy, they are the perfect stability and size.

My eyes go up to his and I start to get lost in his freckled face and serious expression. His brown eyes silently ask me if I’m OK, and my green ones answer, “Now I am.”

His hand that’s not pressed against mine touches my chin ever so lightly, and I let him tilt it up until I’m staring at his delicate features. My eyes widen as my heart flutters and time slows down around us. It’s me and him, lost in time, as he performs the big finish.

Leaning his head down just slightly, brown strands of hair falling next to his eyes, our lips connect.

It’s like he and I are completely one, as he holds me closer than I ever thought possible. His perfect mouth softly connects with my lips over and over, and when they touch mine I feel more passion and love than what I accepted as possible. Lust just barely lingers in the background, but I pay no attention to it. All I can feel right now is his kiss, his hand on the back of my neck, and his other palm pressed against mine on the glass display case.