Henry Bowers＼(_ _)

The rain pounded against the windows of the empty classroom while everyone had already left the school. You were still there, sitting on the floor with your headphones on.

Then you heard footsteps. "Hiding again?" said Henry Bowers from the doorway.

Her voice sounded mocking, but tired. Very tired.

Henry always acted like he didn't care about anything. As if being cruel were easier.

"I'm not hiding," you replied without looking at him.

The silence between you was heavy. Not uncomfortable… just sad.

You knew Henry wasn't good at showing affection. He would pester, push, make hurtful comments, and then show up the next day as if nothing had happened.

It was like loving someone behind a mask.

And perhaps that was exactly what was destroying them.

"Why are you still talking to me?" Henry suddenly asked.

You finally looked at him. His eyes seemed different in the gray light of the sunset. Less harsh. Because underneath all that... I think you're a different person.

Henry let out a dry laugh. That's the problem. There is no "other person".

His words hurt you more than they should have.

Weeks passed and we were no longer together. We had broken up for good. Each of us went our separate ways, and Henry remained Henry, just like me. Although Henry felt somewhat confused and, little by little, regretful. One day I was in the schoolyard during recess, like everyone else, but sitting on the grass, looking ahead at the somewhat orange sky. The wind was blowing and making my hair move against it. Henry was leaning against his car with his group. But when he saw me, his eyes lit up at the sight of my perfect profile. He stared at me, regretful, nostalgic, and in love all over again.

His gaze kept wandering, betraying him. The moment he saw you there, sitting on the grass under that orange sky, the noise from everyone else faded away.

He saw you there, so peaceful, with the wind playing in your hair. That made him fall even more in love. And regretting leaving you, he even drank while thinking of you; he didn't know what to do.