I stare at him, taken aback by how his entire demeanour seems to change: the sharp, regal lines of his face softening, white teeth flashing, his shoulders slipping forward from their usual stiff posture. He’s so closed off all the time that I didn’t even think Henry was capable of laughing. For a moment I wonder what we might look like from an outsider’s perspective: just two teenagers joking around and sharing candy and chatting together after class. Friends, maybe.
