|08|
"Drunken embarrasment."
AT FIRST CLARA WAS STARTLED— when Henry appeared at her window late that night, barely able to hold himself up as he tapped on the glass. Clara frowned, pulling open the window so Henry could climb through.
"Henry?" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
Henry stumbled over his feet, almost toppling over Clara. He gave her a ditzy smile, that sent waves of warmness into Clara's body.
"Claraaa." He said exitedly, before brushing past her, and plopping down onto her bed, spreading out so he was comfortable.
"Are you alright?" Clara's eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him, but he was too out of it to even register her concern. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you, of course." He said it like it was obviouse, though he held no annoyance to make Clara think that he was calling her stupid.
"Oh." Her voice became small, as she stepped towards him, her knees hitting his as he pushed himself onto his elbows.
"I want you to kiss me." He said urgently, without any hesitation as he stared up at Clara, who blinked in confusion.
"Are you drunk, Henry?" She asked him, pressing her lips together.
Henry laughed, "just a tad bit."
Clara sighed, glancing around the room, she knew Henry would never make it back to his room alone, not in the state that he was in, he could barely even hold himself up, let alone walk to the other side of the school. Her only option was to let him spend the night, though the only problem was making sure he didnt get caught, that was a problem she would have to wait to deal with, for at the moment she had to deal with a drunken Henry on who knows what.
"Claraaa." He whined, reaching out towards her, his fingers falling just short of the fabric of her shirt, "just kiss me."
Clara shook her head, "Your drunk."
Henry looked at her like his situation didnt change a thing, like him being drunk wouldnt change his mind about wanting to kiss her, but Clara knew he wasnt thinking straight, that whatever he had taken had made his brain go fuzzy— and to him this was probally just a delusion.
"I'll take the floor." She decided after a few moments of silence, but as soon as she said it, Henry jumped up, pulling her back towards him.
"No!" He said quickly, making Clara frown.
"I wont make you sleep on the floor when your drunk—"
"Then dont," he smirked, falling back onto Clara's bed, and dragging her with him. Clara's knees hit the mattress, just beside Henry, "dont make me sleep alone, Clara."
Clara huffed, before nodding, she wanted Henry to sleep, and arguing with him would achieve nothing, so she settled in beside him, underneath the covers, his body huddled close.
Henry breathed faintly from her side, his arms slowly snaking around her. Clara for a moment debating on wether or not she should pull away and tell Henry that this wasnt a good idea, that he didnt know what he was doing, but she didnt, and she remained silent, scooting further in Henry's comforting embrace, that washed away any panick that remained inside Clara.
