Henry Perrin's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

Henry was still on the temple steps when he heard footsteps on the path. Violet came up with a basket on her hip, lavender spilling out in bright purple bunches. She set a round glass vase on the low wall and began arranging the stems. "For the festival," she said. "Figured you could use them before they wilt on me." Then Alexander came around the bend, sleeves pushed up, the silver ring catching the sun. He stopped when he saw her. Violet looked up and smiled, small and crooked. "This is going to sound completely unhinged," she said, "but I picked the best ones thinking of you. You said you liked the dark purple last time." Alexander smiled. Not his careful smile. A real one, slow and surprised, like a window opening. "They look like dusk," he said softly. "Thank you." Henry's stomach dropped. He saw the warmth pass between them, light and easy and terrible. He saw the burning ring on Alexander's hand. He saw the bones behind the cottage. Henry stepped between them, gentle but quick. He took the vase from Violet's hands. "They're beautiful. I'll set them inside myself." He met her eyes. "It's not a good week to linger here, Violet. The festival has me running. Alexander too. Come another day, when we can do it properly." Violet's smile faltered. She read his face. She did not argue. "Right. Sure. Another day." She picked up her basket and went, braid swinging, not looking back. Alexander watched her go. The light left his face by inches. "You sent her away," he said, quiet. Henry held the vase against his chest. "I had to." Alexander did not answer. He turned and walked toward the cottage alone. Henry stood on the steps with the lavender shaking in his hands and knew the cure had to come faster now. There was no more room for kindness to wait.