Lance looked at him for a moment.
Then he nodded and went upstairs.
The bathroom was quiet and steaming and Lance sank into the tub and stared at the ceiling and let the warmth work its way back into his bones slowly.
He thought about nothing for a while.
Then he thought about everything.
The press conference. Henry's hands on his wrists. Don't victimise it. His mother's voice in the rain. Thank you for the apartment I'll make sure everything is in order before I leave.
He looked at the water around him.
He thought, not seriously, not with any real intention behind it, just the kind of thought that surfaces when a person is exhausted enough that their mind stops filtering itself, that it would be very easy to just stay here. To stop carrying all of it.
But then, he knew he couldn't. He was the eldest, how could he stop carrying it.
He sat up.
Washed his hair.
Got out.
He found Ansel in the study.
