My knuckle knocks on the door, softer than a lullaby.

"Come in." A solemn voice comes from within, making me push open the door.

Each and every angle and nook of Henry's study seems like the careful placing of a paint brush against a virgin canvas.
Even the papers and books on his table are always stacked while he reads and works.
Not even a smudge of dust visible.
Except for the spot of ink I left the last time I was here.

Henry looks up from his reading; he gives a faint smile, and gestures at the seat facing him from across his table.
His cheeks aren't hollowed and he isn't fidgeting.

I slide into it, fingers padding on my thighs.

But then my eyes wander to his hands. The skin is a brick red, contrary to the normal paleness, with pithy scratches.

He's been scrubbing harshly again.

"Why are you observing me so keenly?" He pulls his hands onto his lap and away from my gaze.

The grandfather clock clicks away five times, questioning each flick.

I stop padding my thigh and out the same hand on the table.
"I'm observing what's bothering you."

"Quite direct today."
Henry takes his pages and nearly stacks them into the building of parchments at his side.
"Nothing's bothering me."

"Then can you explain why you're doing that again?" I point to his hidden hands.

Henry always did that when he was a child, usually before balls or examinations at school. Even though, he always had the best results at the end of both.

My nails bite into my own palm.

"It's nothing, Matthew. Totally insignificant." His straight shoulders slump a bit.

"You're using contractions, brother. Something is bothering you." I push my chair back and rotate around the table, reaching and sitting on its edge.
"And quite a bit from the looks of it."

"My using contractions does not mean that Judgement Day is near." Henry rolls his eyes.

"It may not."
I sigh, shutting my eyes.
"But you know, I will always be here for you." pushing back the chair, I stand.
"I shan't ask you more, but you can come to me whenever you want to talk about it."
Nodding at him, I paddle towards the door, heart still beating in my chest.

"Why... why all this?" A faint voice comes from behind.

Because I never had someone like an elder sibling to talk to after William Hopkins... passed away...

"Because you're my blood." My words linger in the air, like the frost on a window.

My feet only take a few more steps when Henry's voice stops me.

"I am just overthinking about a dream, brother. There's nothing to worry about."

I turn around.

Henry shakes his head.
"Well, come sit. Do not only stand there while I bluster about."

Smiling, I cross the deep maroon carpet and beseat myself.
"What kind of dream?"

Henry leans back in his chair, arms crossed on his chest.
"My soul was sort of trapped within a crimson coloured journal for a few centuries," he sighs.
"I know it sounds ridiculous."

My jaw drops. "That..." my hand runs through my hair.
"I don't even know what to make of that."

"And..." He stops abruptly.

"And what?" I frown.

Henry taps the desk between us.
"And there was a little girl-- younger than Belle-- with me. She had an uncanny resemblance to you. Blonde hair, blue eyes, same facial features..."

I blink.
"You're either saying she was a very masculine looking girl or that I'm a very feminine looking man. Choose."

"Matthew!" My brother grumbles, flinging a hand at my direction.

"All right, pardon me for trying to lighten the mood." I pull both of my hands up.
"But have you seen this dream often?" A pause from me, as my head tilts to the side.
"Or any raven following you?"

"If a raven followed me, then I'd be vaguely suspicious of a plague." He rolls his eyes.
“And no, I haven't.”

Wondering the same, brother, wondering the same.

But I straighten in my seat, gazing at my brother pecking mindlessly on a copy of a play. 
Not just any play. It’s Much Ado About Nothing. His shoulders relax, almost like he's remembering a fond memory

"I remember you saying you didn't like that particular play," I say.

Henry keeps his attention on the play. "Tastes change." He shifts abruptly.

My brows furrow, but I smile.
"I may be reading into this too much, but I do think there's something else." He looks up, searching my face.
"But you don't have to tell me if you think it's too much," I say, trying to compensate.

The six strikes of the grandfather clock resounds into the quiet room, each flick slower than the last one.

"Something just... ended, Matthew," Henry sighs, picking up a stray pen from his table.

"Are you talking about..." I let him decide the fate of my words.

"My health is fine. Doctor Hopkins came and checked a few days ago. You need not worry." He presses his lips into a straight line.

"Is this about Miss Evanna, then?" I rub my chin, despite the thumping in my chest at the result.

Henry tilts his head to the side.
"Evanna? Why do you think it's about her?"

I pull my hands up again, as he rolls the pen in his hands

Well, this is awkward...

"I ended things with someone else."
He looks everywhere, except me, revolving a pen in his hands.

Ended things...

The slightest scarlet tinge on his cheeks and a pen gnawing into his skin gives me the answer.

"Where have you been? It's been almost two hours since you set off on that horse."

"I was around here, somewhere," he says, ending the conversation.

Then it all weighs down and leaves me leaning back into my seat.
"Was the person you ended things with Elias Addington?"

The pen falls from his grasp and onto the table.
"How did you know about Elias and me?"

"The way you talked to me about him during your school days..." I shrug.

He keeps staring at me.

"And well, you disappeared a lot with him after school," I add in, trying to compensate.

He only fervently shakes his head, mouth opening and closing a thousand times before he forms the correct words:
"Do you remember what I said when Isabelle called us a bunch of lusty barbarians?"

My coming back from the hospital. The dance lesson. What Henry said...

"I'm not the lusty one here..." I quote, eyes widening and putting all the available pieces together.
"Did you honestly use that to hint at this?"

"For lack of a better word!" Henry almost throws the copy of Much Ado About Nothing into the air before catching it last minute.

Coughing, the both of straighten. My palms press beneath my crossed legs, while Henry resigns back into his seat. He sighs,
"I may be open to romance, but not anything of the related to... a bedroom."

Well, I wasn't suggesting anything of that sort, but that does explain his aversion to marriage.

“Henry...” I start. 

Henry shakes his head. "I know all of this isn't conventional, but you have to understand—"

I'm going to have to tell him.

"Brother, I'm like you. You needn't worry about my judgement," I say steadily, despite my heart thumping in my chest. Henry drops his pen again. I sigh, "Though, I don't personally feel the same about the bedding part— not that I've had much experience. But yes, I'm attracted to both men and women."

"You never said anything..." Henry picks up his pen again, rolling it within his palms. 

"Neither did you," I reply, "before today." I never quite told anyone about this. Lord, I wasn't expecting to reveal something about my own character while talking to Henry… I reach over and place my hand over my brother's, encouraging him to speak. "Tell me what happened. Is this really about Elias?"

Surprisingly, Henry answers by returning the warmth between us.
“Though, this isn't about him. Our…. departure was more mutual and pleasant. Besides, his ill mother called him back to Cornwall when we were seventeen.”

I nod slowly, considering the words he just spoke.

Departure more pleasant and mutual...

"This one seems hard on you," I state, "with this end and the dream combined. Was it better for the both of you?"

Henry looks at a bird outside giving the last chirp of the day, the moments passing by.

He finally nods.
"It was better. For the both of us."

My shoulders relax, and a smile comes without my consent.
"Ending a... an involvement," I cringe at the wording, but he only nods, "may seem difficult now, but they must end if they become a burden."

Henry studies my words-- mind elsewhere-- putting notes together in the correct symphony.

Meanwhile, my own ears redden and chest thumps.

Why does this feel like I've given a speech at Parliament?

But then Henry smiles at me, making me sigh in relief.
His brows furrow a bit, as he says,
"And you're really all right with all I said..."

"Frankly, I came here thinking you were having health issues again, and now I find myself sincerely relieved." I lean back into my chair.
"Even Belle was worried because you seemed so lost."

Even though the dream he talked about seems strange, a wave of serenity passes over me at the confirmation of his health.

Henry rolls his eyes, standing up from his chair.
"Always dramatic, you two. And I'm supposed to be the one who reads Shakespeare on a daily basis."

I shrug, as Henry rotates around the table before sitting on it.
"I will not deny being more of a man of prose, rather than poetry." But then a dread settles within me, a rock solid one.
"You... you haven't told anyone else about yourself and Elias?"

"Never do anything of this sort, Matthew. Never again, either in front of me or behind my back." Words echoing… each one feeling like a slap… 

Henry shakes his head, and my rigid muscles relax.
He says,
“I don't want to get arrested for gross indecency.”

Thank God, he hasn't seen what I have then.

I frown, pushing back my seat and sitting on the left edge of the desk, while Henry's on the right.

I squeeze his shoulder.
"If you don't mind my asking, who is this person we're talking about?" I ask suddenly, unable to think of any other route that might not cause more displeasure for him.

Despite my worry, he only smiles. "She requested me to not reveal her name, sorry."

At least now I know the gender.

I joke, keeping my tone light.
"You know mostly those people say that who don't want their spouses to find out."

Henry takes the joke and allows himself a chuckle.
"I also don't want to be shot in the chest by some indignant spouse, brother."

"At least assure me she isn't two decades older than you. Or tell me something about her. I already know about Elias--" My speech is cut short by Henry swatting my arm.
"What? Don't you remember that forty year old man I threw out of the house when he was eyeing our fourteen year old sister.
Even our parents didn't object to that."

"That was quite the intermission for a ball." He weighs my words and says,
"She's only two years older than me. And she was-- is a wonderful person."

A smile comes onto his face.

This... reminds me that I don't even know Mathilda's birthday or anything else.
Why is my state so miserable?

"Anyway, enough about me.
What about you and Miss Mathilda? You haven't talked about her for a while."

I throw my head back, shutting my eyes at the image of brown ones quickly encasing themselves.
"I am to meet her in a week's time. To discuss something..."

"Too many half truths have been spoken..."

The grandfather clock rings seven times, bringing me back to life. Unlike any messiah.
A knock resounds; Henry gives permission for entry.

Edmund peeks in and says,
"Masters, it is time for supper."

"We're coming, Edmund," I say, and the door clicks shut a moment later.

Henry says, getting down from the table. "Matthew… thank you… for today…"

Standing up, I give Henry's shoulder a gentle pat. "You needn't show me gratitude, Henry. I'm your brother." I smile, staying with him a bit longer till the both of us are ready to leave the study.

Isabelle eyes the both of us during supper, but only sighs in relief at our relaxed postures.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully before we drag ourselves to bed.

With sleep not coming back to my bed afterwards, I find myself turning the pages of Mathilda's "Forever a Vow", reading each and every word like a sailor needs to memorise the constellations of the stars.

Readers who've come here from TGD will recognise the references I've left till now XD

And I think this is the longest SOL chapter published to date. 2k words 0_0

*says the person who wrote even 5k word chapters in her old book*

Also, as you all already know, male homosexuality was criminalised till 1967.
Newspapers and other outlets used the term "gross indecency" while referring to it.
This criminalisation is the reason why Matthew was worried about whether or not anyone else knows about Henry and Elias.

For more information about struggles of the late 19th century LGBTQ+ community, click on the inline comment link to read Oscar Wilde's court cases.

Also, while referring to these characters, I would appreciate readers to say the correct labels for them, the ones which I personally believe said characters would have preferred if they born in this day and age.

Matthew: bisexual
Henry: panromantic asexual

All in all, I hope you have a great day!
Love,
MS Zame

P. S. I guess Isabelle was wrong about Henry caring too much about his "footsize" xD