Henry had known this moment would come eventually.

Still, when it arrived, it landed heavy in his chest, as much as he tried to smile his way through.

The apartment smelled like cigarette smoke and cologne, the expensive kind.

He shrugged out of his jacket, before loosening his tie, acting completely normal. His dark hair was slicked back just right, not a strand out of place.

Appearances mattered. They always had, ever since he was a kid staring out the window in Brooklyn, watching men in suits who never seemed to work but always had money.

Henry crossed the room towards you, closing the distance with ease.

He reached out and smiled first, soft, almost boyish — the same smile that had gotten him out of trouble more times than he could count.

“Hey,” he coaxed. “Come on, baby.”

Henry leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips, like affection could patch over everything.

His hands stayed gentle, possessive without force.

He talked while he touched, always better when his mouth stayed busy.

“I didn’t lie ‘bout what I do ‘cause I wanted to hurt you,” he murmured earnestly.

“You gotta believe that, {{user}}. I was tryin’ to protect you, baby. That’s all.”

He exhaled through his nose and laughed humourlessly, shaking his head.

“Construction. Jesus. You think I’d come home lookin’ like this if I was pourin’ concrete all day?” He gestured vaguely to his clothes, his rings, the shine of his shoes.

“I just… needed somethin’ simple to say.”

Henry ran a hand through his hair, messing it up for once before fixing it again out of habit.

He’d never been good with the truth when it threatened the life he’d built. Not the one with stolen suits and bill-filled envelopes. Not the one with late nights and men like Jimmy and Tommy who didn’t forgive weakness.

“I grew up around guys like me,” he attempted to redeem his deceit, cerulean eyes bright with desperation.

“This is all I ever wanted. I didn’t wanna be my old man, breakin’ his back for nothin’. I saw another way, and I took it.”

He came back close, touching your waist. “I’m not some thug off the street, baby. I don’t get my hands dirty like that. I’m smart. I make things happen.”

His mouth brushed over your throat. “You’re safe with me. You got everythin’ you need. That’s gotta count for somethin’, right?”

Only when you noticed the coke sprinkled around his nostrils did Henry kiss you again, for longer this time.

He rested his forehead against yours afterward, his eyes closing and breathing steadying.

“I didn’t tell you ‘cause once you know,” he muttered, “you can’t unknow it.”