Henry is always late.

It's become such regular practice that Charlotte hardly even notices anymore. She, unlike her best friend, is always on time. She can't fathom the thought of showing up late for a commitment. What if she misses something interesting or important, and what does it say about her integrity if she never shows up when she says she will? Henry's perpetual tardiness is not something that she can understand, so she doesn't even try to. She just accepts it, and accepting it turns into not even thinking about it. Like, ever.

Or that's what she'll tell you. She says she doesn't ever think about it. And she doesn't, really! At least, not most of the time.

Except whenever Henry shows up to the Man Cave hours after she and Jasper have long since clocked in, his hair still a mess from sleep and his face adorned with a lazy smile. He doesn't look worried about what he might've missed at all — and he shouldn't, she thinks, because nothing interesting ever happens before he shows up.She doesn't ever tell him that she's missed him, because that would be weird, and she has usually seen him the night before anyway. So instead, she says, "look who finally showed up" or "wait, you still work here?"

And he rolls his eyes, but his smile always stays put. Maybe it even grows a little.

Henry is also always late for school.

She'll be sitting in her desk in first period before the bell rings, which is the time she sets aside to check her school email on her PearPad. Then, inevitably, her eyes will land on the time. Just a minute before the bell rings. Maybe two, on a good day. But either way, she'll turn around in her chair and look to the back of the classroom, where Henry prefers to sit.

And he's never there.

Back around to the front she'll turn, and that's when her right leg starts bouncing furiously. It's a nervous habit of hers, and she's been trying to break it, but somehow Henry always manages to make it act up again. She's watching the clock like a hawk now, as the second hand ticks closer and closer to the hour. She's staring so hard, she can hear the sound it's making over the noisy conversations of her classmates. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Late, late. Late, late.

And of course, the clock strikes eight and the bell rings and no sign of Henry, and Charlotte has to let out the gigantic breath she's been holding. He's going to have to go to the principal's office. Again. Minutes later, he'll slide in and whisper "psst" until she turns around, just so he can wave and smile, and she doesn't want to, but she waves back. She can't help but smile, too, but she makes sure her back is already turned to him so he can't see it. How, she wonders, can he care so little about being on time?

It doesn't end there, though. He's even late to social events.

He was late to Sidney and Oliver's joint birthday party. He made both of them late, actually, but Charlotte doesn't blame him for that one. She's not terribly keen on finding out whatever weird activities they have planned, so she doesn't try to hurry him too much. She just sits on the couch in his bedroom, listening to music as he sifts through his closet for something to wear and she occasionally chimes that, "we should probably get going, you know."

But when he peeks his head out from behind the door and says, "What's the rush? We'd probably have more fun here than if we bother going to that anyway" she decides that maybe it's okay if he takes his time. Just this once, of course.

He was late for prom, too. This one actually shocks her. He was so late, in fact, that she and Jasper had to beg the bouncer the school hired to even let him into the venue. The man didn't want to budge, for some reason. He took his job very seriously, it seemed.

"Please, sir, can you please let him in? It's our senior prom, we don't want to experience it without him."

"He's never late for anything," Jasper adds, clasping his hands as if in prayer. "I swear!"

The stoic figure in all black doesn't even flinch. "No can do," rumbles out of a firm, deep voice.

Charlotte hears one of the group's favorite songs come on, and she knows she has to think fast if they're going to get to dance to it. She sidles up to the man and gives him her very best sad-puppy. "Come on. You're not going make me suffer through prom without my boyfriend, are you?"

She can hear Jasper choke on his spit from behind her and it takes all of her strength not to stomp on his foot with her high heels, but somehow, she manages. And it seems like maybe she struck a chord — a heavenly, harmonious chord — because a thick eyebrow peeks out from above the chunky black sunglasses on the security guard's face.

He remains silent for a moment, mulling a decision over in his head, before waving a hand and stepping aside to let Henry by. "Ah, fine. You win, kid."

Henry wastes no time sliding inside. He may no longer have super fast reflexes, but he wasn't about to give the man a chance to change his mind. "Thank you, sir!" he calls as the three of them hustle to the dance floor. Their song is just getting to the good part.

But as they're making their way, she gets a gentle elbow to the side. She looks over to see that Henry is cocking a very smug look at her and she can't for the life of her decipher why, until he says,

"Boyfriend, huh?"

She groans and shuffles a little faster to get ahead of him. Darn those stupid heels.

Maybe, Charlotte realizes one day, she thinks about Henry always being late a little more than she would like to admit. She's not sure why it gets to her so much. Maybe it's because him being late means she's always waiting for him to get there. And it sucks, being somewhere that your best friend isn't. That's all.

But the truth, what she will never, ever admit, is that she just thinks about him a lot in general. About what he might be doing (whenever he's not there). About what stupid arguments he would be having with Ray or what weird shenanigans he would try to rope her into (whenever she's at work and he isn't).

About how he winks at her when he wants to say something to her without actually saying it, or how he has started to think more rationally... more like her, lately. How he always insists on doing their handshake-fistbump-ritual at the most inappropriate times, and how he looks at her when he thinks she doesn't see. She thinks about that stuff. A lot.

And there'll be one day down the line when she calls him in the middle of the night, stumbling over her words, just barely getting the message across that she doesn't know how and she doesn't know why, but she has caught feelings for her best friend, and that he's the only person she wants to tell because, after everything, he is still her best friend. And she loves him. And she misses him. And she needs to see him, now.

That day, Henry will not be late.

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Hello friends :) thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope you enjoyed it. I get in weird funks with writing and it can be hard, but writing this was fun so I may do more one shots in the near future. Love you lots x