Love was a concept that I never really could fathom. It was a very delicate feeling that bodily functions could not decipher. It could not be conveyed in the form of words solely on air as a medium in between, there were strings. Strings that connected people, invisible strings that could only be felt, but not touched.
So, when those strings broke, it was mandatory that it would hurt.
I guess that's what people call getting heartbroken.
And I knew these feelings all too well. My heart had been broken from so many different angles and from so many different people, and still, it never seemed to budge. No matter how much it hurt, and no matter how much I've felt like I couldn't keep on living, I always survived in the end. Each heartbreak was unlike the other heartbreak; just like salt and sugar. You just couldn't compare them.
However, what heartbreaks had in common, was that it was bound to leave behind a lasting scar, and a story. This story could still make me smile through my tears. It was trapped in pictures that flickered through my mind sometimes; the videogames we played, the flowery meadows outside Swellview where we used to run around, the street we used to bike around, a night full of stars that we stared at while we laid down on the Hart's lawn, the giggles that escaped my mouth every time he made a funny grimace, the bus seat he saved for me every day before school and the place where we chased butterflies. In the end, the boy withdrew and found other friends, leaving behind a fragile, broken girl; me.
Our story started with a friendship, but for me, it would develop into something else. Something I didn't understand when I was little, but have always felt.
Henry Hart was a carefree and outgoing. I, Charlotte Bolton, was timid and fragile. He was impulsive, I was careful. I was in love, he was not.
For him, that was how our friendship ended. But for me, these feelings were endless. I still felt as strongly for him now as I did back then.
From when I was little, I had been forced to build my walls up high, due to the few amounts of people I could trust. Henry had been the exception. He proved for me there were nice people out there. People who wouldn't leave or stab you in the back. People who would like you for who you were. Even If we drifted apart, Henry was never rude to me.
The reckless Henry Hart had been my first friend.
It's kind of crazy how I experienced love at the young age of six and a half, and it was for my amber eyed friend.
I still remember our first encounter like it like yesterday. It was the first day of school, and I sat with my eyes glued to the desk. All of my classmate's parents were present; snapping pictures and smiling proudly. All of our parents were there, except mine. I had no one's hand to hold on my way to school, I had no one to take my picture, I had no one to give me words of encouragement. My parents were too busy with work to come. And besides, I was a big girl. I didn't need my parents to do things. But even if I told myself this, I was very jealous of my classmates. I wished my parents weren't busy all the time.
My eyes began to water now, being the crybaby I was. I tried to blink away the tears and block out everyone. I was little, lonely and afraid. After all, I wish I had someone to talk to. Anyone.
And then, as if someone read my mind, a boy with bright amber eyes, messy blonde hair and a wide grin tapped my shoulder.
"Hi! I'm Henry, what's your name?" He asked happily.
"Uh, I- I," I stuttered, my voice shaky. I wasn't good at social interaction. "I'm Charlotte."
He nodded, the smile never faltering. "Cool! Can I sit here?" He pointed to the free seat beside me.
"Sure," I nodded, wiping away the tears before he could notice.
Once he plopped down on the seat beside mine, he turned to me and flashed me yet another bright smile. But once he noticed the unhappy look on my face, his smile disappeared. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," I said quickly. I hated it when people pitied me. "I'm fine."
"Oh," he replied, seemingly disappointed I didn't want to open up to him. Then he placed a hand above mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, Charlotte, do you want to be my friend?"
For him, it had been just a simple question, but for me, that was everything. Everything I had ever dreamt of. From that day on, I was never alone anymore. Because I had Henry.
Over the years, we began to talk and grow closer. We eventually became best friends and shared the best of memories a kid can have. We attended the same elementary and middle school, and no day passed without us being together. We were nearly inseparable.
We used to laugh and talk, and we did everything together. But eventually as time passed, we grew up and apart. He grew fond of someone else, and I continued doing my thing. It's weird how someone you practically grew up with became a stranger in such a short time. Now I'm lucky if I catch his eye in the middle of the busy hallways of the high school.
Henry had moved on. I didn't.
We already started to drift apart in middle school, even if we hung out once in a while. He found new popular friends; friends who were cool and not dull and boring, like me. Puberty decided to mess him up and all the girls at school decided to steal my best friend away. We stopped sitting next to each other during classes, we stopped saving each other seats in the cafeteria, and we stopped talking and texting each other totally by the time we entered high school. It was like we became total strangers, even if we were our old selves. Our new high school was bigger than our old middle school, and I soon molded in and disappeared in the sea of students in the hallway. Henry was out of reach.
Henry became a popular and well-liked, and I became a wallflower.
My parents were different. While growing up, they made clear who was the boss and told me how to act, dress and talk. This, naturally, caused a disadvantage in my character. I turned out to be terrible at making my mind and making my own decisions. Sure, I was smart and my teachers always praised my hard work, but deep down inside I was very insecure. However, I figured out as long as no one noticed this, I would be fine. That's one good thing about being a wallflower and fading into big crowds; nobody noticed you.
But being alone also came with trains of thoughts. I still couldn't forget Henry, his silly faces, his adorable smile, his company, him. The memories flashed so vividly in my mind; it was impossible to just forget. I could only busy myself in studying and reading, in order to forget him, stop missing him, and stop loving him. But it was easier said than done. No one could just shut off their feelings.
Eight months ago, he started dating Bianca. They became a fairy tale couple, and much to my surprise, I really didn't mind. That gave me yet another reason to move on. Henry and Bianca were happy together, and the least I could do was to be happy for them. For Henry's sake. I could only hope he wouldn't get hurt in the end. I wish him all this because I love him.
Even if he didn't return my feelings, Henry will always be important to me.
Geez, I hope I didn't make it too cheesy. I needed the prologue to be like this, and now that's out of the way I can't wait to kick this story into action! Even if this is an AU, Henry will still be kid danger :)
I recently got into Henry Danger and I really like that show. I'm still new to the fandom and I'm still figuring out how the main characters are like, but I think I have a picture in my head already. Don't be afraid to tell me if I'm writing them too OOC!