Charles and Camilla stood across the room from each other, panting. Shattered glass reflected the fire light and cast harsh shapes of light around the room. Someone was knocking at the door. They continued to stare at eachother until Camilla turned on her heel and went to open it. It was Henry.

"Henry."

Henry took a step forward, concern obvious on his face.

"What the hell Camilla?"

"Henry- just ah-"

Henry carefully moved Camilla to the side. Her wrists were bruised, her hair tousled, there was a cut across cheekbone. He rushed into the room, wildly looking for Charles. Charles stood where Camilla had left him, he was gazing at the wall.

"Goddammit Charles. You hurt her didn't you? It was you. Her own brother. This fucking has to stop."

Charles turned his head towards Henry, his indifferent expression crumbled. He hadn't expected Henry to confront him, let alone find out.

"She hates me. I got angry."

Henry looked at him in disbelief.

"Charles. I'm going to go talk to Camilla- and then we're going to leave."

Henry stood blocking the doorway to Camilla's bedroom as she threw together some of her stuff. She paused to glance up at him.

"Are we going to Frances' house?"

"No, he's too depressed."

"Okay..."

Henry just looked her. He didn't want Charles to over hear them. She turned her attention back to packing. When she finished they rushed through the halls and out the front door. Henry took special care to slam it.

Camilla swung herself into Henry's car; she did everything with such grace. Even when in the state that she was, she was composed and steady. Her elegance was constant, everlasting.

Henry started the car and recklessly reversed out of the gravel driveway. His headlights illuminated Charles' haunting shadow through the front window curtains. Henry could have sworn he saw Camilla shiver. He sighed.

"Camilla- I... what happened tonight?"

Camilla looked away from him out the passenger window. She couldn't let him see she was in tears.

"Charles got really drunk..."

Okay. No surprise, Henry thought.

"And he... well you know how sometimes he desires me romantically?"

Henry's jaw clenched, yes, he did know, and although it was very Greek in nature, it sickened him.

"So anyway, like I said, he got really drunk and uh- started kissing me."

Camilla started instinctively rubbing her wrists as she recalled the moment. "I pushed him away from me because well, I wasn't drunk tonight, so wasn't willing to..."

"Alright, alright. I understand."

Henry continued driving in silence. He grabbed Camilla ' s hand. It was risk- he wanted to comfort her, but wasn't exactly sure how. The front window reflected a her small smile and she laced their fingers together.

"I'm glad you came Henry."

They pulled up at the most expensive hotel in Hampton.

"The Albemarle?"

"Yes" Henry replied casually.

"I'll go get your bag...why don't you head inside and make a reservation for us."

Camilla nodded and started to walk away.

"And Camilla-"

"Yeah?"

"Don't use either of our names."

She continued walking.

Henry grabbed her bag and locked his car. He was hoping Camilla wouldn't mind sharing a room. It wasn't that he couldn't pay for both, he didn't want to be alone. He took a deep breath and made his way inside where he saw Camilla sitting on one of their vintage sofas, room key balanced on her finger.

He lifted the bag in a gesture to say "let's go".

They walked up the stairs, Henry paused at the door and turned to Camilla.

"I know it's selfish but, I thought we'd share a room because despite the state you're in... I don't want to be alone Camilla. If you're not okay with it though, I'll go get another room for you."

Camilla surprised him by kissing him on cheek.

"Of course not Henry, what makes you think I want to be alone?"

He smiled, he loved her.

The next morning Henry woke up to bright light blinding his dark blue eyes. Camilla was still sleeping. Her blond hair splayed over the pillow, over her face, she was laying on her side as though waiting to be painted. He smiled in appreciation of her beauty, then winced. There were dark circles under her eyes, how long had it been since she had actually slept? She was cradling her bruised wrists against her chest.

She blinked sleepily and Henry panicked. He grabbed his greek book from the night table and pretended to be reading it as she woke up.

"Henry?"

"Good morning Camilla."

Camilla smiled.

"Henry can we just stay here for awhile?"

"My life happens on a whim. No cause. No effect. I've got more money than Julius. Of course we can."

"And Henry. Frances and Richard can't know what happened. Don't tell them where we are...or Charles."

Henry nodded.

"What do say?- room service?"

"Sure."

Camilla ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, oatmeal and coffee. Unlike Bunny, she didn't take advantage of Henry's money. Henry himself ordered a Bloody Mary and eggs benedict. Today was going to be a nice day.

Their breakfast arrived after only a couple minutes and they sat together at the little balcony table. The hotel had accompanied their breakfast with a small glass vase of yellow roses. Their bright color reminded him of Camilla. She was the light of the group, her face always bright, always hopeful.

Henry thought he must have commented a total of three times on them. He loved flowers, especially roses. But most of all, being with Camilla made him feel vaguely nervous and jittery. He thought of how she had laced their fingers together. She was the only one that ever made him feel that way.

They spent the day lounging around the hotel room, reading Greek and debating philosophy. Glasses of red wine had been circulating in and out of the room all day, and currently the conversation had digressed to petty revelations about mythology. It was a romantic topic, it seemed to always come back to who had sex with who and what was the consequence.

What would the consequence of having sex with Camilla be? Henry thought. Henry wasn't one to wonder for long, nor was he feeling particularly cautious.

"-and that is why Hades and Persephone are the most poetic lovers of all."

"Do you love me too Camilla?"

Camilla froze, her lips parted but she didn't respond. She couldn't believe Henry was being so bold. He was right of course, she did love him. Their connection had always been the core of the group. Lighthearted and kind, collected and manipulative. She noticed Henry was swirling his wine nervously. Had she not responded yet? Oh gods. She didn't know what to say.

So she got up and crossed the room to where he sat, his shoulders slumped. He looked at her curiously but didn't move. She bent over, took his wine glass and set it on the table. Then she kissed him. Henry took a second to register what was happening and then began hungrily kissing her back. He stood, still kissing her. She leabed into him and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He broke the kiss to bury his head in her hair.

"Camilla." He whispered. "Camilla I've been so patient."

Camilla sighed. "I know Henry. But aren't you glad now? We're together. Untouchable."

"Yes, for now we are."

Henry couldn't help but think of how long it would be until they were caught. By the police, by Frances, by Richard. And with dread he thought, by Charles. Charles would want to kill him. Charles had punched him in a rage that day he merely kissed Camilla. Camilla. His attention came back to her. She was kissing her way across his collarbone.

Well fuck, he thought. Screw Charles. Screw them all.

He wasn't usually this reckless, and now he was high with the feeling.

Warning: NSFW parts from here on.

He started kissing Camilla again, this time taking the lead and pressing her against the wall. Her bruises had started to heal but he still took care to be gentle. She grinned and started unbuttoning his shirt. He ran his fingers over her stockings, up her thigh, and beneath her skirt. Camilla pressed herself into his hold. She knew this could be the only chance she had to have him. Who knew when the others would catch up to him.

"Camilla."

Breathily, she replied. "Yes?"

"Take off your clothes."

She swallowed and met his gaze.

"I- okay Henry."

Thoughts raced through Camilla ' s mind. How would she sexily take off her clothes? She was used to Charles ripping them off, or worse, not even bothering. She looked back up at Henry. He had a feral look on his face, waiting. To hell with it. She started with her top. Then her skirt. She slowly peeled her stockings off, purposefully making a spectacle of it. She watched triumphantly as Henry bit his bottom lip. Her bra and panties went next and by now Henry looked like he was barely controlling himself. She innocently ran her hands across her breasts, stomach, and hips.

Henry closed the space between them and started exploring her body with the tips of his own fingers. He wanted to say something, she was so perfect.

But instead, he was distracted by Camilla stealthily undoing his belt. When had she slid his shirt off?

"Henry?"

"Yes darling?"

Darling, she thought. Darling. She liked it.

"Are you going to take me now or not?" He smirked, if only she knew. Camilla could tell by his smirk that he was getting more confident, and she wanted him to be.

Henry led her to the bed and she laid down, arms flung over her head. He positioned himself above her and kissed down her thighs as he spread them apart.

"Now Henry."

"Patience Camilla."

Henry said this purposefully, he had been so patient before. It was her turn.

He slid two fingers into her and her breath caught.

"So really do want me as much as I want you."

"Yes." She barely choked it out.

He would have played with her longer, if not for the fact that he was just as desperate. So he pulled his fingers out slowly lowered himself down and inside her. She brought her arms down around his lower back, there were no tears in her eyes. She was no virgin, in fact, Charles had made quite sure of that. But this was different than when she was with Charles. Henry took his time, he ran his fingers through her hair and placed feather light kisses all over her. They were gods she thought. So beautiful, so desperate for each other, and inevitably doomed.