Henry takes a deep breath, the corner of his mouth quirking down slightly. He realises bemusedly that he hasn't really answered Alex's question yet. Old habits of evasion are hard to drop, he supposes. So he shatters the silence.

"Return of the Jedi." He says, and Alex jumps. There's a beat in which Alex furrows his brow in confusion and Henry wonders if he could just die already.

"What?"

"To answer your question," He explains hastily, "Yes, I do like Star Wars, and my favourite is Return of the Jedi."

"Oh. Wow, you're wrong." Henry huffs, crossing his arms and glaring defensively up at Alex.

"How can I be wrong about my own favourite? It's a personal truth."

"It's a personal truth that is wrong and bad." Henry sighs, registering that it's useless trying to argue with Alex; it's like trying to reason with a brick wall. An incredibly stubborn wall, at that.

"Which do you prefer, then? Please show me the error of my ways."

"Okay, Empire."

"So dark, though." Henry wrinkles his nose. He realises distantly that here he is, stuck in a storage closet in the middle of something that may or may not be an assassination attempt, and he's talking to the First Son of America about Star Wars, of all things. And he might even be enjoying it.

"Yeah, which is what makes it good," Alex continues, gesticulating to the ceiling. "It's the most thematically complex. It's got the Han and Leia kiss in it, you meet Yoda, Han is at the top of his game, there's Lando Calrissian, and the best twist in cinematic history. What does Jedi have? Ewoks."

"Ewoks are iconic."

"Ewoks are stupid." Henry sees nothing wrong with Ewoks. When he was younger, he'd wanted one for a pet, and had practically broken down in tears when Bea had told him, through peals of laughter, that they weren't actually real. Besides, she'd said, it would be cruel to capture one. They were better off in the wild, apparently.

"But Endor." He argues.

"But Hoth. There's a reason people always call the best, grittiest installment of a trilogy the Empire of the series."

"And I can appreciate that. But isn't there something to be valued in a happy ending as well?"

"Spoken like a true Prince Charming."

"I'm only saying, I like the resolution of Jedi. It ties everything up nicely. And the overall theme you're intended to take away from the films is hope and love and...er, you know, all of that. Which is what Jedi leaves you with a sense of most of all."

Henry likes happy endings. He gets that they sound cliched and cringey, but he supposes he wants them to get the happy ending he'll never have. It's pretty depressing, but that's how it is. How his life is. He knows he'll never get his happily ever after; that he'll have to play a part his whole life, pretend to be the perfect Prince Charming while on the inside he slowly crumbles away. Henry wishes sometimes he could be like Bea; not care what people think of him, not be afraid to be himself. But he isn't his sister. He isn't like her. He does care what others think, and his fear holds him back. His fear of what Phillip would do- what his Grandmother would do, his family, if they knew what he was.

He coughs, and Alex turns to fix him with a steely glare again, mouth swinging open swiftly to answer back, when the door to the storage closet swings open and the hulking silhouette of Alex's security guard gestures to them. As Henry blinks in the sudden, harsh light, Cash fills them in, panting heavily.

"False alarm. Some dumbass kids brought fireworks for their friend." He tilts his head to the side, looking down at them and clearing his throat loudly.

"This looks cosy." Instantly, Henry jumps up, embarrassed, already feeling the tips of his ears begin to colour, and straightens, leaping away from Alex as if he's burnt him. Cash arches a knowing eyebrow at him, and Henry blushes more, lowering his head and staring helplessly at his hands, twisting the signet ring around his finger. Alex reaches a hand out and lets Cash haul him to his feet, still managing to come off as graceful, and looking anything but flustered. The complete opposite of Henry, who's now playing the events of the past minutes back in his head like a mortifying video tape, wincing and cringing at himself. It's like he's a different person now to the one he was a second ago. The Prince Charming mask has slid neatly back into place, and he passes a hand over his face, forcing down the blush and smiling blandly at Alex.

"Let's go, then."