I know some things should just stay broken
i'm well aware this should remain unspoken
A soft yawn left Sterling's lips as he stepped from the depths of the still steamy shower stall. He reached for the towel upon the rack, pulling off the dark grey cotton only to gingerly dry off his still wet skin. One foot was slowly followed by the other before Sterling draped the towel around his bare shoulders. He reached for his boxers, pulling them comfortably upon his hips. His soft, jersey cotton pajama pants followed suit, the material hung distinctly low upon his physique but with his now pristine, scarless skin, Sterling hardly bothered to fix them. Instead, he ruffled his ebony locks with the towel, drying off the excessive wetness before his fingers ran through their haphazard placement, slicking them back against his head. God, it was late, that tiredness already pulling at the warlock though his small apartment was still lit up as if it was early evening. Darkness, after all, still made Sterling anxious, even if those fears of his initial kidnapping all those years ago had largely vanished from the boy's waking thoughts. He was already considering the warm comfort of his bed, and thus had only just emerged from his bathroom when a knock at his front door filled the otherwise quiet flat.
Sterling's eyebrows knitted together in a small display of confusion, the corners of his lips tugged downwards in a small frown. Who could it be at this hour? Surely it wasn't Harley, was it? Their recent trip to California had, admittedly, rekindled their friendship into something far more close then it was before. He had promised her that his door was always open to her, regardless of whatever it is she might need. It was that very commitment that saw Sterling turn, tossing his damp towel on the bathroom floor before his bare feet maneuvered down the dark wooden hallway. He hardly bothered to look through the small peephole, the Warlock altogether certain it must be his neighbor, after all, it wasn't like anyone else visited Sterling. The very last thing he expected to see as he opened the front door was the face of his ex. His features twisted near immediately - first a visible glimpse of shock at discovering Henry on his doormat, followed immediately by a frown and knitted together eyebrows, only for his bright blue eyes to narrow. What the hell did Henry want from him now.
He watched as Henry's gaze immediately turned to the floor, the man's voice quiet even in the stillness of the night. Sterling, however, remained nothing short of deathly silent as he listened to the plight of the man he'd once given everything to. God, he hated his own soft-heartedness, even Sterling incapable of stopping that guilt that afflicted him. A soft sigh left his lips as Henry paused, only to clarify that unspoken request. A shower...a tent....and a sleeping bag. Really? Slowly, one brow rose ever so slightly before Sterling slowly stepped aside, holding the door open further. "Yeah, whatever." He commented dryly, "You know where everything is." The blue-eyed boy muttered, closing the door only once Henry had stepped in. He could hardly believe Henry had come back - albeit if only because apparently Malia didn't also own a showr and a fucking tent. His lips pressed together firmly even as he made his way to the hallway closet to get Henry his own towel. He couldn't help but to pause, however, as he opened the closet door - Henry's linens still tucked away neatly. Did he really plan to turn Henry out in the cold with nothing but a sleeping bag and a tent? God, he was going to regret this so much.
I'm on the ledge while you're so
God damn polite and composed