Henry had reached out for a fry but when Iestyn said that, he dropped it on the carpet. "What?" he asked, looking up, his expression a little frantic. "M-me?! Y-y-y-y-you want to uh-uhm...get to know me better? Even though you know I'm- me?!"
Nice things didn't happen to Henry. Nice boys with beautiful smiles and tragic backstories didn't get to know him and actually like him. Henry was sure he was the kind of person who was going to be going to gay clubs at fifty and begging someone to dance with him. When people learned what he was really like, they tended to run.