Henry didn’t really understand love like that. He had read about it a lot, but he was only ten and hadn’t experienced a true love like that one. He knew his grandparents had been in that kind of love and had been thrown through a whole bunch of craziness to try and destroy their love, but none of it would work. Even as Mary Margaret and David they were still drawn to one another. It was fate. It was love.
“I hope you get to see him again.” It was all he could really think of to say about any of it. People kept secrets a lot, and they always thought it was helping the people they loved, but Henry wasn’t so sure about that. It hurt the people you loved to keep them in the dark about important things in your life and in their lives. He hoped he didn’t have to do that to anyone he loved. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it.
Henry looked up at the clock and bit his lip. “I think I have to go now, but want to talk again another day? You can tell me more about the revolution and I’ll tell you more about heroes?”