Hurt Me Like You Mean It [BL] Chapter 3: Because Lance listens to me

"It’s in my wallet," Lance said, checking the pocket just to satisfy him.

Henry grinned. "Good. Because after this shift? We’re drinking."

Lance didn’t argue. He didn’t feel like drinking, but he also didn’t feel like being alone in his apartnt tonight.

Henry grabbed the door handle but turned back before opening it. "You good, though?"

Lance adjusted his apron one last ti. "Yeah. I’m fine."

Henry held his stare for a second, clearly not convinced, but didn’t push.

He nodded and opened the door, the distant chatter and clinking of cups drifting in.

"Let’s go. Your admirers await."

Lance sighed quietly and followed him out.

Mariah nodded seeing them coming out, relief softening her shoulders a little before she went back to the register.

Now it was ti to take care of the girls.

Lance walked over to where they were seated.

There was only one girl in the group who actually liked him, and her na was Primrose.

The others mostly ca because she dragged them along. They looked tired of the routine already, but loyalty was a curse sotis.

He stopped at their table, pulling out the small notepad he barely needed.

"What will you be having today?"

They ordered casually, pastries and lattes, the sa usual things.

Primrose sat at the edge of the booth, fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve, waiting for the right mont.

She always did this, waited until her friends finished talking so she wouldn’t be interrupted.

Lance could already tell she was going to ask him sothing.

Primrose was a junior business student, second year.

He hadn’t noticed her at first because there were too many girls crowding around.

It was only after she kept coming back that her face beca familiar.

She finally spoke up, her voice soft. "Lance, are you free in two days? It’s my birthday... I was hoping you could co. I can text you the address."

Lance sighed before he could stop himself.

He really didn’t want to dance around this anymore.

He leaned slightly closer so she could hear him properly. "Do you... like ?"

There was no point pretending she didn’t.

Primrose hesitated, then nodded, cheeks turning pink.

Lance sighed again, slower this ti. "I can’t co to your party. And I can’t accept your feelings. If I show up, it’ll look like I’m returning them."

Primrose’s brows pulled together, her voice dropping. "But you’re not dating anyone. Why can’t you give a chance? At least until I don’t have any left to give?"

Lance pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, thinking.

He didn’t want to be cruel.

And she deserved more than being avoided.

"Alright," he said quietly. "You’ll get your chances like you asked for. But don’t keep coming here and idling around. We need the seats for other custors."

He straightened up a little. "I’ll be back with your order shortly."

He left the table without waiting for her to respond, already heading toward the counter to grab the tray.

Henry t him halfway, eyebrows lifting. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," Lance said, adjusting the clips in his hair. "Just regular stuff."

Henry had been watching the hallway the whole ti, pretending to scroll through his phone while actually listening for Lance’s voice.

He’d seen the way Lance talked to Primrose earlier, soft, patient, smiling more than usual after delivering their als.

Henry hated it. Hated how easily she got those reactions out of him.

So the mont the girls started packing up and heading out, he pushed off the wall and stepped into Primrose’s path.

"Primrose? Got a second?"

He was still the polite senior everyone adored, his gentle tone, calm expression but the pressure in his gaze was sharp, territorial.

Primrose blinked, surprised but willing. "Uh... sure?"

Henry motioned toward the quieter corner near the bulletin board. The mont they were out of earshot, the friendly mask dropped.

Not entirely, Henry was too controlled for that but enough that Primrose felt the bite in his words.

"I’ll get straight to the point.." he said.

"Leave Lance alone."

Primrose stared at him. "...What?"

"You heard ." Henry’s arms crossed, his voice still steady and senior-like, but the sweetness was gone. "Stop trying to get close to him. Forget whatever you think is happening. And that birthday party? The one you invited him to? He won’t be going."

Her jaw tightened. "Why would you say sothing like that?"

"Because I’m not letting you get in the way."

He didn’t even hesitate.

Primrose stepped back slightly, thrown off. "Do you... like him or sothing?"

"Yes," Henry answered with zero hint of being embarrassed. "I do."

Primrose swallowed. "And you think that gives you the right to tell what to feel?"

Henry tilted his head, expression unreadable. "It gives the right to protect what’s mine."

Primrose’s eyes widened. "He’s not yours."

"He will be."

There was no anger in Henry’s voice, which only made it worse.

He was calm.

Certain.

A quiet, chilling confidence that he’d already decided how things would go.

Primrose forced herself to hold his gaze. "You don’t control him. And you don’t control . If Lance likes , that’s his choice."

Henry smiled, a tiny, polite curve that didn’t reach his eyes.

"That’s exactly why I’m warning you now. Walk away before you get disappointed."

Primrose’s heart thumped, equal parts fear and disbelief.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why do you think you get to decide that?"

Henry leaned forward slightly, voice low and terrifyingly soft.

"Because Lance listens to ."

’...’

Primrose hissed, he was even more troubleso than girls who liked the sa guy.

"Fuck, do whatever you like. Fucking bastard, I’ll give up on him but I know damn well, he still won’t end up with you. You think just because you chase all the competition, you’ll be the final option? Hah, keep playing.."

Henry’s jaw tightened as Primrose raised her two middle fingers, walking off.

Her friends asked her what happened and she said "You girls we’re right, Lance is really too much for , I deserve better.."