I knocked on the door of the King residence, still in shock that a house like this actually existed in real life.

The door opened and there stood Mr. King, glasses perched on his nose. "Hi, Cordelia."

"Hi," I greeted, and he warmly invited me in.

"I'm assuming you're here for Henry?"

"How'd you guess?" I giggled, holding up the bag of food.

He tapped his temple with his pointer finger, grinning as he walked into his office. I jogged upstairs and down the long hallway, stopping at Henry's closed door.

I tried to open it as quietly as I could, peeking inside. I saw him sprawled out, his forearm resting on his forehead. I stepped inside his room and closed the door, gently placing the bag of food on his nightstand.

I sat on the edge of his bed, smiling down at his sleeping face. His mouth was slightly open, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth.

His eyes slowly fluttered open, and as soon as he saw me, he smiled. "Hey, baby."

My stomach did a somersault. I'd never heard Henry's morning voice, not even once in the past year of dating.

"H-hi," I said, caught off guard by the feeling I was currently experiencing.

He let out what sounded like a groan, wrapping his arms around me. "Good morning."

"G-good morning," I stumbled out, raking my fingers through his hair.

He pulled me in bed with him, pulling my body towards his front. I parted my lips when I felt something poking at my backside, and I knew exactly what it was.

"U-uh, Henry, you've got a problem," I said, looking back at him.

"Every morning," he muttered, "you were pleasant to wake up to."

I bit down on my lip. I wasn't sure what was more, honestly, tempting- his morning voice, or the feeling of him hard against me.

"I-uh-I brought you breakfast."

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at me. "Yeah, and what is it?"

I could hear the suggestive tone behind his words, making me just gawk up at him. He looked disheveled, his hair a mess and his eyes still sleepy, but somehow, the most attractive I'd ever seen him.

"A bagel," I softly said, blinking a few times to hopefully pull myself out of the scenario I'd put myself into.

"Mm," he muttered, looking down at me.

I patted his back, rolling out from under him. I stood up and smiled awkwardly, standing between his bed and wall.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he let out another half-groan, half-sigh.

"Thank you for breakfast," he said, standing up.

My jaw nearly unhinged when he stood, making me place a hand over my eyes after a few seconds of obvious staring.

He chuckled and again, set off the butterflies in my stomach. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close, his lips against my ear.

"Eight."

I knitted my brows together and watched as he walked into his bathroom, tilting my head over. "Eight?"

"Yeah," he said, "you think about it and get back to me."

He quickly did his business, brushed his teeth and combed his fingers through his hair. He walked back into his bedroom, smiling up at me as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"It takes eight minutes for it to go away?" I asked.

He grabbed the bag of food, smiling up at me as he shook his head. He bit into his bagel, taking a huge chunk out of it.

I shrugged. "I'm out."

"Eight inches," he said, taking a long sip of his water.

"Eight inches of what?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

He smiled, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Nothing, babe."

I admired his body for a few seconds. I wasn't even really sure how, I, the theatre nerd, had gotten Henry King. In the middle of my thought, I snapped out of it and realized what he'd meant.

"Oh."

He looked up at me, chuckling. "I was waiting to see how long it'd take."

"Eight?" I repeated, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yup," he said, "don't act so surprised."

I laughed, shaking my head. "N-no, that's not it. I just didn't expect you to flat out tell me."

He shrugged. "What do I have to lose?"

I laughed and sat next to him, unable to stop my mind from wandering about Henry King.

~*~

"Hero, you're wearing me out," Mrs. Thompson said, looking up at me from over the rim of her glasses.

You wish, I thought, but just knelt down next to her.

"I don't understand this one. Seriously."

She grabbed my pencil, pointing at the question. "We did this in class today."

"Didn't understand while we were doing it in class, either."

Henry had his head cocked over, annoyed eyes.

"I actually don't get this one," I mouthed, shrugging.

"Just leave it," Mrs. Thompson said, obviously defeated, "we'll go over it again in class tomorrow."

"Thanks," I said, my tone clipped as I stood.

The door opened, and Amelia walked in. I grinned at her, making her smile and look down.

"These are from the copier," she said.

"Hey," I greeted, my hand on her hip as I brushed past her and back to my desk.

"Hi," she said, her free hand on my bicep.

I sat down, smiling up at Amelia. She and Mrs. Thompson had a short conversation before she turned around to look at me.

"You're coming home with me today-"

"Hero," Mrs. Thompson said, nodding down at my packet.

I looked at her, lifting an eyebrow.

Amelia nodded. "Yeah."

She walked out of the room, Mrs. Thompson's eyes following her. She shot me a quick glance before looking at her computer screen.

A few more minutes of complete silence, the bell rang, and I was the first one to stand. I grabbed my bag and was fully ready to bolt before Mrs. Thompson stopped me.

"I need to speak with you," she said, nodding.

Henry stopped at my desk. "You coming?"

"In the doghouse," I said, smiling up at him.

He and Cordelia walked out, leaving just Mrs. Thompson and I in the room after long enough.

"Why am I in trouble?" I asked, leaning back in my seat.

"You can't just flat out talk about who you're taking home in the middle of class."

I knitted my brows together, folding my arms over my chest. "It was a private conversation."

"In class," she said, tilting her head over.

I trailed my eyes down her body, not even attempting to subtly do so. I took my time in making my way back to her eyes, lifting an eyebrow when I got there.

"Next time it's after school suspension."

"Say that acronym?"

"Hero."

I chuckled and stood up, only a few inches away from her. "Okay. I'll keep my sexual conversations out of your class."

She looked up at me, nodding towards the door. "Go."

"You're mad at me."

"I'm being your teacher," she said, gathering her things from her desk.

"Well-"

"Hero, please, just go," she said, still rummaging through her desk, her voice breaking.

I knitted my brows together, taking a few steps towards her.

She stood upright, wiping off her hands on her jeans as she sniffled. "Go."

I nodded, shooting her one last glance before walking out into the hallway.

"Ready?" Amelia asked, grabbing my hand.

I pulled my hand away from her, shooting her a warning glance. She folded her arms over her chest and bit down on her lip.

Feeling guilty, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Are you ready for me to fuck you?"

She smiled up at me. "Of course."

~*~

I swept my paint brush across my canvas, taking a few subtle glances at Hero from across the living room.

He was sprawled out on the couch, his headphones around his neck as he scrolled through something on his phone.

He'd been in this exact position for about two hours now- I saw an opportunity to paint him, so I did. I was currently making my final touches.

"Hey, Dad?" He yelled, sitting upright.

"You're kidding," I muttered, watching as he stood up.

He shot me a smile. "Hey, Frannie."

I grabbed my canvas from my easel, turning it around to show him.

"Wow," he said, lifting his eyebrows, "am I really that slim, or were you just flattering me?"

I smiled and stood up. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," he said, scratching the top of my head, "thanks, Frannie."

I nodded, following him into the kitchen. Dad looked over at us, holding out his arms. "My babies."

"Gross," Hero said.

"What are you making?" I asked, peeking over the island at whatever was concocting on the stove.

"I tried to make vegan chili for your mom."

I bit down on my lip with a smile. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the effort."

He gave the pot of soup a questionable glance, nodding. "Yeah."

"Fran painted me," Hero proudly said.

Dad nodded, a smile on his face. "Yeah? Did she put horns on you, or?"

"Funny," he said, "no, it was really cool."

"Horns can be cool," Dad shrugged, wiping off his hands on his apron.

"Hey, everyone."

"Mom," Hero said, running over to the door.

It was obvious- Hero was the definition of a mama's boy. She lit up his entire world.

"Hi, sweetheart," she greeted, "ooh, what's cooking?"

"Vegan chili," Dad said, "does it smell alright?"

"It smells wonderful," she said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, "Fran, come here. I bought you some stuff."

"What about your favorite?" Hero asked.

"Didn't think you'd be interested in anything from Victoria's Secret."

Dad spun around. "Victoria's Secret?"

I frowned, rolling my eyes.

"It's just a cute pajama set and some perfume," Mom said, "relax."

He was muttering something to himself, stirring his chili around.

There came a knock on the door, making Hero bolt over to it. "There's no telling who that is."

He opened the door and I peeked around the corner, seeing Josie.

"Jo?" I asked, biting down on my lip.

"Hey," she softly said.

"Hey, little Jo," Dad greeted, "what's up?"

"I didn't want to be at home," she truthfully admitted. I watched her walk in, sighing at her.

Josephine King was, honestly, infamous. Her confidence, her beauty, her grades, her popularity. Every guy wanted her, and every girl was jealous of her. Yet, she still, somehow, had no clue.

Hero wrapped an arm around her neck. "Henny pissed you off?"

"No, Mom and Dad. It's so tense with the separation."

Dad lifted an eyebrow. "Huh?"

She looked to Dad, knitting her brows together. "Huh?"

"What did you say?" He asked.

"Mom and Dad, they're separating," Josie deadpanned, as if it was a known fact.

Mom bit down on her lip, looking up at Dad.

"Why didn't he tell me?" He asked, shaking his head.

"I don't know, they're both having a hard time admitting it because it's not even supposed to happen."

Mom held up her finger. "Lex mentioned it to me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dad softly asked, looking back at her, "he doesn't need to go through it alone."

Josie smiled over at me, shrugging. "Wanna have a sleepover? I'll do your hair and makeup."

She pulled me close, smiling at me. "And we can text Dylan."

I smiled, nodding. "That sounds great."

~*~

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