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Henry’s favorite pastime has always been people watching. Seeing people go about their days, totally engrossed in their own lives, uncaring what other people think of them. He imagines it’s quite freeing to be an anonymous person in the world, someone who can pass by a window without anyone taking notice. To go to the shops wearing whatever is comfortable, not what would look best on candid photos they won’t even realize were taken until hours later.
It’s a hobby he rarely is able to indulge in, being quite a recognizable public figure and all.
Henry has been to all the major capitals in Europe, many others throughout the world, and all he wishes is to be able to sit at a cafe with a cup of tea and a book and just…sit. Watch the world go by, sip his tea, maybe nibble on a biscuit. (No pap photos with the caption- ‘Is Prince Henry letting himself go?’ next to the latest pic of him shirtless at the beach, pudgy tummy highlighted.)
He wants to scribble his observations in a journal where he can create characters for all the stories living in his head. The world would be the source of his inspiration, and he would be able to explore all of it. Experience it all, with no one watching.
The few times he manages to watch people go about their lives (often from tinted car windows while stuck in London traffic) he is struck by the utter disregard for other people’s opinions. Not in a rude way, but in a free way. These people can wear what they want, eat what they want, even bloody skip down the sidewalk if they want. And no one pays any attention. If they do, it’s a brief glimpse and then everyone is back to looking at their phones.
A few weeks ago Henry had seen a man wearing brightly patterned pajamas and fuzzy slippers coming out of a Pret de Manger. He had a to go cup in one hand, some sort of wrap in the other. He had gotten a few odd looks, sure, but Henry doubted anyone (including himself) could pick that man out a lineup. That man was anonymous to the general public in a way Henry could only dream of.
Today he sits in the Royal Private Box at Wimbledon. Spectators are still trickling in and he hasn’t been spotted. Yet. He lets his gaze wander across the crowd, indulging in the fact that no one knows what he’s doing.
He spots a young woman a few rows down from the box, dark hair plaited into a long braid down her back. She’s wearing a jumpsuit of deep purple, almost black, and Henry has the sudden vision of one of the supporting characters in his latest novel. He reaches down to pull out his phone, an idea shaping in his head he needs to write in the notes app.
As he moves, his gaze is caught by a man standing next to the dark haired woman. He has the same color hair, tamed in artful waves. He’s wearing a blazer of blue and green and as Henry drags his eyes back up to his face, he notices that the man is staring right at him.
Henry immediately ducks his head, but peeks through his lashes a moment later. The man is still staring at him, a soft smile on his face Henry can pick out even at a distance. The man’s smile widens when he catches Henry looking, and he winks before turning back to the woman beside him.
Henry is frozen. He never gets caught people watching (probably due to the fact he rarely has the chance to partake in the activity) and he’s rattled. The fact that the man was objectively gorgeous doesn’t help.
Shaan leans over to him and whispers something about the first match. Henry nods absently, not having heard a single word.
His eyes keep straying back to the man with the beautiful smile. The man doesn’t turn back to look at him even once, and Henry watches with a stomach swirling with jealousy as the man whispers to the woman beside him. Henry sees her laugh, sees her shrug, but when he sees her poke and pinch him in the side, he’s suddenly reminded of Bea. He watches anxiously, and, yeah, they behave together just like him and Bea. He relaxes a bit in his seat, though he’s not sure why. He’s never going to see this man again. Well, not in real life. He’s going to be appearing in his dreams for a long while, Henry thinks.
The time not spent watching the man and his sister is spent with cursory glances at the matches below, and curious glances around the crowd. Everyone’s eyes and cameras are on the players, no one cares what Prince Henry is looking at.
He keeps himself entertained and when Shaan prompts him to stand and applaud, he does so without knowing quite how much time has passed.
For security measures, Henry and his entourage wait in the box until most of the stadium clears out. He walks with Shaan down the back stairs, knowing they’re surrounded by security even if he can’t see them. He poses for the requisite photographs, shakes the necessary hands, and longs for the privacy of the car at the end of the drive.
He’s approaching the vehicle (where he can drop his mask at least a little bit) when he hears a voice behind him.
“Did you see that girl with her finger up her nose? She must have wiped so many boogers all over that seat.”
Henry huffs a laugh as he keeps walking. He’s not sure who is being spoken to, but he did see that girl. She had been sitting in a nice dress with her family, but had spent most of the time with her fingers up her nose, then wiping the residue on the seat beneath her. Her parents hadn’t noticed until she had done it about a dozen times, frantically handing her a tissue and whispering furiously in her ear once they realized what was happening.
“I bet she’s getting a time out when she gets home. Her dad looked so mad.”
Henry turns, finally realizing the voice is speaking to him.
“I would say so. His face was so red, I think he was properly embarrassed.”
The man with the beautiful smile stands before him, an even more beautiful grin on his face. “Serves him right for paying more attention to a tennis game than his daughter.”
Henry’s lips twitch. “This is all speculation of course, we have no way of knowing their relationship to each other.”
“Oh, yes of course. Observation can only get you so far.” The man extends a hand. “I’m Alex, by the way.”
Henry can see Shaan visibly tensing next to him but since the prince doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, he stays where he is.
Henry smiles widely. He knows it looks genuine, gummy and eye-crinkling. Not a smile seen in magazines, one like the ones he had in pictures with his dad.
“Henry.” He shakes the man’s hand firmly and is oddly reluctant to let it go.
The two men stare at each other for a moment, just smiling. Shaan finally leans in and says “Your Royal Highness, we must go.”
“Oh, yes.” Henry bites his lip and glances at Alex before looking back to his equerry. “Could you get this man’s contact information? And maybe set up a time to meet later?” He catches Alex’s eyes. “If that’s ok with you, of course. Your sister is welcome as well.”
Alex grins. “My sister, huh? I thought observation could only lead to speculation.”
Henry shrugs, eyes twinkling. “Speculation, yes. But also a very fervent hope.”
“That or you’re a stalker,” Alex says.
Henry opens his mouth to protest but Alex snorts. “Just kidding, your Majesty. I know you’re merely an avid people watcher. I’m the same.” He looks straight at Henry when he says, “And someone who is also fervently hoping.”
Henry struggles to make his tongue work in his suddenly dry mouth. “Yes, well. It was nice to meet you. I look forward to seeing you soon.”
“Likewise.” Alex winks at him before turning to Shaan to exchange contact information.
Henry eases himself into the padded backseat of the car, a wide smile overtaking his face. Years of clandestine glances at others and someone finally looked back at him. It’s only speculation, of course, but Henry thinks he’s just met his soulmate.