He Calls Forth the Better Feelings of my Heart

Chapter 7: Hippolitus

"Hello, Victor..." Elizabeth's voice rang out, cautious and meek. She obtained an expression of worry, the cold night's air turning her nose pink. Her gaze cut through my turmoil as if it were a dagger, searching within me to find the answers to my misery.

My gaze briefly flitted away from her, to the snow-covered and half-dead garden. I could scarcely make eye contact, far less than even the measly amount I could usually muster. "Forgive me, Elizabeth, for my sudden departure," I spoke, voice producing a quiver. "I simply needed a moment alone. Everything is fine, I assure you." Everything, in fact, was not fine in the slightest. However, I was more than willing to lie about my well-being for the sake of my loved ones.

"Victor, I have known you since we were children. You and I are siblings," Elizabeth retorted, her concerned gaze softening lightly. "When your turmoil is so explicit, it is impossible to ignore. I know that something troubles you, and you are safe to confide in me." I had never hidden my emotions well, and in such a time where my mind was fighting against me in a brutal war, it was impossible to even try. In another breath, she added, "...Is it about our terminated wedding, Victor?"

I should have known better than to lie to my dear sister. It was true, she and I had grown together. Though Elizabeth was not nearly as perceptive as my dear Henry (and, even the thought of him then struck a pang in my chest,) she was not oblivious to my misery. I ran a thin hand through my disheveled hair. "No... no, not that." Turning away, I leaned against the balcony railing and looked over the expansive garden. "Elizabeth, I... I cannot possibly discern what is happening to me. I have devoted my life to the sciences, to understanding, and yet the human mind escapes me. Even my own..."

Elizabeth stepped next to me, her arms resting in a crossed position on the railing. She did not look to me, staring instead at the garden. An intense expression crossed her face, as if she were thinking. "Victor, you must tell me the reason for your anxiety. I cannot help unless I know." She finally looked to me, an expression of almost pity on her face.

Breathing in, I attempted to find a place to begin. The night had been long, and my mind had only muddled it. The details of things that happened moments earlier were blurred in my memories. "I have always revered Henry, you know this. He has been the best friend my entire life, and I have persistently desired to be around him. And yet... in recent months, this desire seems to have tripled, if not more. My dearest Clerval seems to be the only thing that can calm me, reassure me. Being around him feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest."

Pausing for a moment, I adjusted my spectacles. Instantly, the action stabbed me with the memory of Henry fixing my glasses. The resulting emotions poured out of the wound like blood, my cheeks instantly feeling warmer despite the cold air. Even out of his range, Clerval still affected me.

I continued. "As if that were not odd enough, tonight he only seems to be the cause of my anxieties. Every time we touch, even something as simple as a mere brush of the hand, I feel as if electricity is pulsing throughout me. I can hardly focus in his presence tonight." I took a breath, groaning softly in my turmoil. Even speaking about Henry conjured up these complex and unknown feelings. "And when I attempted to draw away, do you know what happened? I was pulled back, as if I were a moth and Henry were my flame. I feel as if my heart is aching, Elizabeth. Perhaps it is a heart attack, then."

Then, I shook my head. Nothing like this could possibly be a heart attack. It was a devastating emotion, yes, but it was also wondrous. "No, perhaps not. Are there positive heart attacks, I wonder? For all the anxiety and strain this unknown emotion has put upon me, I also feel a sense of lightness, like a feather. For every moment of horrid misery, there is a buried feeling of wondrous, unbelievable happiness." Finally, I elected to pause my rambling. Nervously, I moved my gaze to meet Elizabeth's. "What could cause such a feeling, Elizabeth? I fear I am simply a broken man."