He Calls Forth the Better Feelings of my Heart

Love and Madness

After many minutes of waiting in immense discomfort, my dearest friend still had not returned to my bedside. Henry had only gone to put away the dishes, and yet he had not returned thus far. I was quickly becoming consumed with worry for my dear friend, and promptly threw my blankets aside as I forced myself out of the bed. My head, throbbing with ache, protested with every step I took. Still yet, I persisted towards the kitchen, feet padding along the wooden floors. Henry's departure from my bedroom had left an utterly uncomfortable feeling in its wake, something deep inside of me knew something was wrong with my dearest friend.

Rounding a corner placed me in the doorway of my lovely home's kitchen. And there, back facing me, was Clerval. He bent over the sink, hands clasping the edges of the porcelain basin. A small convulsion was coming from his broad shoulders, accompanied by a quiet heavy breathing and the most heartbreaking sobs I had ever heard. My dearest, most beloved Henry was, for a reason unknown to me, crying. It was clear that he wished to keep it secret, the sounds quiet and repressed. The sight nearly split my aching heart in two, instantly making my mind burn with hatred for whoever or whatever could have possibly caused this emotion within him.

Just as I took one more step into the kitchen, a floorboard creaked under my movements. Henry's body tensed, whipping around to face me so quickly that I feared he could have broken his spine. His eyes were wide, round and scared. Their usual delectable honey-golden color was slightly obscured by the candlelight, though I sensed a fear in them that I had never before seen in my dear friend. It was reminiscent of a prey animal staring into the watchful eyes of its predator.

"Victor!" Clerval gasped, his voice so shocked that even someone like myself could decipher its tone. A tear fell from his eyes, glistening against his tanned skin in the candlelight. His hand swiftly moved up to wipe it away, but no amount of wiping tears could hide the redness that had come to his features, the dull sadness in his gaze. "Y-You should surely be resting!"

Without even a moment of analytical thought, I rushed forward as quickly as my weakened body would allow, meeting Henry at the sink. I placed a hand atop his shoulder, mimicking the comforting gestures he had so graciously given to me throughout the years. "My legs are perfectly functional, dear Henry. I do not need rest more than you need reassurance."

I felt brave, then, braver than I ever had in his presence. Looking into my dearest friend's eyes, I tried to ascertain the reasons for the emotions trapped behind them. His eyes only reflected fear, terror, and an overcast of sadness like cloudy skies. It pained me to even see him in this state. "Henry, why are you crying..? Have I burdened you so much with my illness?" That possibility struck me all too hard, and pained my heart. My dear Clerval had never once acted as if I burdened him, he had always taken care of me with the utmost respect and kindness. If I had been burdening him, then he was hiding it exceptionally well.

Surprisingly, the sound that escaped my dear friend was reminiscent of a chuckle. It was burdened by a sob, mixing into an odd and discordant sound of laughter and sadness. "No, Victor... you are unable to burden me. After all these years, you should surely know that..." Henry's voice was soft and broken, raspy assumedly from crying. I thought of offering to make him tea, though I knew he would decline. Henry did not like it when I was to do anything whilst ill.

"Victor, I... I am not sure that I can speak my reason for crying aloud," Henry continued, his solemn face searching my own with a melancholy gaze. Gently, he outstretched his arm and took my own, beginning to lead me out of the kitchen. "Nevermind that, alright? You require rest, we need to get you back into bed-" Already, my friend was ushering me towards my bedroom, so quickly having changed the subject from himself to me.

"Henry, no-" I quickly protested, my body pivoting back around to face him. A throb of headache ripped through my skull, and I swiftly raised my hand to my crown with a soft groan. No matter, my beloved friend was far more important than a mere headache. I could not possibly rest until I discovered what had made the man I loved so dearly upset. "-I... I would much rather sit on the sofa in the parlor. Accompanied by you, of course."