He Calls Forth the Better Feelings of my Heart

If I Could Control This I Would

The trek home was long and silent, the air around us filled with awkwardness like a heavy cloud of fog. I did not know until then that such an energy was possible whilst around my dearest friend. In any other circumstance, the air would have been warm, friendly. But the tension between us in that moment felt akin to the winter's icy grasp.

Finally, after a walk that felt as if it went on for hours, we arrived at home, being embraced by the warm fire that roared in the parlor's hearth. I, however, could only focus my attention upon Henry, upon his weary frame. Though my friend was considerably taller and broader than my own stature, in that moment it seemed as if he had shrunken down. Yet, even after witnessing his uneasy state, I demanded that my questions finally be answered.

"We are alone now, Clerval. I beg you, explain yourself." I quickly spoke, swallowing down the tinge of unease that dangled at the edge of my words. I stood still in the doorway, arms crossed comfortably against my chest. The stuffy, uneasy energy that hung around us suffocated me, my cravat feeling far too tight and the room feeling far too small. I could feel my heart thrumming inside of my chest, beating with a nervous, curious agony.

Henry had moved into the parlor, seating himself upon the grand sofa. Though he normally would have conducted himself with that handsome confidence I had come to love far too much, he presently appeared nervous, holding a shred of anxiety in his slightly too stiff posture. His hazel eyes reflected the light of the fire as they met my gaze, a distinct wetness glazed over them. "Victor... I think I would prefer it if you sat down. I know you far too well, I do not want to risk you collapsing the moment you hear my tale," he managed to joke even in the serious, unsteady atmosphere.

I, not wanting to prolong this confusing discussion any longer, obeyed and seated myself on the opposite end of the sofa, my fingers knotting together to keep myself calm. "That is not reassuring, Henry..." I muttered, unsure whether my own statement was light-hearted or gravely serious. Potentially a mixture of the two, if such a thing were possible. "Get on with it, please," I quickly added, in the moment not realizing the harshness of my words.

Henry simply nodded at my demand, staring off into the distance as he began to speak. "I tell the truth. I did not mention being in love with a woman, nor have I ever mentioned loving a woman. ...Do you remember, Victor, the many girls who attempted to gain my affections when we were in school?" Henry momentarily looked up to me, hesitation lacing his movements, to which I simply responded with a stiff nod of my head. I vividly remembered the young girls we knew at the time, the ones who had fawned over my dear Henry as if he were an adorable pet.
"Then, do you remember how I rejected each one of them?" Henry continued, to which I responded with yet another nod. As Henry moved closer and closer to the point of his speech, the point which I still could not predict, his words became more and more uneasy, more wavering in their tone. Henry's words, usually akin to pure poetry, were as fragile and wavering as a leaf in the breeze. "Victor, I have never in my life felt an attraction to any woman. In prior years, I... I worried that something was deeply broken within me. However, I soon realized the reason I had not felt romantically towards them..."

Henry paused his speech for a moment, taking in a horrid, shaking breath. The room was silent and heavy, the only sounds from our own breathing and the crackling of the hearth. For a reason unknown to me, I realized suddenly that I had been holding my breath, and subsequently let it out. To my surprise, my own breath was as horrid and shaking as Henry's.

In the next moment my dearest friend was looking at me. His gaze, filled to the brim with tears, was held just under my eyes. Before that moment, I had never once seen my friend hesitate to make eye contact. He seemed to struggle for words for a moment, throat moving gently but no sound escaping. When Clerval finally forced out his horrid confession, it was uttered in a whisper, just as a tear fell from his gorgeous eyes.