He Calls Forth the Better Feelings of my Heart

Dream Come True

In every direction, the world was dark. Nothing was in my sight apart from vast emptiness. It closed in around me, threatening with gnashing teeth to swallow me whole. I was horribly, entirely alone in a plane of sin. The wretched thing, the disease multiplied until I could scarcely think. Tragically, or perhaps deservedly, I was entirely alone in this expanse of corruption. At that moment I was certain I would drown in it, be pulled away from society by its sinister claws.

Spinning around, I searched desperately for an exit. My heart thrummed an odd rhythm that echoed all around me. Suddenly, I spotted it in the distance. A spot of light that pierced through the darkness like a candle. No, it was far brighter than that. It was the sun. From within that sun, a hand stretched out to me, tanned and freckled. It was an angel, here to pull me from the Hell I was trapped in.

Running swiftly towards it, I fought off the disease, the claws that grasped at my boots and begged me to stay. The angel stretched his hand out further, the sun burning a larger hole into the darkness. Finally, he was within reach, and my weak hand grasped tightly onto his. His touch was warm and strong, pulling my wretched, undeserving form into the light.
My eyes struggled to open, the dregs of sleep still clinging onto my eyelids. It was obvious that my head rested against something, but it certainly was not my pillow. It was warmer. The warmth wrapped itself around me like a quilt, across my chest and against my scalp. Perhaps I really was with the angel from my dreams, warm in the embrace of Heaven. I managed, after a bit of struggling, to force my eyes open and look upon his face.

Henry Clerval's face. What I had thought to be a warm blanket or an angel's embrace was simply his hands, the blinding, comforting sun merely being his amber gaze. It burned, just as the sun had, into my skin. The pieces of this wretched puzzle slowly began to fall into their places. I had awoken with my head so comfortably rested in Henry's lap, my body clutched firmly in his hands. Whatever calm the sweet dream had brought me was now coming to a grueling halt. My heart raced, gaze frantically flitting in every direction as I desperately forced myself to sit upright. Surprisingly, perhaps even disappointingly, there was no resistance from my dearest friend.

"Wh.. What are we- what were <em>you</em> doing?" I managed to snap, feigning the tiniest bit of anger I could manage. It was becoming impossible already to show faux disdain when all I truly desired was those warm arms around me again. "You.. you..."  You disgusting wretch. There was no world in which I could possibly voice such horrid words to someone as perfect as Henry. To myself, however, I would scream insults for the entire day.

Henry only took a deep breath, chest rising visibly under his clothing. His cheeks still held a faint pink blotchiness from his earlier tears. "Apologies for startling you, Victor, but I was not going to allow you to lie unconscious on the floor." His speech was quiet, almost cold. Whilst he spoke, he refused to break eye contact with me. I was frozen under his gaze. "However, we have been close for years. ...Surely you do not think I cannot tell when you are lying."

"Lying? To whom? About what?" My voice picked up a heavy dose of panic, one which I could not even hope to keep hidden. A million worries overwhelmed me. Did Henry truly see through me? Did he possess knowledge of my sins? And if Henry Clerval knew them, how could I possibly know whether or not the entire world knew as well?

Shoulders raising in a casual shrug, my friend spoke, "Lying to me, lying to yourself. The both of us, I believe. Now that I have moved past my panic, it is most clear that you are not truly angry with me. Truthfully, it could all be nothing but wishful thinking on my part. Perhaps you truly do resent me now, but that simply just is not you, my friend."