Love is a Language

Thunderstorm

Pierre and Henry managed to incorporate lessons into pretty much every activity they did together. They had learned quite a few new words, and had moved on to very simple phrases. Henry thought the way Pierre said English words was kind of pretty, even if Pierre seemed kind of embarrassed about his pronunciation. Henry didn't think he had any room to complain though. He always felt that he said French words terribly, making the words sound flat and not as pretty as when Pierre said it. Pierre, on the other hand, thought that Henry was absolutely adorable when he tried to copy him and made sure to reward him with hugs whenever the younger boy looked sad about how he said something.

Miss Trelawny found herself lingering to listen to the lessons whenever she caught the two children sitting alone by themselves. Pierre seemed to be a very patient teacher, and Henry was always willing to reward his new friend with big hugs to show how proud he was of him. There would occasionally be times where she heard Henry on the brink of tears because he was so frustrated that he could say the words as well as Pierre could. But every time she started to go calm him down, she found Pierre with his arms around the younger boy, murmuring gently in his ear to calm him down and reassure him he was doing well. She would often walk away after hearing Pierre gently go back over the last two or three words they learned to help Henry get his confidence back.

She had to admit, the two boys were good for each other. They had formed a curious, yet sweet bond with one another that extended outside of their impromptu lessons. Henry would usually tag along after Peter and John, or stay by himself and play his own imaginative little games. Now that Pierre had arrived though, it was very unlikely to see either of them without the other. Henry often trailed behind Pierre like his shadow, occasionally holding on to the back of his shirt so he could stay close to him. Sometimes she would catch Pierre removing Henry from his shirt only to slip his hand into his and lead him to wherever it was they were headed. Henry's cheeks would go slightly pinker, and he'd lean slightly against Pierre's arm.

Pierre, despite not having a complete grasp on English quite yet, was often the one to pull Henry into a game with a group of the children. He would keep Henry company when he was usually alone. She once found them curled up in a corner of the playroom looking at a picture book together. When she looked closer, she saw that they had entwined their hands and were leaning on each other as they read. But she couldn't always keep an eye on them, as much as she'd have loved to watch their growing friendship. Sometimes, the sweetest moments between them happened when she wasn't watching.

One night, a huge thunderstorm rolled in and wreaked havoc on the blackened sky. Henry was rudely awoken by a particularly loud crack of thunder that shook the entire orphanage to the very foundation. He grumbled sleepily and pulled his covers over his head. When that didn't block out the flash of lightning or the following thunderbolt, he yanked his pillow under the covers with him and pressed it over his ears. At first, he thought he'd succeeded in blocking out the sound. But when another loud BOOM reached his ears through the pillow, he sat up with a glare and raised his hand to throw his pillow up in the direction of the roof.

Suddenly, another noise caught his attention. It was soft, hardly noticeable, but he still heard it. It was coming from somewhere to his...right...maybe. He squinted, as if that would help him see better in the dark, in the direction that he had heard the sound. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the room, and for a brief moment he saw a quivering ball in Pierre's bed. He jumped when the thunder roared again, and this time he heard a terrified squeak come from that direction again. His stomach twisted uncomfortably-was Pierre the one making those noises? He slowly slipped out of bed, shivering a little as his bare feet made contact with the cold ground. Clutching his pillow to his body, he tiptoed over to Pierre's bed. The floor creaked as he walked, but he didn't really notice it.

"Pierre?" he whispered as he slowly made his approach. He could just barely make out the quivering heap under Pierre's sheets now that his eyes were adjusted to the dark. He reached out a tentative hand to tap his still form when the loudest peal of thunder so far shook the house again. This time Henry definitely heard the scared yelp coming from under the bedsheets, and the half-sob that followed it. Without thinking twice he clambered up onto his bed and tried pulling back the sheets. "Pierre, don't cry!" he whispered urgently, failing to tug the covers out of Pierre's iron grip. When he finally resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to win this battle, he sat cross-legged next to the quivering lump. "Don't cry, please?" he asked softly, nudging him a little with his foot.

Then, ever so slowly, Pierre peeked out from under the covers at him. His blue eyes were wide with fright, and he had tears running down his face. The only reason he'd actually come out was because he recognized the word 'please.' Henry gently reached out and gently wiped away one of Pierre's tears, smiling a little at him. "Don't be scared," he told the frightened boy, "it's just big noises." Pierre nodded a little, though he only understood 'big' out of the entire sentence. He slowly sat up, still holding his covers around him like a protective shield. "That's better," Henry said with a smile. "Do you-"

A blinding flash of lightning accompanied by what just became the loudest crack of thunder all night caught the boys off guard. Pierre let out a frightened wail and yanked Henry into his arms. He held onto the startled boy tightly, clutching him like he was drowning and Henry had become his life supporter. His tears started anew, soaking into the smaller boy's shirt. Henry squirmed a little to show his discomfort at Pierre's death grip and he slowly loosened up a bit. Pierre's shoulders shook with quiet sobs, and Henry felt his stomach do that sad twist again. He tugged on Pierre's sleeve, making the boy lift his head a little to look at him. Again, Henry wiped away the tears on Pierre's face. "Don't be sad, okay?" he murmured, trying to give him his best 'everything's alright' smile. "It'll be over tomorrow."

Pierre was quiet for a moment, listening for any other frightening disturbances from the sky. Then he slowly lay back down, drawing the covers around him again. Henry paused for only a moment before yanking back Pierre's sheets and laying down next to the surprised boy. He pulled the covers over both of them and snuggled closer to Pierre, still holding on to his pillow. He offered Pierre one of his hands, which he accepted gratefully. They interlocked their fingers and squeezed each other's hands to reassure the other that they were going to stay there all night long. They slowly drifted off to sleep, Pierre only twitching the slightest bit when the thunder made the occasional reappearance during the night. He wasn't as afraid now that Henry was with him. Henry was just glad that Pierre wasn't crying or scared anymore.

Miss Trelawny found them the next morning in the same position, holding each other's hands with Henry's pillow between them. If she would have looked a little closer, she would have seen the dried-up tears on Pierre's cheeks and the faint ghosts of smiles on both little boys' faces.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Author's Note:  I got this chapter done really early, and I had to restrain myself from posting it earlier than my goal.  The struggle is real, my dear readers.  My patience has been rewarded now, and here is the new chapter.  Hope you like it!