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It seemed strange to me that, although I was sitting in front of an alight fireplace, the entity in the room which burned far stronger was the anger which engulfed my friend.
I would be leaving for Ingolstadt by morning. Although I was overcome by excitement to further pursue my studies, and although I had anticipated how difficult it would be to leave my friend's and family behind, I had not quite expected my last day to be so melancholy. My family were all overjoyed that I had been given the opportunity to advance in my field, however I was also conscious of the fact that they believed a hole would be left in the family without my presence. With my mother gone, and myself leaving now, it seemed the family was only decreasing by the day. Though, in my case, I would eventually return.
My father had reaffirmed his consistent encouragement throughout the day, though I could tell that there was a sadness in his heart caused by my coming departure. Elizabeth had been relatively quiet. I could tell that her silence came from a place of sadness, rather than coldness. And I returned her feelings. Since my childhood, I had spent every day with Elizabeth. I loved her as if she were my sister and I would be painfully aware of her absence whilst overseas.
That was my only regret surrounding leaving. I would be thrust away from those I cared about most - forced instead to mingle with people whom I do not know.
The other students in my college would no doubt share my interests, however, I strongly doubted that any could match me in passion.
Alas, in my few years, I had only known one individual to meet me on that level.
What made leaving all the more damaging to my spirit was that he would not be accompanying me, as we had both envisioned.
My beloved Clerval: remaining in Geneva through no fault of his own, whilst I went on; likely not to return for some years. We had spent all day by one anothers side and throughout all of it, I had struggled to forget the fact.
I could tell that it was weighing on Clerval greatly. After explaining to me how his father had condemned the idea of him attending university, he had been somewhat quiet. Though, unlike Elizabeth, I could tell that this silence did not come purely from a place of sadness. He was frustrated. Frustrated with his father and frustrated with himself for being unable to convince him. As the day went by, as the deadline to my departure grew ever closer, this frustration burned into anger.
As I sat, cross legged by the fire, I listened to the sound of Clerval pacing behind me. He had been doing so for the past hour and had not ceased for a moment. For that hour, I had been listening to nothing but his footsteps, which somehow came off as irate on their own. I could practically hear the thoughts burning in his head. The emptiness of the room only exasperated his volume; especially considering everyone else had long since gone to bed.
I had been unwilling to sleep whilst Clerval was still here, and Clerval was unwilling to leave. So that left only us.
Eventually, I turned my head to face the other man. "Clerval, would you stop that?" I asked him firmly. "You are going to wear out the rug if you keep this up much longer. Come and sit down." I patted the space next to me.
When I looked at him now, for what must have been the first time in the past half hour, I realised that his hair was down. He must have untied it whilst I wasn't looking. I so rarely saw my friend without his ponytail that it struck me whenever that was the case. His auburn hair fell below his shoulders like a sea of fire.
Clerval stopped in his tracks and looked at me. There was a frown, which looked unfamiliar and rather out of place against his features, plastered on his face. After a few moment's silence, he sighed and walked over to me. "Alright." He took his place next to me and stared at the fire. I couldn't help but stop and admire the way that the light danced against his face.
I frowned. It truly did pain me to see my Dear friend in such a foreign, unhappy state, so miserable over circumstances of which he could not control. "I am terribly sorry about all of this." I said gently, hoping to console him.
His expression was relatively blank, which may have been worse than the frustration I'd seen in it previously. "It's not your fault, Victor. You have no reason to apologise." I could tell that he was being sincere, but it was spoken in such an apathetic way that I couldn't help but feel unnerved.
I was going to clarify my meaning, but he continued. "My father has always been so blind to my passions. He cares not that I have no interest, nor skill in regards to commerce. He believes that- that simply because literature has little tangible impact, it is worthless. I resent that, Victor. It is so narrow minded, so… so ignorant, but he refuses to listen."
I watched as he spilled the thoughts which had no doubt been plaguing his mind this whole day. He stared down at his hands, looking almost relieved to finally have said it. I felt so lost on what to say. I knew so little of his father, who he usually seldom mentioned, so I knew not what could be said to sway him. Even if I did, it was too late for it.
Clerval groaned at himself and cupped his face in his hands, his hair falling forward and hiding his features. I regarded him for a few moments before moving my hand to caress his back. His shoulder blades, which briefly felt tense, relaxed at my contact. Though he did not look up from his palms, Clerval leaned against me.
"I detest his narrow mind, Victor." Clerval eventually spoke again. "He sees only one path for me. He intends for me to become a merchant, as he did." He said the last part of the phrase with a sense of curtness. "I do not wish to trivialise his work, I understand its importance, of course. Something which he is not willing to do in my favour, but it is not an occupation I have any desire to pursue."
"Then you do not have to." I said to him softly.
Clerval then moved his face from his hands. However, when I looked at him, his countenance was devoid of good humour. "Victor, my father has made it my sole purpose in life to follow in his path and continue his business, for I am his only child. He has belittled my passions ever since I developed them, as he believes they are leading me only to a path of destruction. I feel trapped. And I feel I am at risk of losing his respect, or even his love if I attempt to escape from it. Your father has always supported you. After all, he allowed and encouraged you to pursue your studies. That is something that my own father cannot say for himself. With all due respect, you cannot understand my situation. It is not as simple as you seem to think it is." He turned his head to look back at the fire.
I pursed my lips, frustrated at myself for how ignorant I must have sounded. "I…" finding myself lost for words, I trailed off and resorted to continuing to stroke his back.
We were quiet for a while before Henry broke the silence with a sigh. "My apologies, dear friend. I know that you are only trying to help." He paused and pressed the palms of his hands to his eyelids. "I have no intention of following through with his plans for me. I simply worry about the ramifications." He looked at his hands again. "I only wish that I could go with you… I want to write, Victor. In the same vein as so many before me. I wish to improve, to become so much greater than what I am now. My father is doing nothing but hindering me."
"Henry…" My gaze also made its way to my friend's hands. "Would you like to know what I think?" I then looked up at his face, hoping for him to do the same in turn.
Thankfully, he returned my gaze and looked me in the eyes. After some long moments of silence, he spoke: "Go on, then. Indulge me." A familiar humorous glint flickered in his eye, and I felt warmth at the sight of some lightness returning to him.
"I think that you have a gift, Henry." I started. My other hand moved to cup his, so that it became enclosed. "Forgive me, for I am not one to give literary critique, as you know, but the way I see it, you are wonderful. You have always, somehow, found a way to enamour me in your words. Myself, as well as all of those around you who are willing to listen. I see no reason why not attending university should hinder this. I fully believe that you will flourish regardless. You always have."
It was difficult to notice under the dim light, but I could have sworn that I saw colour forming on Clerval's cheeks. "I… ah," He went quiet again and put a hand on his face. I couldn't help but smile at this. Henry, who always spoke so confidently and eloquently, was lost for words. Eventually, he chuckled. "I am flattered by your confidence in me. Though, I can't help but believe that I would flourish more if I went with you."
"Nonsense." I waved my hand dismissively. "You wish to be like writers before you? Why, Clerval! How many of them do you think went to university? Shakespeare? The ancient Greeks… erm…" I tried to think of an example, but their names temporarily escaped my mind. "Homer? Do you think he attended a university?"
I felt relieved when a laugh escaped my friend's lips. "Victor, what on Earth would you know about Shakespeare?" He nudged me lightly.
"Only what you have told me." I returned his laughter and nudged him back. "My point is, you do not need university in order to become greater than you are now, just as many of the greats before you did not." I smiled at him. "I have no doubt in you reaching their calibre, or even far greater."
Clerval smiled at me and rolled his eyes. "I suppose I must concede that you have a point. Though, I think that you are horribly overestimating my abilities."
"I do not think so." I said adamantly. I looked up to the ceiling in a mock wistfulness. "I can picture it - long after you are gone, Henry, ambitious minds such as yourself will remember you as a poet - a craftsman - a revolutionary -"
Clerval was laughing again. "Oh, do be quiet, my Dear Victor. I cannot sit here and listen to this."
I chuckled and continued, if only to tease him. "An inspiration to future generations and beyond! -"
Before I could get another word out, Clerval slapped a hand over my mouth. "Hush yourself!" He laughed.
"Mmf-" I grabbed his wrist and leaned backwards to pry his hand away from my face. "You have never been one to reject compliments, Clerval!"
"You have never been one to offer them! At least not like this." He withdrew his arm back to his chest, causing me to come forward, as my hand was still tightly grasping his wrists. Our foreheads then came together. We were both surprised by the contact, although neither made an effort to move.
I, keeping my head against his, looked instead to his chest, where both of our hands were now pressed. "I praise only those who are worthy of it. And, Henry, I believe there to be no one more worthy than yourself."
"Oh, you flatter me." Henry said quietly. Our foreheads remained together. Slowly, I felt Henry's arms move as he rested his hands on my hips. My breath hitched, head drawing backwards slightly from surprise.
Henry noticed this and withdrew. "My apologies- I wasn't sure where to put my hands."
I instantly began to long for the contact which I had felt so briefly and became eager to have it return, though I was unsure of how to express this. "Oh- no, I was surprised, that's all." I cleared my throat and attempted to compose myself, though I was sorely aware of the heat growing on my cheeks. I attempted to rationalise this as the warmth coming from the fireplace.
Clerval, ever conscious of the emotions of those around him, particularly myself, regarded me for a few long moments. Taking in my countenance, he recognised what I was silently asking of him and returned his hands to where they had been, though his movement was more tentative.
We looked at one another for a while longer before, as if it were nothing more than natural progression, our heads came forward in unison and our foreheads pressed together once more.
Both of us seemed at a loss of what to say, so we remained quiet. I closed my eyes, feeling pleased that my friend seemed to be in at least somewhat brighter spirits. I truly believed what I had told him; nothing would dissuade me from believing that he could become one of the most esteemed writers of our times, disregarding any need for a higher education. I smiled at this thought and closed my eyes.
"It isn't just the university." Clerval said quietly, breaking the prolonged silence.
"Hm?" My eyes opened again and I frowned at him, asking him to elaborate.
As if realising that our faces were far too close together to hold a coherent conversation, Clerval separated our heads again. He was still smiling, although now there was an added melancholy in his expression. "Victor… It is not just the lack of an education which worries me. I fear that… after so long, after our lives have been intertwined, ever since childhood, that we do not know how to exist independently from one another."
I furrowed my eyebrows at him, expressing my confusion. Neglecting to respond, I looked to my side and gently grasped one of his hands.
"What I mean to say… is that I shall miss you." Henry looked at me with his rounded, soulful blue gaze and I had to extenuate in order to not come undone by it.
"Oh, Henry… I crooned quietly. "You will be alright." I assured him. This time, it was I who cupped my friend's cheek with my palm, inhaling sharply when he leaned into my touch and relaxed.
"Of course. Though, I feel that there will be a horrid gap left in my days through your absence. I know not of another man so skilled and so passionate as you. I have always believed you to be especially unique in that way." He smiled at me. "Your passion is something I have little hope of finding anywhere else. The greatest poets could only dream of it."
"I could say the same for yourself… though I will no doubt find myself among like-minded individuals in Ingolstadt, I believe I shall have no luck in finding anyone of the same distinction as you, my Dearest Henry." I said quietly, brushing my thumb against his cheek and silently revelling in how warm it felt to the touch.
Henry moved his other hand, lightly pressing it to the back of mine. "I shall long for the sound of your voice." He said softly. He moved his hand yet again, this time to tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "Any of history's greatest visionaries would long for a muse such as yourself."
The word muse sounded like the sweetest honey coming from his voice. My hand faltered as I processed his words. "I… never realised that you thought of me in such a way."
"No? Never?" Henry's head tipped to the side. "Oh, my Dear Frankenstein, I ask you, how could I not?" I raised an eyebrow at him, my lips curving into a smile, so he continued. "How could I not be inspired by a being who appears as if he were sculpted by the gods themselves?"
I snorted. "Be quiet." I muttered fondly, my hand travelling until it rested on his chest. "You would be much better off using such lines on young women."
"I do not see why I would need to." He grinned at me coyly. "Besides, if I said such things to anyone other than yourself, it would simply not be true."
I gazed into his eyes, taking in the spark I saw there. Relishing in the way he watched me, intently.
I became conscious of the turn this was taking and cleared my throat, looking back into the flames of the fire. "Henry… this all feels so terribly wrong."
There was a pause. "What do you mean?"
I laughed nervously and brought a hand to my neck, rubbing it lightly. "I mean… ah, we shouldn't be talking about one another in such a way, don't you think?"
"I do not think so." Henry murmured quietly. I held in a breath as he put a finger to my jawline and tilted it so I would face him again. "Why should it be wrong, my Dear Victor?"
I cleared my throat as I searched for a proper way to answer this. "Well, all of this is… horribly taboo, don't you think?"
Henry considered this. "I suppose it is, yes. However, that is only by the standards of society, and," He paused to chuckle. "Those standards do not necessarily correlate with my own."
I held eye contact with him and gulped, my eyes eventually retreating to look down at his chest.
Henry seemed to note my silence and spoke again. "That is… only if you feel the same way, of course." He prompted gently.
He was expecting a response. I wanted to offer him one, only, I felt the words getting caught in my throat. He offered me yet another melancholy smile as I did not answer him, leaning backwards and withdrawing his hands.
I immediately sensed my mistake and moved closer to him again. "No, I- of course I do! Feel the same, that is." A small laugh escaped me. "You surely wouldn't think… After all this time, I do not?"
The light returned to his complexion, and I felt relieved by it. I broke eye contact again, more out of nerves. "I suppose that's why I worry so much. That… we shouldn't be doing this. That you… and I, well… we really shouldn't be thinking such things about one another." I swallowed. "You are right that what the world says is wrong should not be taken as Gospel, only… What if someone else were to find out?"
"No one else is here, Victor." Henry reasoned softly. "Another soul need not know." I regarded him blankly, so he turned his head to look around the room. "We are alone here, my Dear. If anything were to happen, and I believe quite a bit already has, then no one else shall witness it. And if no one else witnesses something, if it is not written, not spoken of, did it truly happen at all?"
"Well…" I hesitated. "I shall always know. Just as you will."
"Yes, of course, but who else needs to? If it remains only between you and I, then I do not think it is wrong at all."
I looked back at him, then. "I admire your logic, Henry." I muttered with a small chuckle.
His expression was relatively serious, although there were traces of good humour in it. "If you ask me, Victor, we cannot choose whom we love. So, if one feels that way, I argue, what is the point in trying to repress it?" His hand moved to cup my cheek yet again.
I, ever weak to Henry's romantic drabbles, leaned into his touch and sighed. "I believe that you may be right." I conceded.
"Surely I am, yes." The light in his eyes glistened beautifully.
The next few seconds played out with what I perceived to be little input from either of us. I do not know what possessed me, but I moved my head so that our noses pressed together lightly. Both of our eyes closed, but it was enough to feel as I leaned in to close the distance between our lips.
It took me a few moments, which felt like long hours, before I was able to fully process what I had just done. My eyes flickered open, though I felt far too frozen to move. I attempted to regard Henry, however he was so close that this proved to be rather difficult. His eyes remained closed and, from what I could tell, he appeared perfectly calm.
As though he were able to sense my nerves, Henry began to stroke the side of my face with his thumb, running it against the dip in my cheekbones. Admittedly, this managed to calm me greatly. I closed my eyes again and held the kiss, both of my own hands moving into his soft auburn hair.
Eventually, Henry pulled away for air, though he immediately resumed the contact by resting his nose against mine. Although his head was tilted, I could make out a smile on his lips. "Victor, I wish that you had done that sooner." Before continuing, he tilted his head and kissed me briefly, without me even having time to reciprocate. Our noses brushed together. "A little while longer before your departure, I mean."
"I… never found the right time." I said sheepishly, taking a great effort to be able to speak at all.
"And now, here we are."
"Indeed."
"Well, we had best make the most of it, wouldn't you say?" Henry held my cheek gently with his hand. I almost felt embarrassed by how secure this made me feel.
I then gasped when Henry put his hands in my hair and then, before I could quite process it, pulled me in and brought our lips together again.
Now that the initial shock had, for the most part, died down, I became conscious of the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I was inexperienced. I could only imagine that the same applied to Henry, of course. However, he seemed to have been at least somewhat prepared. Though I was utterly clueless, our lips seemed to fit together perfectly, as though they were made for each other. However, our noses collided somewhat awkwardly. This was likely my doing.
Though my nerves continued to get the better of me, I hooked my arms around the back of Henry's neck to stabilise myself. In response, the other man wrapped his arms around my lower waist and pulled me closer until our chests were pressing together.
It struck me then that I had never been this close to anyone before. Physically or emotionally. Never before had I experienced something quite like this. That caused a flicker of anxiety from within me. But above all else, I was glad that I was able to experience this with him.
At this thought, I was unable to stop a smile forming on my lips. It was apparent that Henry had felt this, because he squeezed me and chuckled, though it was muffled by our contact. Feeling mildly embarrassed, I placed my hands firmly on his face and pressed our faces together more to try and distract him. This only made him laugh more, and in turn caused my smile to worsen.
Grins were forming on both of our lips, eventually causing our front teeth to bump together with a soft clunk. I squeaked from surprise, with Henry only laughing more. He pulled away and covered his mouth with his hand, shielding his laughter. "Oh, my Dear Victor, we have no idea what we are doing."
He continued to laugh, and I found that I couldn't help but share it. I grasped his hand, attempting to pry it away so that I could once again get a good look at his features. Henry continued to lean backwards until he fell down on the carpet. A single one of his hands still holding my waist, I fell forward with him until we were both lying on the carpet next to each other. Admittedly, it was not comfortable. However, that was the least of my concerns.
Henry then covered his eyes with his hands, allowing me to get a look at his smile. The living room continued to be filled by his laughter. I regarded him fondly, sensing that he was in such good spirits, not only because of our teeth hitting one another.
I propped myself up on my elbows and rested my hand over his mouth, muffling the noise. "Henry, be quiet. You will wake someone if you aren't careful." I said in a hushed giggle. I couldn't even imagine how we could attempt to explain our position if Elizabeth, one of my brothers, or God forbid, my father were to see the pair of us in such a state.
Henry quietened down, with me finding that I couldn't help but miss the sound. I moved my hand to rest on his shoulder, however, as I did this, I was met with the sound of sniffling.
This caused me to frown. I looked back at Henry's face and moved my hand atop his, gently prying it away from his eyes. I was quick to notice the small, glistening tears.
"Oh, Henry-" I immediately grew concerned. Had I done something wrong? "Henry, what upsets you?" I became conscious of the fact that I wanted to do whatever it would take to see him glow once more.
To my surprise, he smiled at me. "Victor… My Dear Victor… I do not want you to have second thoughts about university. I do not want you to think that I am not happy for you. That could not be further from the truth; I am overjoyed."
I frowned at him. "Of course I know that. I know that you support me. You do not need to cry." I murmured to him, my hand making its way back into his hair.
Henry hummed quietly as I drew my fingers through his locks. "Nevertheless… it will pain me to see you leave. And to live my days in the foreseeable future without you." He shut his eyes, as though soothed by my touch.
"Likewise…" I said quietly. Though, I imagined that the true sadness of being left without my family, and without Clerval, would not truly strike me until I was gone.
Keeping his eyes closed, Henry searched with his hands until he found the one of mine, which remained wound in his hair. "My only wish is for you to enjoy your studies- to enjoy your time in Ingolstadt. I will remain at peace if I know that you are happy." One eye opened then, looking right at me. "And, if you write to me, of course."
"Oh, Henry, nothing on this earth could stop me." I assured him. "And, in relation to that, I shall not be at peace in Ingolstadt unless I am sure that you continue to cultivate your passions here in Geneva." I brushed my hand against his cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I shall return in only a matter of years."
"And when you return, I will be right here." Henry assured me, grasping my hand.
"As I'm sure you will be. But you need not cry now, Henry. Not when we have the whole night together."
"My apologies, Dear Victor. It was not my intention to bring the mood down." Henry rested his hands on his own chest.
"Not at all." I said adamantly. "Though, it does cause me great sorrow to see you upset." I leaned down and kissed the remnants of tears on his cheeks, removing them completely.
"I… I am not upset. Emotional, that's all. Forgive me." Henry looked up at me and brushed his cheeks with his fingers before grinning mischievously. "Come here."
I let out a yelp when I felt the other man's arms snaking around me, before they pulled me down on top of him. "Henry!" I exclaimed after recovering from my shock. We stared at one another for a while before breaking into unanimous laughter. It only took a couple more heartbeats before I kissed him again, holding the back of his neck and then burying my other hand in his hair.
Henry grunted softly. His hold on my waist tightened and he turned until we were both laying on our sides. I let out a small giggle, as uncomfortable as the rug felt against my spine. I hardly even processed it. My very consciousness was far too occupied.
Eventually, I had to break away for air. I also desired to look at him again. I wanted to take in his beautiful features, as I would be stripped of that luxury in due time. He smiled at me, and I was unable to stop myself from admiring the sight. His hair blended in wonderfully against the flames of the fireplace behind him.
Henry pulled my hips forward and kissed me again. "We shouldn't stay here for too long." I said quietly, leaning forward to kiss The bridge of his nose.
"No, I think you're quite right." Henry remained quiet before clarifying. "It would be terrible on your back, my Dear."
I snorted and again pressed a kiss to his nose. "You are correct, but that is not what I meant. What if someone were to see us? What if my father, or Elizabeth, or-"
Henry hushed me by kissing me yet again. He slowly began to turn, moving me beneath him. Though my eyes flashed towards the open doorway, I eventually closed them and melted against his lips, feeling his hands run up and down my back.
Eventually, he pulled away and gazed down at me. "Do not worry about them. They are asleep. We shall not stay here all night. Though, I am not sure what the alternative would be. I'm sure you would understand if I told you that I am rather unwilling to leave." He trailed his thumb against my cheekbone.
"Yes. I… I would expect nothing less." I conceded. I was also rather reluctant at the idea of letting him go. "I suppose… that there is always my bedroom." I offered. I could lock the door, ensuring the rest of the house to be none the wiser.
Henry appeared satisfied by this. "Now, that sounds like an idea." He smirked. "When do you propose we head up?"
I furrowed my eyebrows. Of course, the prospect of Henry laying next to me in bed was positively enticing. However, I was already rather comfortable. I pressed my hand to Henry's hair and pushed myself upwards to get a better look at the fireplace; the inferno still burning strongly. "We ought to remain here until the fire goes out."
Henry twisted his torso in order to gauge the flame behind him. I smiled and pressed my fingers deeper into his hair, enjoying the added warmth from the fire. Eventually, his head inclined in a nod. "Yes, I think that sounds reasonable." Both of our lips curved into wide grins.
Little more needed to be said. We both started to laugh, conscious of the inherent childishness of our excitement. Henry again snaked his arms around me, this time pulling me on top of him. I squealed like a small animal in my surprise, though the noise was soon muffled by the contact of the other man's lips. He kept a tight hold of me, however, it did not take long before I fell to his side yet again- although the contact between our mouths remained.
It felt easy, even inevitable, to smile against him. He would emit small chuckles every so often, though we did everything that we could to remain connected.
No doubt, being two teenagers drunk on affection and each with little experience between us, we mostly did things wrong. At points, our noses would bump together awkwardly. We both had little idea of how to properly move our lips, or even of how to correctly hold one another. However, I found myself blind to all of this. Though we were both aware of how clueless we were, Henry seemed to have an innate ability to make all of this irrelevant. I found that it was enough to kiss him, to be held by him. I found every awkward or incorrect action from either of us made it all the more enjoyable.
In the middle of this, I allowed myself to open one eye. Though it distracted me somewhat, I felt captivated by the sight of the fire in the background. As it mingled with my perception of the man next to me, the orange flame blended against the fires of his hair. I found that the light of the fire was not dissimilar to the fire- the brightness- the passion that I found in Clerval's soul. Noting this similarity, I grinned and closed my eyes again, holding the kiss and burying my hands deeper into his auburn locks.