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The string quartet played softly in the corner of the ballroom: a slow, stately song. Some guests were dancing to the tune on the far side of the buffet tables. Victor wasn’t particularly interested in joining them.
“Dear Victor,” came Henry’s voice from behind Victor. He turned to see his friend, beaming and a little red-cheeked from spirits. In his hand he held a plate of food, which he presented to him with a flourish. “Eat something. You’re a living being, not a dictionary, and you need food.”
Victor raised an eyebrow at the remark but nevertheless took a small cake from the plate. “Thank you, Henry,” he said, and ate it in small, measured bites. He then accepted the glass Henry pushed at him and followed him to the edge of the dance floor.
“Do you dance, Henry?” asked Victor as he passively watched the skirts and coattails swirl past.
“I do. Do you?”
Victor laughed. “No. I never learned. I don’t suppose I would be very good at it.” He took a sip of his drink and glanced sideways at Henry. “I’m leaving for the university in Ingolstadt soon,” he said, as if either of them had forgotten.
“I know.” Henry was silent for a moment. “I will miss you, Victor. How long will you be away?”
“Most likely several years. This will be a wonderful opportunity.” His gaze softened. “I’ll miss you as well, Henry. Shall we find a more quiet place to talk?”
Henry grinned. “Excellent idea. Come on.”
They strolled through the small throng of partygoers and through an arched doorway into a smaller atrium off of the main ballroom. None of the other guests had ventured into the room; their only company was the soft strains of music twisting through the air.
They both tried to speak at once.
“Victor, would-”
“Have you-”
Both stopped, embarrassed. “Oh, Victor, forgive me. Please, speak first.”
“If you insist,” Victor said with a small chuckle. “Henry, have you considered coming to the university as well?” He looked at his hands. “I believe they teach morality in Ingolstadt as well as the sciences. You could find a profession in the field.”
Henry sighed. “You know I would love to come with you. But… I don’t think I can.”
“Why not?”
“I have so much to do here right now,” Henry said, grimacing a little. “Responsibilities. I hate the word.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Though he already knew the answer to his question before he even asked, Victor felt a small twinge of disappointment in his chest. He looked up from where his white knuckles wrapped around the stem of the glass to catch Henry gazing steadily at him.
“What?”
Henry laughed, and set down his glass on a nearby tabletop. “Come, let’s cheer up. This is a party, after all.” He took Victor’s glass away as well, and set it next to his. “I am going to teach you to dance,” he declared with a bright grin.
“I don’t think-”
“Shush. Come on.” He grabbed Victor’s hands before he could protest or back away, and placed one firmly on his shoulder. The flushed pink in Henry’s cheeks darkened a little more as he slipped his free hand around Victor’s back. “It’s easy. Just follow my lead.” He began to bob a little to the music - one, two, three, one, two, three - and then began to lead Victor around the room.
As Victor stepped on Henry’s foot for the eighth time, he winced. “I’m sorry, Henry; I’m no good at this.
Henry laughed, a clear bell tone in Victor’s ears. “You’re doing well.”
“There’s no need to fib to protect my ego,” Victor said with a smile, then made a small sound as he accidentally kicked himself in the shin.
“Look, Victor. Watch me.” They locked gazes. “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three…” His voice faded away as Victor began to slowly catch onto the sweeping rhythms of the waltz. “See, now you’re getting it,” Henry murmured.
“Mmmm.”
And on they twirled around the dim room.
The waltz ended too soon. Henry and Victor slowed to a stop and, blushing, picked up their drinks again.
“Is the music finished?” Victor asked after waiting a moment for another song to begin.
Henry stuck his head around the doorway to check. “It looks as if they’re packing up their violas and things. I suppose this party is over.”
“That’s a shame,” Victor said. He had wanted to dance a bit longer, spinning and spinning in Henry’s arms…
“Oh! I have an idea,” Henry said suddenly with a hint of excitement in his clear voice. “I believe they keep a few rowboats in a shed down by the pond. Let’s go and borrow one.”
Victor nodded and followed Henry as he deposited the empty glasses on a table and exited the house through a back door. The cool breeze was a welcome change after the warm interior of the house. After Victor’s eyes adjusted to the gathering twilight, he saw a cobblestone path which wound off down the hill to a small pond ringed with willows.
“What a beautiful little pond,” he said, and started down the path, Henry at his side.
Henry stuck his hands into his pockets as he loped alongside him. “Isn’t it? It seems so calm and peaceful, if a bit small for rowing.”
“It will do perfectly fine,” Victor said. On a night as quiet and pure as this, the pond seemed perfect to him.
They worked together in comfortable silence to pull the small boat into the water. Despite Victor’s protests, Henry quickly claimed the oars and began to steadily pull them across the small pond. Victor sighed, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. The night was so peaceful. They had left the bright party behind entirely; the only thing he could hear was the soft lap of water against the wooden sides of the little boat, and the only thing he saw was Henry’s open, happy face and the stars twinkling above in the deep black, cloudless sky.
Henry stopped rowing suddenly and let the boat glide soundlessly toward the far edge of the pond, under the sweeping tendrils of a willow tree. One brushed against the back of Victor’s hand where it rested on the side of the little vessel. It was soft, like the faintest whisper of a kiss. He withdrew his hand.
“Victor,” Henry said quietly, pulling Victor out of his daze. Henry leaned forward and took both of Victor’s hands in his own. “You know I would do anything to come with you to the school.”
Victor sighed. “And I would do anything to be able to bring you with me. But idle wishing won’t help matters.”
Henry looked away at that, and Victor suddenly felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m just frustrated at the circumstances.”
“I know. I just…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“I don’t know.” Henry inched closer. “It’s all right, though. You’re not leaving today. You’re not leaving tomorrow, either. We have some time yet to spend together. So please, let’s stop worrying about the future.”
Victor smiled. “You’re right, as usual, Henry.” He leaned forward, so that their foreheads rested against each other. Henry was warm compared to the cool night air. Victor said nothing for a moment, relaxing in his comfortable presence.
“I’ll come up and visit sometimes,” Henry said.
“Mmm. I look forward to it.”
“Do you?” Henry gave Victor a quick peck on the nose, then drew back, smiling softly. “So do I. But I truly look forward to when you are once again here with me. Perhaps…” Henry’s eyes locked onto his. “For good?”
Victor raised his hands and placed them on Henry’s freckled cheeks, holding his head still as he gazed into his eyes. “That would be grand,” came his simple reply. Then he pulled Henry’s lips to his. The kiss was long but soft, full of bliss, and sweet as honey. An orchestra of crickets and whispering leaves serenaded them with a tuneless yet beautiful song, and even after they pulled apart, this was the only sound hovering in the air.
Victor and Henry leaned back and lay in the bottom of the boat, hands clasped between them as they gazed up at the sky through the willow’s draperies. They didn’t say another word - they understood each other perfectly. Their souls were in harmony and completely at peace. And though the future still loomed on the horizon, it seemed brighter somehow, as if the sun hid behind it, waiting for the day when it could once again shed its lovelight on their world.