His bed was never used; The room never let to breathe. However, that night, Henry rushed to its side and tossed the covers to reveal a thin white sheet and gauzy pillow.

Shrieking, he grabbed the flattened fluff with a firm grip and sunk his hollow fangs into the fabric, tearing it with his lower teeth.

Henry took a deep breath, held it for a moment as he sucked in more air, filling every crevasse in his lungs with space, and then screamed as forcefully as he could. He buried his face till he felt he'd suffocate.

He let go after seizing, turned over and rested, lying up and staring at the ceiling. "Why does it hurt so much! I am filled with this tension that I cannot shake! An aching right here—" He gathered a clump of his shirt into his hand "—and there's nothing to cure this ailment!"

He knew it wasn't an ailment, but a love or whatever this was utterly sickening!

Feathers began to fly from his pillow, dancing in the air as if they were floating. As if they were boats above his head, and Henry was drowning. . .

Oh... Henry felt his body molding to the bed and becoming one with its mattress. Woe is me. Rolling over until his feet met the ground, Henry gathered himself to stand—the feeling of ten thousand weights hung on his shoulders—and decided to go out and drown his thoughts with loud music at a club.

Henry, avoiding the bouncer, slipped past with a group of girls and went immediately to the bar. There, almost a hundred people crowded the counter, either conversing with others, bending over their drinks, or berating the bartender for another listing on their tab.

They were loud and chatty, filling the area with a dense atmospheric sound. Others hummed along to the band that played on stage. It was a dark club scene with no windows or anything, and inside was just as dark as outside—if not darker.

"Two gin and tonics, please!" Henry bent over into the bartenders ear, letting his wet lips ease his words out.

People around him huddled close, but were hiding in a separate conversation, touching him, but had their backs to him. The bartender, without acknowledgement, handed him his drink and moved on down the counter.

Henry shrugged and picked up the glass. Almost the exact moment he took a big shot, he wretched it back up.

Again, he was pushing past people, and despite their uproar, he pushed even more. Henry felt his stomach squeeze, sending everything up at once. Everything around him suddenly disappeared as his vision began to blacken around the edges, and all he could see was the legs and feet right in front of him.

He ran to the closest bathroom, which was the woman's, and into one of the stalls. Henry walked into a couple resting against the back wall and spat out his drink.

"Ah!"

"Ew!" The two women climbed off the toilet, wiping the drink off their shoulders. Henry leaned deeper into the stall, griping the toilet bowl with both hands as he coughed up blood.

Getting up, Henry feebly stumbled to the worn sink, feeling every drag, man, and woman all worn themselves through use, stare at him. He tumbled to the stained and wet floor, seeing the streaks of mold run through length of the wall and feel the dampness of other fluids against his back.

The air was hazy from smoke and other drugs, and the stench of cigarettes and booze made him nauseous. He closed his eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning as the jello flooring tilted back and forth. . . Back. . .and forth. . .

"Henry?"

Henry looked up to see Veronica looking down at him; the statue of how she stood was illfuly sharp against the hazy backdrop. She wore a thin silvery dress designed with a tight belt and leg warmers that wrapped around her tall heels. Her hair was frizzed and pulled tight with a scrunchie.

"What happened to you?" She reached down and pulled him to his feet, resting him against the wall.

"I! I! I think I've fallen for him!" Henry slid down to sit on the nasty floor.

Veronica rubbed his shoulder, "I know, I know, Adam told me."

"What? Who's Adam?" Henry turned to stare Veronica in the eyes. He hasn't seen her in forever. "How are you alive?" He exclaimed.

"Let's get out of here and go somewhere we can really talk. I don't think the lady's room is a good place to catch up on the last three hundred years!"

In a slow, warm bar, Henry sat across from Veronica, and together they tore apart peanuts, leaving the shells and nuts together. It was a slow night for the bartenders, but even then the few tables there were tied up the single waitress that went back and forth to the bar and their seat.

It was well past the kitchens being open, so all that there was were peanuts.

"How long have you been alive?" Henry, dazing at her, inquisitively asked. The wooden seating area was dimly lit with overhanging lighting, sharp with its projected rays. That is, it lit up the center of the table and the peanuts, but nothing else, leaving Veronica and Henry with little up faces and a sense of severe privacy.

Veronica sighed, "I woke up on a bench in Central Park this morning." She took another deep breath before she put down some peanut shells. "I went to court for several years as they reviewed my sins and attributes, but I had to wait for them to get to it for another hundred."

She rolled her eyes, "Adam was the one to judge, but he said he'd have to consult God on this one to see if their justice system should hear my case or if another justice system had to." Veronica swallowed to prepare herself for the next tid bit of information.

"It turns out: God wanted me to tell you something, so he had Adam turn me into an angel. I'm some guardian for you, aren't I?" She let a puff of air out to laugh.

"What?" Henry let out a breath, "What does he want to say to me?" He pushed the piles of shells to the side.

"It's okay to love him the way you want to love him." She shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant, but her words touched his heart. "He was sent back to be with you, Henry, so there's no need to be afraid of Edward."

Henry covered his mouth, keeping the tears at bay. "I'm not going to be sent to hell?"

"Not because of that, no, but last I heard your case was still being disputed between religions." She picked up her fork and moved the pancakes from one dish to another, "But, there's not much you've done to make God turn away from you. You're still a child of his."

Henry could have wept he was so happy. "Edward's alive, Veronica."

She turned to the woman who sat at the bar, watching the news. Veronica whispered to Henry.

With a sultry look, Veronica turned to Henry, "She's just had a sexual awakening." She pressed her lips, trying to hide her excitement. "I can tell by the way her aura is lit." Smiling, Veronica got up swiftly to the woman where she leaned in and pulled the woman with her eyes.

"Okay now,"  Veronica said as she plopped herself in front of Henry. "Earl is going to ask you to a luncheon with his friends. If you feel uncomfortable by any means, now you can reference me and Cherry."

"Who's Cherry?" Henry asked.

As cool as anyone could say it, Veronica pursed her lips: "My new date, obviously. We're getting lunch tomorrow."

Henry smiled and gave her a look of amazement, "Don't tell me you've picked up a woman just like that?" Veronica shrugged, insinuating it wasn't that difficult. "I can't just ask my boss out, not because of what you think, but because he's my boss, and that it's Edward we're talking about."

"I can understand that, but you realize Edward, not Earl, has been looking for you. He's spent the last six months tracking you down."

"He did what?"

"Yes! He's specifically got that job working for your company because you were there."

Henry rubbed his face, "Now I feel worse."

"Worse? Worse about what? Earl has fallen head over heels for you."

"I." He refused to look Veronica in the eyes. "I turned down the promotion. It's been the only promotion I've ever been offered at the office, but now I feel even worse because I know it's because he knows me. I don't even deserve it!"

"Shut up this instant, Henry!" Veronica slammed her palm on the table. The waitress at the other side of the restaurant perked up. "You are worthy of that promotion and definitely deserve it! That has nothing to do with what Edward thinks!"

Veronica adjusted her blazer before she started again, this time more softly, "Take that promotion, Henry. Edward really likes you. He's not going to hurt you or make a mockery of you." She shook her head, starring deeply into his eyes.

Henry had an epiphany: those were the same eyes he fell madly in love with three hundred years ago, but that night when he sought to turn Edward, something changed inside of him. A need for his closeness. To sink his teeth lovingly into his neck and hold him tightly against his chest.

"Okay, I'll take the promotion, if he'll still have me." He finally folded.

"Of course he will! That's the Henry I know!"

Henry smiled at her appraisal, "So, you need a place to stay?" Sheepishly, Veronica nodded. "You can crash at mine."