Nonconformity | Henry Creel

Calamity

Henry's stomach sank with an unfamiliar feeling. Her words were spoken with so much conviction it almost stung. He'd never been incredibly sensitive, but somehow judgement from her held a new type of import. Just those few words elicited a discomfort that Brenner's lectures never could, even after a decade of being subjected to them.

"It was never my goal to trick you, Sixteen."

"No?" She finally met his eyes, "Then how did we get here? I can understand why you kept being Number One to yourself. Hell, I'm not even angry about it. It's the fact that you used my lack of knowledge for your own ends. The dreams were to... what? Manipulate me into liking you? What did you hope to accomplish?"

"No, Sixteen. You're far too smart to be manipulated," Henry took a few careful steps closer. He knew how Sixteen worked, he knew her weaknesses. If he could just get close enough, he could melt her like some blazing inferno. Her mind would turn slow and liquid just for him, and then he would whisper whatever pretty words he wanted to make her fall into him again. That's not to say his flattery was devoid of truth, though. Most of the time it was just a matter of putting his preconceived thoughts into words.

And he was being entirely truthful when he uttered the words, "The first time I visited you in your dreams there were no ulterior motives. You just... caught my attention. You have power, Sixteen. Genuine power that I haven't seen in a long time." He took another step forward. Her gaze narrowed but before she could say anything, he continued, "I visited you because I was intrigued. Touching you like that was never part of my plan."

"You can't seriously expect me to believe that," her eyes hardened even more, if that was possible. "Why would you continue to visit me afterwards, anyway? I just don't understand the motive for any of this."

"Is it truly so hard to believe I enjoy your company?" He frowned, "You really should give yourself more credit."

Her head fell into her hands and a twinge of guilt shot through Henry. She looked so defeated. "And all those times you used the same words that you used in my dreams... Was that purposeful, too? You wanted to toy with me?"

His guilt was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as a breath of air in freezing cold weather. It was a relief that Sixteen couldn't see him then. Henry couldn't even try to prevent the grin that came upon his face. She was right, of course. He loved to watch her falter. How could he not? It was a precious sight, the way her muscles tensed and her breathing halted when she recalled the moments they shared in her sleep. She could be quite skilled at hiding her emotions when she tried, but when he got her flustered it was impossible for her to keep herself together. So he'd push and he'd push, using the same phrases as much as he could without seeming too suspicious. Just enough for her to wonder. To drive herself crazy with 'what-ifs.'

Henry loved to watch that brilliant mind of hers whir. He just couldn't help himself.

Though, it seemed he pushed her too far this time.

"No, it wasn't purposeful," His tone was tooth-achingly earnest as the lie fell from his lips. "Can I ask you a question?"

She scoffed.

He took that as a yes. "How did you manage to get into my head?"

"I drugged you." There was no hesitance to the words, no attempt to justify her actions. She met his eyes without a hint of remorse, stoic as ever. A shocked sort of laugh fell from Henry's mouth.

"You drugged me," He repeated, disbelief twisting up his face, "Oh, my. It seems I'm not the only deceitful one, am I?"

"I made you sleep longer," She replied, "You lied to me about your identity for five months, toyed with me, and fabricated our entire relationship for a reason I still don't understand. I'd say my deceit is on a very, very different level than yours."