Chapter Text
A figure moved silently through the old graveyard. It was close to midnight and the area was empty save him. Even though it was closed to the public, he had still come, had needed to come at this time.
He followed the paths, moving from new tombstones to old. His steps led him unerringly to where he needed to go. He would never forget. He would never forget a single thing that had led to putting up this tombstone.
But his heart still faltered as it came into sight. He didn’t slow but time seemed to stop as he reached it. He stood for a moment, merely looking at it and feeling the ever-present weight on his shoulders press a little harder. “Cara mia…been a while.”
No response came, of course, but he gently laid the bouquet of flowers down on the grave. They would fade but they had been her favourite so he brought them when he visited.
The striking of a match filled the silence and he quietly lit the small candles lining the top of the marker. Saint-Germain had beat him to it, it seemed. But it made sense for their old friend to come during the day. Just as it made sense for him to come now.
He came regularly, honouring his love and the life they’d had, always twice a year since her death. Once on her birthday and once on the anniversary of her death. But tonight was different. It was the only exception he had planned on ever making since the funeral.
Looking up at the moon, he stared at the crescent glowing in the dark. It had been a long time coming but the day had finally arrived. He’d counted them down, an odd thing for an immortal to do when his days were endless, but they were coming to an important event. The single most important event in his long life.
Tonight was the night Arabella had found her way into the mansion…and into his heart.
Leonardo closed his eyes but all it did was bring back memories. The first time he awoke and saw her in the hallway; kissing her in the library to calm her and unintentionally sealing his fate; the lake; the watch; her declaration; their love; everything was crystal clear in his memories, as he wanted them to be. As he needed them to be.
Using another match, he lit a cigarillo and felt his lips quirk. “Never could give it up,” he admitted, crouching down beside the grave. “Not that you asked me to. Should have. Would have done it for you, Bella.”
But neither of them had wanted the other to change. They’d loved each other exactly the way they were. Right up to the moment of her death.
He blew out a thin cloud of smoke and rubbed his chest. He’d made his peace with the inevitable, had set the thought away to love every second they’d had together without that looming over them. And they’d had a wonderful life together. She’d been radiant and loving right until the end, going peacefully while she’d slept in his arms.
Tracing his fingers over the name carved into the stone, Leonardo allowed himself a sad smile. “Cruel to make that promise, Bella,” he murmured. “Knowing I’ll never forget it.”
“Don’t shut yourself off from everyone. They need you and you need them. You can’t be alone like that, Leo. You weren’t meant to be alone. Promise me you won’t do it.”
He’d promised because he was incapable of denying her anything, but she’d asked it of him only a handful of days before she’d passed. He’d spent weeks after wondering if she had known that her time with him was coming to an end before realising it didn’t matter. He’d made the promise and he had kept it. Mostly. Not entirely.
“Not always easy to be in that house without you, cara mia,” he admitted quietly, rubbing his thumb over the inscription of ‘beloved wife’. “There’s…too many memories in there and not enough you.”
He’d had her for her entire life, no matter how short it was in the scope of his, every part of it tucked into his heart to last him into eternity. But…the physical reminder of a home without her had grown to be too much for even him and that promise. He’d left a few times in the decades since her death, but he came back. The mansion was the only true home he’d ever known and he couldn’t stay away for long. But he wasn’t sure that would hold true now.
“Cara mia…I miss you.” The words were soft, straight from his aching heart. He only ever said them here, to her. It didn’t matter if anyone else who knew him, truly knew him, could see it and knew it, the words were only for her.
His touch hovered over the date of her death before going back up, above her name. He pressed his hand to the globe he’d had carved there, remembering all the questions that had come in their days together and how her curiosity had known no bounds. He’d let her keep her question a day, even if it led to ten or twenty others, because they’d turned from questions about him to the things he could teach her. She’d been eager to learn, not only what he knew but more about him. He’d been more willing to give her the information once she’d made a nice place for herself in his life.
How many nights had they spent tucked in their bed, her sleepily listening as he’d told her story after story of his life? It must have been nearly half of them and the other half had been her telling him stories of her life, her family, her time. They’d so rarely been apart yet had always had something new to talk about.
Putting out the cigarillo, Leonardo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her name. “Bella mia,” he said softly, “tonight you’ve finally come to me. My heart and my life are forever yours.”
He leaned back and stood up. The night air was warm around him, but he felt cold. It had been a comfort these last twenty-seven years, knowing that she’d been out there in the world, living her life the way she had told him, and that if he’d wanted to, he could have found her. But that was changed now. She was forever gone and forever alone was now stretching out in front of him.
“No regrets,” Leonardo murmured. “Will never regret a single moment I had with you, Bella. Each one was a treasure I never thought to have. You were a treasure. I’ll love you until this world becomes dust, cara mia.”
Finding his way here was easy but leaving was always difficult. This time was no different, if not more so. This was the true end of their circle. There was no going back, for him or for her.
But he walked out of the graveyard, wiping away the single tear he let spill over, and disappeared into the Parisian night.