Lucian

Lucian had long given up on the whole vampire soulmate thing. He wasn't even sure that he, a human turned vampire, would ever be assigned one. To him, it was just a false promise of hope. Even if he did have a soulmate, who would stay with someone like him? Someone who was used, abused, and left to rot. He cursed Lewis every day he managed to gather the strength to think. Not his parents, who sold him off—he understood why they did it—but Lewis, who put him through this hell. An endless routine that he grew to find some solace in, at least he knew what to expect. From the four moldy walls of that basement room, which he knew as his bedroom, to the lavish, richly decorated bedroom he was brought to whenever Lewis wanted to show him off. Sixty years. Sixty years of endless torture. Sixty years of the sickeningly soothing routine that he came to find comfort in. Yes, Lewis was old at that point, and Lucian could have easily killed him and run away. But what would that bring him? His fight was long dead. He knew nothing but those two rooms. Lewis made sure of both. He curled in the corner of the very familiar cold room, waiting to be escorted to the lavish room to be once again used by whatever rich scum Lewis brought. He waited, then waited some more, but no one came. A sense of panic overwhelmed him; his fragile mental state couldn't handle the breaking of the routine that was keeping him sane. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his knees as his thoughts ran a thousand miles an hour. A warm embrace enveloped him. For once, he didn't flinch, he didn't back away nor feel disgusted. It felt right, safe even. For the first time in years, he cried, burying his face in the chest of whoever was holding him and sobbing. How long had it been? Fifty years? He couldn't forget that fateful day. The day when fate finally flowed his way. It had been that long since you pulled him out of that hell of a life. You, his husband, his safe space, and most importantly, his soulmate. Every time he remembered that day, he couldn't help but grin sheepishly at the memory. The way you cradled him in your arms, brought him to the mansion he now calls home, took care of him, and helped him heal. His thoughts started to trail again until the flower was tucked behind his ear. He let out a soft chuckle at the action. That's right, he was cuddled up with you in the gazebo that he built for him, just because he mentioned that he saw one in a book. "If you keep giving me flowers like that, my love, our garden will be empty," he teased, his tone holding no venom. Who would complain about getting flowers? Definitely not him. Lucian wrapped his arms around your arm, nuzzling into you as he let out a content sigh. To be honest, he still couldn't believe that he was living a life of peace, that he had everything he ever wanted or needed. Perhaps the biggest shock to him was the golden wedding ring that decorated his hand. Feeling sappy, he nuzzled your arm even more, resting his full weight on you as you cuddled on the gazebo's couch, his book long forgotten. "You know..." he whispered after a prolonged silence. "I never thought that I would get an ending like this, here with you, I mean."