Chapter Text
What more could I want for this lifetime, but for you to remember me?
Something is following Daniel. He doesn't know what, but there is something. Something that raises his hackles, makes him want to run, to hide. Something that awakens the long subdued prey drive in him. Like back when he came too close to the mafia working a case. Yes, just like that, but worse. Much, much worse. Something is on his tail. Something big. Something bad. So bad that Daniel cannot help but feel like a gazelle about to be caught in the maws of a crocodile. One slip and Daniel is dead.
Alice thinks it is paranoia, bred by years into his career. She may be somewhat right, but Daniel knows that he is too. He is being followed, hunted. By what, he doesn’t know.
And then there are the visions. The fucking visions. He feels like he is going crazy. That he should check himself into those asylums he himself had investigated.
Red. Red. Red. And more red. Blood and guts. That is all he sees these days. Not because of his job. No. But behind closed eyes. The second he closes his eyes, the dark gives way to red, blood red. Followed by the coppery scent that inevitably fills his senses until he has to stop what he is doing and drown the scent in his nose, the taste in the back of his throat with nicotine. The red swirls, like water when something is dropped in it. The ripples move back and forth until a whirlpool forms, the center dark and dangerous, the red not any less. Like clockwork, the eyes form, the center of the whirlpool darkens like the pits of hell, the red bleeding into a burning orange. The color of amber. Beautiful but uncanny. Driving him in, a siren call, drowning himself willingly. The amber hardening around him, encasing his being until he cannot breathe, and his masochistic self welcoming it.
Like an insect. That is how he feels. Under a microscope. Whose, he does not know. His every move, surveyed by an unknown.
Daniel feels ready to crawl out of his skin. His paranoia heightens every time he looks at Alice's pregnant belly. She deserves better. A better partner. A smoother pregnancy. Just better, in general. And yet she is stuck with Daniel. A man who only feels alive in the jaws of danger. Feels alive only when he is held in the warmth of that amber.
Something is following Daniel. Something not what he sees behind closed eyes. Something different. An unknown danger.
Like, right now.
He is on his way to his usual haunt. A fucking gay bar. Umber's. Alice deserves better. Maybe he should let whatever it is that is hunting him snap his body in its maw. That would be better. Better for Alice. Better for Kate. Alice could find a better husband, one who would definitely be a better father to Kate. Alice rarely makes the same mistake twice. Her next husband would definitely be better. Far better than Daniel.
Daniel can feel eyes on him, his body burning under the gaze. A predator. Every instinct in Daniel tells him to run, hide, but another part of him, an ever-growing one, says don't; let it eat you up; maybe that will make you whole, maybe that'll numb the ache inside of you, maybe then you'll finally be worth something, maybe then you'll finally find what you are searching for, longing for, yearning for.
Yes. Yes. Let it hold you. Hold you close, claws digging into you, your tender neck snapped in its maw.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
But Kate….
She'll be better off without you. Alice will make sure of that. Alice's next husband won't be a fag; she'll make sure of it. You know she knows; of course she does. This will be so much better. Yes. Yes. Yes.
With his mind made up, Daniel opens the door to the bar. And it is as if he loses control of his being. His limbs no longer his, as if a mind not his controls them.
Daniel looks up, and there he is. The Devil.
And he is calling. Daniel wants to run, but is unable to. The devil would not let him. He is but a marionette. The strings held by the devil.
Daniel is seated at the barstool, and a drink is placed in front of him. His hand lifts of its own accord and grabs the drink. A grasshopper. His usual. How? Who-
Rest
…
What he was thinking of, Daniel could not remember. He could remember nothing but the handsome, agreeable man next to him. A halo of golden hair. He is beautiful. So very beautiful. In a way, a hurricane is. Destructive. Something that evokes a feeling of awe in you. Something to observe from afar. Something big and beautiful, which makes you realize how small and insignificant you are.
A hand reaches up and cups Daniel's cheek. Ah. There it is. The familiar cold. Daniel closes his eyes and nuzzles into the hand. And his fate is sealed.
viens avec moi
…
Daniel walks out of the bar; of his accord or not, he doesn't know.
There is music coming from a place Daniel doesn't understand. But it is there. And Daniel follows it, like the song of the siren.
He follows the devil back to his lair. In a daze. As if a child following the pied piper.
Rest
…
Hurts. Teeth. Neck.
Rest
…
Don't be afraid; I am going to give you the choice I never had.
…
Daniel sees a man, an illusion, created by his mind or the vampire's; he does not know. The sun shines behind him, creating an imposing silhouette, looking down at him.
Dark skin. Dark hair. Pretty eyes. Burning orange, like the sun. Amber, the ones Daniel is used to being encased in. He stands there, his jaw clenched, features stern, disappointment evident in his eyes. He looks away, and Danny just wishes to cry. He wants to curl up, to get on his hands and knees and beg, to apologize. Do anything to make him look at Danny.
The scene changes, and the white devil is holding Danny. Caressing him, his touch bruising him. He bites Danny's neck, the necklace wound tightly around his neck, finally snapping as it is taken, and the beautiful man finally looks at Danny. His amber eyes wide. Hurt. He reaches out a hand towards Danny—
viens à moi
…
Daniel is on a couch, and his maître is in front of him. Lestat. That's his name. Lestat de Lioncourt. He looks at Daniel, his head cocked to the side, observing Daniel. Who was the man? The one he saw in Lestat's mind. Daniel wants to ask Lestat, but he feels that he wouldn't get the truth. If anything, he would be the one being put on the hot seat, as Lestat interrogates him.
Wait—
Alice! Kate!
Rest
…
His limbs feel too heavy, as if filled with lead, and he is underwater. He cracks open an eye and realizes he is on the floor, with the blonde devil sitting before him, his hands clasped together in front of him, his head cocked to the side like Daniel is a puzzle he cannot solve.
Ugh.
Right.
Daniel is a vampire now.
“You are not that fascinating,” Lestat says as he looks at Daniel.
My fascinating boy
Daniel looks at Lestat. He thought his maker, Lestat, would not be able to read his mind.
“You can read my mind?” Daniel asks as he rests up on his elbows, his head spinning.
“No. Thankfully, I can't. I wouldn't wish your drivel upon anyone.”
Bastard.
Lestat smacks his thigh as he gets up from the chair. “Well. Shall we?”
“Shall we what?” Daniel asks as he sits up. The bare-bones room greets Daniel. This room is going to be featured in Daniel's nightmares in the coming days. Wait, can vampires dream?
“Slow on the uptake. Another mark gone.” Lestat mimics slashing out a tally mark in the air. “You have all but three more chances to prove me wrong. Fail, if you do… well, you know what will happen.”
What the fuck. As if making him a vampire was not enough, this bastard also wants Daniel to be his personal entertainment. Like a clown, but one who gets killed because he is unfunny.
“Well, I have some business to take care of. Don't leave.”
It's not as if Daniel has anything to do or anywhere to be, so he decides to trail Lestat, whether he wants that or not. And maybe fresh air will do him better; maybe he'll get some ideas on how to deal with… this, his family. Alice. Kate. It's not as if he can go back to them. Ever.
“Wait. I am coming with you.”
“No.”
“Can't stop me. Where are we going?”
“I am going to do something I should have done ages ago.”
“Very well. Lead the way.”
“No—” Daniel exits the room before Lestat can say anything. He walks out of the house and is immediately assaulted by all the sounds. He puts his hands up to his ears, trying to block all the sounds, but is unable to. Fuck it, he thinks, and tries to go back inside the house, but Lestat blocks his way and bodily ushers him out.
“Non. You wished to join me, mon chienne. Join me.” Lestat says and locks the door. He looks a bit smug, and Daniel knows for sure that this bastard has called him something bad, something that sounds a bit… familiar. But Daniel can't be sure what. Daniel needs to learn a language, any language, to even the playing field, to cuss this bastard out. Maybe Arabic. Or something from southern Asia. Anything with enough words for Daniel to articulate how much of a dick his maker is.
Daniel is about to say something in retaliation when a particularly loud honk has him clutching his ears in pain. Lestat looks down at his hunched form without an ounce of pity, shrugs, and says, “You'll get used to it,” and walks past him and onto the street.
Fucking asshole.
Daniel trails after Lestat, trying his best to keep his equilibrium as his ears are pounded. He focuses on his body, on the way his legs move, the pavement below his shoes. He takes a deep breath in and immediately puts a hand up to his mouth, covering his nose as the scent of sweet, sweet blood greets him. He can feel his fangs drop in response as he staggers to a stop, resting his side on the brick wall as he breathes from his mouth.
Lestat all but ignores him as he keeps on walking; passersby give him a weird look, one mother picking up her child.
Souse, she thinks as she gives him the stink eye.
Daniel ignores her in favor of being a mouth breather. At least the smell is decreasing. He stands there, the bricks digging into his skin, for a moment longer, and when he looks up, Lestat is all but gone.
That blonde bastard.
Daniel refuses to run after him, so he just stands there under the streetlamp with his head in his hands.
I need a cigarette.
Here.
Daniel looks up and is greeted by a man. Newsboy hat. Brown trench coat. Brown pants. Mustard eyes. Ugly color. A vampire.
Are you Lestat's?
Who is Lestat?
“Thanks.” Daniel says as he grabs a cigarette from the offered box. He puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it. He inhales a drag and blows it out, the familiar taste of nicotine filling his senses. Thank god, he can still taste the nicotine, unlike food. At least he doesn't have to give this vice up.
Lestat. Is that your maker?
Hmm? Oh. Yes.
European?
Aren't they all?
Mine was too.
“Bruce.” The vampire extends a hand towards Daniel. What are the odds? Daniel found another vampire on his first night as one. How many of them were there?
“Daniel.”
They shake hands, and before he knows it, Daniel is inviting him back to his place.
“Met another one, a couple of years back. Don't know where she is now.” Bruce says as they reach the front steps to Lestat’s place. The door swings open as the second Daniel goes to twist the knob. Lestat. Or maybe Bruce.
“She was good.”
What does he mean by good? And why did he say it like that? Daniel enters the house as Bruce follows him inside. The door slams shut of its own accord behind them. Bruce whistles, clearly impressed. So he is not doing this, and Daniel is certainly not doing this. That could mean only one thing. Lestat is here.
Is he done with whatever business he had?
A fire in a woody area. Teenage girl. Curly hair. Scared. A broken foot. Pain…
Daniel stops in his tracks as Bruce passes him and enters the living room. What the fuck. This sick fuck. Daniel looks at this… creature and only feels rage. The teenage girl looks so much like what he imagines Kate to look like in the future, even though she is nothing but the size of a grapefruit right now.
Vampires are demonic by nature, but they don't have to be. Killing for sustenance is vastly different from harming for enjoyment. And Daniel cannot believe he let this creature in the house.
Daniel walks to the living room, and there is his maker, back on the chair right where Daniel woke up. His head is down, but his body is rigid. Awfully rigid, like he is physically holding himself from moving. His hand in a tight fist over his knee, the clench of his jaw...
“Well done, fledgling. You are not completely useless, after all.” Lestat says as he looks at Daniel, a fake smile on his face.
“Y’all fags?” Bruce says. The disgust on his face actually makes Daniel guffaw. That's the same fucking face Daniel is making after his realization. The audacity of this fucking rapist.
“Better than a rapist.” Daniel says and watches as Bruce's entire body is seized; his limbs stick to his side as his body, well, hovers. Lestat is powerful. Of course the blond fucking devil is.
Lestat gets up as he looks at Daniel. He has that almost constipated look on his face he has when he looks at Daniel, so far off from the way he looked in the bar. He circles Bruce, but his eyes never leave Daniel, making him want to shrink in on himself.
“You are lucky, fledgling. Your first meal, and it is a fellow vampire.” Lestat says as he sits back down. Bruce fights with the hold on his body, his face scrunched up in concentration, a snarl on his face.
Well. If Daniel has to drink blood to survive, it might as well be from this wannabe killer who only hurts those weaker and smaller than him.
Lestat digs his index finger into Bruce's neck and drags, surely carving down to the muscle. He steps back and licks the blood off his finger.
And Daniel pounces.
His fangs elongate, cutting the inside of his mouth. He lodges his fangs into Bruce's neck and sucks, gulping down mouthfuls of sweet, thick blood. He drinks and drinks and drinks, unable to stop. Was blood always this sweet? Yes, it was. His own wasn't. He remembers the oftentimes he would cut his tongue. Blood never tasted sweet then. But it does now. So sweet.
“Enough.” Lestat says, and Daniel's body seizes, his throat clamping down, unable to swallow more. Daniel feels his body move backwards and away from Bruce's body. His body falls to his knees, and Daniel glares at Lestat as blood falls from his chin to his knees, but Lestat ignores him in favor of looking at Bruce.
There are invisible vines locking Daniel into place, his hands being pushed into his sides, his upper body pushing down as his calves push into the back of his thighs and his shoes dig into his ass.
Lestat sits back in his chair, his eyes flitting between Daniel and Bruce, before he does…something, and Bruce reaches down; his hands grab his knee, one in front and the other back. And he starts to push his knee... the wrong way.
Daniel watches in morbid fascination as Bruce starts to grunt in pain but doesn't stop. He keeps on going until his knee snaps, bent the other way, and Daniel is enraptured by the violence. He has always known he was not right in the head; his career choice was an obvious giveaway, but reporting a crime scene from afar and being in the crime scene is vastly different. And Daniel doesn't hate it. He realizes that he likes both being in the scene and behind it. He likes this. He enjoys this, mostly because he knows Bruce deserves this. He enjoys when justice prevails, even if he finds the executor annoying at best.
Daniel is sure the same manic look is in his eyes as it is when he finds an indisputable lead, like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, the moment lasting for eternity. His manic eyes meet Lestat's cold ones, silently asking for more.
Daniel takes in a deep breath, blowing it out of his mouth as he steadies himself on his feet. He inserts the key into the hole, and as silently as possible, he turns it. The lock clicks in its place, and he twists the doorknob. The door swings open, and Daniel steps in, too quiet, like a thief in the night. He closes the door as slowly as possible, afraid of making any noise.
“What are you doing? Where have you been?”
Daniel jumps in his place at the sudden sound. He didn't even realize the occupant of the house was awake. Hell, he didn't even see her in the dark. Some vampire he is.
There she is. Sharp, beautiful, and no bullshit taker, Alice Molloy. Six months pregnant, but still as quick as ever, maybe not on her feet, but certainly in her mind. She is standing in the kitchen, with the lights on, dipping a cucumber in the strawberry jam Mrs. Chavez from 304 had gifted them.
“Alice, my love, you are awake.” He stutters out, once again feeling out of his depth in the presence of the shrewd love of his life.
Her brown eyes narrow as she looks at Daniel, taking in his appearance. Luckily he isn't drunk. He was sure Alice would have kicked him out had he started slurring, and rightfully so. As if being pregnant isn’t hard enough, your dumbass husband adding onto the worries is not something anyone should deal with.
“Didn't answer my question.” She looks clearly unimpressed. Before Alice could turn the lights on, Daniel quickly ran towards the bedroom and started throwing some clothes into his satchel. He hears the thudding of Alice's bare feet on the floorboards and quickly leaps across the bed and out of the room just as Alice flips the light switch on.
“Mckinney embezzlement case. Gotta go. Be back in a couple of days.” Liar.
He rushes past Alice and back into the darkened living room with Alice in pursuit.
“Danny. What the fuck. You are just going to leave—
“Just a couple of days.” Lie.
“And if I wasn't awake? You would have left without saying anything.”
“I would have left a note.”
“That doesn't make it any better.”
Daniel stops at the door, feeling a lump in his throat. Alice goes to flip the light switch next to him, but before she could, he slaps his hand on the switchboard. He can see the bewilderment in her eyes because of how quick he was.
So what? He was just supposed to up and leave? His wife and unborn daughter, all alone. There were vampires in this world, and he was supposed to leave? Cut all human attachments, just because he was no longer one. But… if he is next to them, they will always be in danger. A target. Right now Alice is just another woman, nothing different about her than the rest of the humans. But a vampire next to her makes her a target. But… she's human, always a vampire target. And what of Kate?
His breaths grow labored as he takes in one shaky breath after another, yet never getting any air. Do vampires need oxygen? Do vampires get panic attacks? Do vampires cry?
No longer human, he is. Does he even deserve this? Deserve Alice? Kate? He doesn't. Stop ruining this for them. Leave them. Let them live. They are better off without you. Maybe just step into the sun. That would be better, wouldn't it? Yes. Yes. Yes. The sun. Step into the sun—
“Danny?” Alice's hand on his shoulder brings him back, and he realizes that he is crying, his hand still slapped on the switchboard. “Let's go to bed, love.”
“Yes, please.” Daniel says as he follows Alice into the bedroom. He quickly wipes away the lone tear as the scent of blood hits his nose. So he cries blood now. Another aspect of humanity taken from him.
Daniel climbs in bed after Alice, her back to his front. He holds her belly in his hands, caressing the skin, hoping Kate would feel it too. He loves them. Alice and Kate. He loves them so much. But he understands that they deserve better. So he needs to leave. But before that he needs to make sure that they will be taken care of financially.
“I am scared.” He admits into the dark of the night. This is his final moment with his wife. With his daughter. He… has to go. There is no way around it. He doesn't wish to let them go. But he has to. For once in his life, he is going to be responsible. For once.
“What's wrong?” Alice tries to twist around and look at him, but gives up, her belly too heavy. Daniel snorts into her hair, snuggling in her neck as he drops a peck.
“Just…scared.”
“Ey… Jo hoga so hoga. Whatever it is, you always get through it.” Daniel sniffles in her neck and hums. She giggles as his cold nose touches her neck. “Go to sleep.”
Daniel lies, still as the corpse he is, with Alice in his arms as she drops off to sleep. Daniel lays there, breathing in her scent for the last time. When he is sure she is asleep, Daniel eases his hand from beneath her and sits up.
3:07 a.m., the clock reads. The sun would be up in an hour or so. He needs to leave. Maybe a letter. For Alice. For Kate. They deserve that. Something a bit upbeat, not an outright suicide letter. A letter to the lawyer regarding his inheritance from that distant relative. Empty his bank account into a fund for Alice and Kate. But he needs a death certificate for that. For that they need a body. Now where the hell is he going to get a body from?
Wait.
Yes.
The private cabin Lestat paid for is quite roomy. Reminiscent of the private cabin he saw in the newspaper when the new cabins in the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express were unveiled. Very art deco. A queen-size bed with windows to the side, which they put blackout curtains on. Leather suitcases sit atop the bed, Daniel and Lestat sitting on the armchair by the cabin door, watching the countryside pass by. Lestat looked somewhat pensive.
“When we reach Charlotte, I am going to need him.”
“I am done with him. Take care of the body.”
“I will.” Daniel says and walks to the suitcase.
He opens up the suitcase and is greeted by the mangled yet still alive Bruce. He is breathing, glaring at Daniel. He really isn't as scary as he thinks he is, especially not with his body bent in half, backwards, the back of his thighs pushed against his back, his arms broken out of the shoulder sockets and pushed in the space between his back and legs.
Daniel grabs some of his clothes, his leather satchel, his camera, his notebook, and his wallet with all his IDs. He balls them up in his clothes and shoves it behind Bruce's head and closes the suitcase.
“Meet you in Atlanta.” Lestat hums noncommittally as the train stops. Daniel grabs the suitcase with Bruce in it and exits the cabin.
He will be waiting for the train in Atlanta. He will check in at the sleaziest motel, with the least amount of people he can find. He will make sure that people see his face, his clothes, and his suitcase. He'll pay with cash, all that he has. He'll chat with them, tell them about his job, Alice, his kid on the way, and how excited he is to be a father. He'll go to his room and change his clothes. He'll put his stuff by the closet, near the door, his wallet, a metal piece with his ID inside it. He'll put the clothes he was wearing on Bruce along with his wedding ring and then light the electrical on fire. He'll make sure Bruce burns and then jump out of the building and make sure a stranger sees the fire. He'll leave into the night just as the firefighters arrive.
A single night as a vampire and he is already ruining a human’s life and livelihood. But this is for Alice and Kate, so he cannot bring himself to stop. They'll get the body, a death certificate, and all the money Daniel left them. His parents would be called, and they too would look after Alice and Kate.
This is how it has to be.
For his family.
They are in his coffin. Together. Daniel and Lestat. Daniel on his side, and Lestat on his back, one of his arms around Daniel and the other supporting his head. Daniel is not going to pretend that he doesn't find Lestat attractive, and he knows Lestat finds him agreeable, physically at least.
The first kiss between them had cemented that. It was cold and rushed. Lestat kissed like he hated Daniel. Daniel liked that a lot. There were no what-ifs, no what-are-we, just pure hedonism. He felt like he was cheating on Alice, which he sure was. But was it really that way? Alice was free now from the burden of her pathetic husband. She'll find a better partner, someone who'll be a better father to Kate. He doesn't even mind if Kate wouldn't have his surname, if Alice gives her maiden name to Kate, or even another man's. He'll be more than fine knowing she is loved and protected. And he will know if she is protected, because God forbid, Alice's future partner hurts her or Kate, he'll be there to deal with them in the worst way possible.
Any complex feelings he has are subdued by the feel of Lestat's cock in his hand. Firm, rigid, cold. Daniel pumps his maker's cock in his hand as he feels his claw dig into Daniel's shoulder. He is close. Daniel keeps the momentum, methodically pumping the member. Lestat grunts as he comes, and Daniel realizes that vampires cum blood too as he brings his hand up to his mouth. Lestat hums as he watches Daniel lick his hand clean and then,
Rest
There was a blindfold on his eyes, his lover's body moved above his. A well built chest plastered to his back, as his lover moved inside him, his grunts of pleasure, music to Daniel's ears.
Daniel loved the weight of his lover. His unusually cold body, yet firm, like marble. Like the statue's at the Louvre. So masculine. Like, the personification of it. Daniel loves it. Daniel loves him. Daniel loves .
"Ahhhh." A long-drawn-out moan leaves Daniel's lips as his lover drags his cock out of him in a single stroke, his hole gaping as he whines at the loss.
" ?," Daniel whines out his lover's name as he feels his forehead on his shoulder blade. Sniffles. And then something wet. Tears. " ?"
Daniel's hand goes up to his eyes, to take off the blindfold and his whole body seizes. His lover takes in a rickety breath above him, as Daniel feels his hole open up under the force of his lover's cock, the entire thing fed to him in a single stroke, making Daniel gasp.
A hand between his shoulder blades shoves Daniel down as he begins to move again, his cold touch bruising Daniel's flesh. " ? Boss? Let me turn. Lemme–"
More tears fall on his back, trailing downwards, where he and his lover are connected. A hand caresses his hair; glasslike fingernails scrape over his scalp as the blindfold is lifted. Daniel is momentarily blinded, having to blink rapidly to adjust to the light. A hand reaches beneath Daniel's chest and roughly pushes him up and on his back, his lover's cold body pushing up against his, skin to skin, as if, just by thought alone, his lover could mold them into one.
is breathing in his scent as he licks his neck and drops a light kiss. Daniel feels his lover's lips ghost over the curve of his neck, moving like a butterfly, not quite touching him, and Daniel realizes he is saying something that he can't make out, his voice muffled by Daniel's neck.
"What?" Daniel asks as he wiggles to get free from the embrace. He grabs curls and tugs, trying to get his lover off of him. He feels sniffle in his neck and his arms tighten around him, caging Daniel so he cannot move.
"I am sorry. I am so sorry. I love you. I do. I love you so much. More than you think. But I can not. I am sorry. I love you."
"What are you talking about—Let me look." Daniel squirms as he tries to escape his lover's embrace as his arms clamp down around Daniel, still hiding his face in his neck. Daniel feels the familiar touch in his mind and panics as he realizes what is happening.
" ? No–" Daniel cried out as his efforts doubled so he could look at . "No! Let me up!"
"I am sorry. I love you."
Tears escape Daniel's eyes as he tries to buck him off, hitting his back to get him off and stop.
"Please don't cry, beloved. This is for your own good."
"No. It is not, you fucking coward. GET OFF ME!" Daniel cries as he holds for the last time, having stopped trying to escape and embraced his lover back. "Please don't take this from me. I love you. You don't have to turn me. But don't leave me. Please."
Daniel feels his lover reach into his mind and start to erase himself, as Daniel cries, as he himself cries, wetting Daniel's neck, and Daniel feels a perverse satisfaction that this just might be hurting him as much as it hurts Daniel.
"Is there someone else?"
"..."
"Of course there is. So what, this is a 'the other woman situation'?"
"You are the other woman."
That hurts. To be with someone for a fucking decade, and they demote you to the mistress. As if you meant nothing. Just a passing fancy. Any thought Daniel had of this hurting his lover just as much, leaves. What is a mere mortal, one riddled with problems, to a being such as him?
"You asked me, has this been worth it? Yes. It has. And it will always be, even after we go on our separate ways. If you remember me even a year after this, it would be worth it. If, even a decade after my death, you think of me, it would be worth it.
You were worth it.
I might not remember you, but you won't forget me. And what more could I want in this lifetime, but for you to remember me, even if I am not there?"
And Daniel feels it as his lover's face gets scratched out of his memory, nothing but a dark void now. A phantom limb that he will always chase but never find. And Daniel hates him for this. Daniel hates him. Daniel hates .
"I hate you."
"You should."