They met the next morning at a small café in Greenwich Village—Kieran's choice, somewhere quiet where they could talk without interruption.
Aiden arrived first, nervous energy making him order and re-order his coffee three times before Kieran appeared.
"Sorry I'm late," Kieran said, though he was exactly on time. "I wasn't sure what to wear. I've been... out of society for a while. Fashion has changed considerably since I last paid attention."
He was wearing dark jeans and a simple black sweater, and he looked devastating. Several people in the café turned to stare.
"You look perfect," Aiden said, then blushed at his own boldness.
They sat, and for a moment, neither knew what to say.
"This is strange," Aiden finally admitted. "I feel like I should know everything about you, but I don't know anything. What's your favorite color? What music do you like? Do you drink coffee, or is that a vampire thing you can't do?"
Kieran smiled—the first real smile Aiden had seen from him, and it transformed his face from beautiful to luminous. "I can drink coffee. It doesn't do anything for me nutritionally, but I enjoy the taste. My favorite color..." He looked at Aiden. "Used to be gray, like storm clouds. But I'm reconsidering."
"Reconsidering?"
"Your eyes. They're brown with flecks of gold. That might be my new favorite."
Aiden's blush deepened. "Smooth."
"I've had a long time to practice."
They talked for hours. Kieran told him stories—carefully edited versions of his long existence, stories that wouldn't overwhelm. Aiden talked about his life, his family, his inexplicable feelings of waiting for something.
"So in my last life," Aiden said carefully, "we were together? Like, actually together?"
"Yes. You were human, then I turned you. We had three weeks as bonded vampires before you were killed."
"Only three weeks?"
"Three weeks of perfect happiness. Which made losing you even more devastating because I'd finally thought we had forever."
Aiden reached across the table, took Kieran's hand. "I'm sorry. For dying. For making you wait so long."
"It wasn't your fault. You died saving me. Taking a weapon meant for me." Kieran's hand tightened on his. "You've always been too brave for your own good. In every lifetime."
"Tell me about them. The other lifetimes."
So Kieran did. Told him about the monastery in 1024, about being a soldier, about dying in Kieran's arms the first time. About subsequent lives—as a merchant, a noble, an artist, a scholar. Different circumstances, different names, but always the same soul.
"And we always found each other?"
"Always. Sometimes I found you. Sometimes you found me. Sometimes it was fate, sometimes I engineered it. But we always found our way together."
"That's..." Aiden struggled with the enormity of it. "That's the most romantic and heartbreaking thing I've ever heard."
"It's my existence. Has been for a millennium."
They talked until the café closed, then walked through Greenwich Village, still talking. Kieran told stories that spanned centuries. Aiden asked a thousand questions.
"Do you drink blood from humans?"
"I can. But I prefer synthetic alternatives now. The modern world has made feeding much more ethical."
"Can you go out in sunlight?"
"No. Sunlight will kill me. It's one of the few things that can."
"Do you sleep in a coffin?"
Kieran laughed. "No. Regular bed. Very comfortable."
"Can you—" Aiden hesitated. "Can you read my mind? Control me?"
"I could, theoretically. But I never would. Your autonomy is sacred to me, Aiden. In every lifetime, I've waited for you to choose me. I've never forced or manipulated."
"Even though you could?"
"Especially because I could. Love means nothing if it's not freely given."
They stopped in Washington Square Park, sitting on a bench under the arch. October leaves fell around them like confetti.
"I like you," Aiden said suddenly. "Not because of past lives or soul bonds or destiny. I like you—who you are right now, in this moment."
Kieran looked at him with such hope and vulnerability that Aiden's heart ached. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. You're kind and thoughtful and heartbreakingly sad underneath all that ancient wisdom. And I want to get to know you better. Want to see where this goes."
"We can go slow," Kieran promised. "As slow as you need. I've waited nine hundred and twenty years. I can wait as long as you need to be sure."
"What if I don't want to go slow?"
Kieran's breath caught. "Aiden—"
"I'm not saying I want to jump into forever right now. But I also don't want to waste time being cautious when my soul is screaming that you're exactly where I'm supposed to be."
"Your soul remembers, even if your mind doesn't."
"Then maybe I should listen to my soul."
Aiden leaned in, giving Kieran plenty of time to pull away. But Kieran didn't pull away. He met Aiden halfway.
Their first kiss was gentle, careful, and absolutely electric. Not the desperate passion of lovers reunited, but the sweet discovery of something new.
When they broke apart, both were breathing hard.
"Wow," Aiden whispered.
"Yeah," Kieran agreed. "Wow."