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Leo loved Claude who was a crown prince.
Leo loved Claude who was a baker.
Leo loved Claude who was a perfumer.
Leo loved Claude in every life.
Across countless lifetimes, Leo’s heart belonged to Claude. No matter the world, no matter the role, Leo loved Claude fiercely, weaving their story anew each time. Carried the weight of memory through every life.
He remembered Claude’s smile, his voice, the way his eyes softened. He also remembered the pain, watching Claude slip away over and over again.
Each death carved a wound in Leo’s soul, yet he never stopped searching. In every new life, Leo found Claude, fell in love again, and built their story from the ashes of the last.
How many lives had it been?
Leo had lost count, but his heart never wavered.
In this life, they found each other once again.
***
Claude’s eyes shimmered under the soft glow of the streetlamp, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze as he tilted his head. "Leo, do you think in every universe we are lovers too?"
Yes. This is my twentieth life and the twentieth time I've found and fallen in love with you as well.
Leo’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles along Claude’s cheek. "Maybe,” he murmured. “In another universe, in another life, I would find you. I would chase you through every star, every lifetime, and I would fall for you, every single time."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, and he leaned closer. His breath mingling with Claude’s before he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to his lips. The world seemed to pause, the distant hum of the city fading into nothingness, leaving only the soft press of their mouths and the quiet rhythm of their heartbeats.
Claude’s hands found Leo’s chest, his fingers curling into the fabric of Leo's jacket as he deepened the kiss with a quiet sigh escaping him.
When they finally parted, their foreheads rested together, noses brushing in a moment of shared stillness. "You make it sound so certain," Claude whispered, a playful lilt in his voice, though his eyes betrayed the depth of his hope. "Like we’re written in the stars."
Leo chuckled softly, the sound warm and rich, vibrating against Claude’s skin. "Maybe we are," he said, pulling back just enough to look into Claude’s eyes.
"Come on, let’s walk. I’m not done with you yet tonight." He took Claude’s hand. Their fingers interlocking naturally as they began to stroll down the quiet street, while the cool night air wrapping around them like a gentle embrace.
The city was alive, twinkling lights reflected in puddles from an earlier rain, and the faint strum of a busker’s guitar drifting from a nearby corner. Leo glanced at Claude, catching the way his lips quirked into a contented smile as he gazed at the sky. "What’s on your mind?" Leo asked, giving Claude’s hand a gentle squeeze.
Claude’s smile widened, he tilted his head to meet Leo’s gaze. "Nothing. Just you. Us. This." He gestured vaguely at the world around them, but his eyes stayed locked on Leo’s.
"Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky. Like, what did I do to deserve you in my life?"
Leo stopped walking, turning to face Claude fully with his expression softening. "Claude," he spoke, his voice low and earnest, “you don’t have to do anything to deserve this. You are you. That’s more than enough."
He reached up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Claude’s ear, his fingers lingering there as he studied him. "You’re the one who makes my world make sense. You know that, right?"
Claude’s cheeks flushed, he ducked his head. "You’re too good at this," he teased, but the way he leaned into Leo’s touch said everything his words didn’t.
Leo grinned, pulling Claude into a gentle embrace. Leo's arms wrapping around Claude as he rested his chin atop Claude’s head.
They stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, as if dancing to a melody only they could hear.
***
They walked again and ended up at a small cafe, their windows glowing with warm amber light. Inside, the air smelled of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans. They claimed a corner booth, sitting close enough that their knees brushed under the table. Leo ordered two hot chocolates piled high with whipped cream.
When the drinks arrived, Claude’s eyes lit up like a child. "You remembered the whipped cream," he said.
"Of course I did," Leo said, feigning offense. "I know my guy." He reached across the table, swiping a bit of whipped cream from Claude’s cup and dabbing it on the tip of Claude’s nose.
Claude gasped, before bursting into laughter. "You’re ridiculous," Claude said, wiping his nose but failing to hide his grin. He retaliated by flicking a tiny bit of whipped cream at Leo.
"Careful," Leo teased, his voice low and playful. "If you start a war, I’m not holding."
His thumb brushed over Claude’s wrist, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the playful spark in their eyes softening into something deeper, more tender. Leo leaned across the table, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Claude’s lips, tasting the faint sweetness of whipped cream. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he murmured against Claude’s mouth.
They lingered in the cafe, sharing stories and stealing sips from each other’s drinks, while their hands intertwined on the table.
Claude traced idle patterns on Leo’s palm, his touch light but deliberate as if memorizing the lines of his hand. "You ever think about the future?" Claude asked suddenly, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "Like… where we’ll be in ten years?"
Leo tilted his head, considering the question, his gaze never leaving Claude’s. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I see us in a little house somewhere, maybe with a garden you’d insist on tending, even though you’d forget to water the plants half the time."
Claude snorted, but Leo continued, his voice warm. "I see us cooking dinner together, arguing over who gets to pick the music. I see mornings where I wake up next to you, and you’re still there, stealing all the blankets. That’s what I want, Claude. You, me, and all the little moments."
Claude’s eyes glistened, and he squeezed Leo’s hand tightly. "You make it sound so real," he whispered. "Like it’s already ours."
"It will be," Leo said with quiet conviction. "I will make it happen. I would build a whole universe for you if I could."
Claude leaned forward, resting his forehead against Leo’s, his voice barely audible. "You already have."
***
They left the cafe hand in hand as the night deeper, the stars brighter above them. Leo draped his jacket over Claude’s shoulders when he noticed him shiver, Claude protested halfheartedly, only to pull the jacket tighter around himself, breathing in Leo’s familiar scent.
They wandered to a nearby park and finding a bench under a sprawling oak tree. Leo pulled Claude close, wrapping an arm around him as they sat, and Claude’s head resting against his shoulder.
"Look at that," Claude said softly, pointing to the sky where a single shooting star streaked across the darkness. "We should make a wish."
Leo smiled, pressing a kiss to Claude’s temple. "Don’t need to," he said. "Everything I wish for already right here."
But in his heart, Leo already made a wish.
"Please, let this time be different.
Please, let us have this life."
Claude turned to look at him, his expression a mix of adoration and disbelief. "How do you do that?" he asked. "Say things that make my heart feel like it’s going to burst?"
"Practice," Leo said with a grin, but his eyes were serious, filled with a love so steady it felt like an anchor. He cupped Claude’s face in his hands, kissing him slowly, deeply as if trying to pour every unspoken promise into the moment. Claude melted into him, his hands clutching Leo’s shirt, and when they pulled apart, they were both breathless, smiling like they’d discovered a secret only they shared.
They stayed there for hours, talking about everything. About dreams, fears, the silly quirks they loved about each other. The night stretched on, but neither wanted it to end, each moment weaving them closer, their bond a tapestry of shared laughter, quiet glances, and unwavering trust.
***
One day on a goofy day, where the air smells of damp earth and fading flowers, a man walks alone, his steps slow and deliberate as if each one carries the weight of a thousand unspoken words. In his hand, he holds a small bouquet of white lilies, their petals trembling in the faint autumn breeze.
The gravestones rise like silent sentinels, each one a story etched in stone. He weaves through them, his coat brushing against the grass, until he stops at one particular marker. The stone with the name of the person he loved the most. Claude Clawmark
He kneels, brushing a few stray leaves off the stone. His fingers lingering on the carved letters of the name. The familiar weight of grief settles in, not as sharp as it was a year ago, but heavy all the same.
"Hey," He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like he is afraid to disturb the silence. "It’s been a while, hasn’t it?"
The wind picks up, rustling the trees, and he can almost hear Claude's laugh in it, that soft and teasing sound he would make when he said something cheesy.
"Life’s been… okay, I guess. Work is still the same. Still arguing with my manager about deadlines." He smiles faintly, picturing Claude's face, those warm eyes that always saw right through him.
"Claude, I'm trying so hard to keep going like you want me to. Because you would hate it if I gave up, right? You probably would lecture me about how life’s too short to stop living." A bittersweet smile tugs at his lips. "You were always better at that stuff than me."
The man tries to smile, but at the same time his tears couldn't lie. "You were supposed to be my forever," he whispers. "We were supposed to grow old together. You haven’t seen what we’ll be like ten years like I promised you. So now, if not you, who else am I supposed to keep that promise to?"
The cemetery is empty, save for him and the ghosts. He pulls his coat tighter, the cold seeping into his skin, but he doesn’t move.
Leaving feels like betrayal, like admitting Claude is truly gone. So he stays, his silence a vigil, his presence a promise he can’t break. "I’m not mad at you for leaving," the man speaks with breaking voice. "How could I be? I know you fought so hard to stay, to give me every second you could, and every single day with you was more than I deserved, you know?" He is trying to laugh, but it more sounds like a broken sound that dissolves into a shudder.
"But, however long is it, it was never enough for me. I want you forever. I would give anything for one more day, I would give anything to see your smile again."
The lilies tremble in another gust of wind, one petal breaking free and drifting across the grass. He watches it go, his eyes distant, lost in a memory of hazel eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest nights.
The pain is a living thing, curling around his heart, squeezing until he can barely breathe.
He doesn’t want to say goodbye. He never does.
His hand brushes the top of the stone, then he leans forward, pressing his lips to the top of the gravestone. A kiss that holds all his promises, all his pain, all his devotion.
Then whispers, "Is it time to say 'see you in another life' again?" He takes a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I guess it’s time to say it again. See you in another life, love. Don't worry, I will find you again, love you again, over and over. In every life, I would still love you the same."
The clouds part, just for a moment, and a sliver of sunlight breaks through, warming the grass, the flowers, and the stone. He takes it as a sign, a whisper from Claude that he’s not alone.
The grief will never leave him, but neither will Claude’s love, and that’s enough to keep him moving forward.
Somewhere, in the spaces between heartbeats, he knows Claude is watching, waiting, until they can dance under the streetlights again.
***
One day.
In the clamor of the city, where the air hums with the chaos of honking horns and hurried footsteps, a man with dark gray hair weaves through the crowd. His steps are quick, almost instinctive, as if drawn by an unseen thread.
Then, he sees him.
Amid the swirl of faces, a flash of blond hair streaked with purple catches the light.
The man’s breath hitches.
It’s him.
The blond man leans against a lamppost, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the storm he’s stirred in the stranger’s chest.
The crowd surges around him, but the world narrows to that single figure. The gray haired man steps forward, his shoes scuffing the pavement, and before doubt can stop him, he reaches out, gripping the blond man’s arm gently but firmly. "Found you," he says. His voice raw, barely audible over the city’s din.
The man looks up. Confusion flashes across his face, but then it softens into a curious. "Uh sorry, do I know you?" he asks with such a light voice, tinged with amusement as he slips his phone into his pocket.
The crowd keeps moving, a blur around them, but the man just shrugs, still smiling. For a moment, it’s just the two of them, two souls who were always bound and destined to be together and love each other.
Oh, you found me, Leo.