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My dear Louis, I swear to you that I will never forget you. I will never forget the kindness you extended to me. I will never forget that you, of all the sickness and cruelty in the world, you were the good. I am in eternal debt to you and I swear to you no one will ever replace you, no one will ever take your gift from me.
Legs bites the inside of his cheek until the sweet taste of blood fills his mouth. He picks up the next letter.
Louis, I’m sure you sigh each time you see I’m writing to you again, wherever you are. As hard as I try, which you need to believe me that I do, I can’t seem to rid my mind of you. Not that I want to forget you, but you had told me before that if something were to happen not to dwell. I’ve been dwelling. I’ve met someone else. We’re a couple now. I wonder if you know that? He is a very kind man, Louis. I think if you two had the chance to meet you would have enjoyed his company, enjoyed hearing the things he has to say. I feel awful. I don't deserve either of you, I never did. No matter what I do, there's always wrong in it. I can’t stick on the thought of you forever. I am tearing myself apart, Louis.
He picks up another paper.
I turned him into one of us, gave him the same gift you gave to me. Isn’t that wonderful? Legundo is his name. Isn’t it strange that both of your names start with an L? You look similar, too. You have the same eyes, oh, Louis, how I loved your eyes.. I shouldn’t compare you two… I was sick the first time him and I kissed.
The handwriting of the last note is messier than the others, it gets worse as it goes on, as if it were written in a hurry. Or through teary eyes, Owen’s vision cloudy as he writes letters to his past lover.
Legs shakes his head, running a hand over his hair. He drops the note haphazardly onto the table, ignoring the shaking in his hands, the tightness in his chest.
“What are you doing?” A voice comes from behind him, low and gravely. Legs breathes out a swear as he turns around and comes face to face with Owen.
“I didn’t-“ Legs voice comes out panicked, he takes a deep breath and tries again. “I didn’t know what they were.”
“But you kept reading, doctor. Didn’t you?” Anger flashes in Owen’s eyes and he takes a step back, stumbling on unsteady feet.
“It’s not fair.” Legs puts no air behind his words, they fall silent. “How long has it been?”
“Two hundred and four years since he died.” Owen sighs, wrapping his arms around himself. “I started writing the letters when you all came to Oakhurst, so four years for that, give or take.”
Legs nods, slow and calculated. He takes a long, painfully slow moment to think before opening his mouth again.
“It’s not.. I shouldn’t have kept reading them.” He finally says, holding his hand out for Owen to take. He does, it’s a sickeningly sweet gesture. Such small acts of intimacy always make Owen’s stomach turn. “But I can not keep living in his shadow.” There’s something final about his tone, Owen’s eyes widen and he holds onto Legundo’s hands tighter.
“You’re not! You snooped around enough to know that I’m not doing-“ Owen rambles, pulling Legs closer to himself.
“I didn’t say that.” Legs frowns, glancing to the side, he lets Owen bring him closer, lets his claws sink into the flesh of his hands, he’s decides to believe that Owen does it subconsciously.. He wouldn't hurt him on purpose. Not again.
“I’m saying that I can’t keep doing this,” He nods between them. “If you keep doing that.” He looks back to the desk where the pile of letters sit, their presence weighs heavy in the room. Owen looks away and Legs guides his face back, his touch light on Owen’s cheek, hardly touching him. “It’s not fair to me, it’s not fair to you.”
“Legs.” Owen tries to argue, it comes out as hardly a whimper. He’s crying now.
“And it’s not fair to him.” Legs finishes. Owen's soft cries turn into loud, heavy sobs. He trembles in Legundo’s arms, his legs nearly buckle under him. Legs holds him up, his hands carefully raking through Owen’s hair.
“Don’t.. don’t act like that.” Owen crumbles into Legs, who brings them both to sink to the ground, Owen lays curled around himself, his head barely touching Legundo’s leg. “You read enough. You know I don’t think that.”
“No, but I know that I’m still in his shadow. I know you.. love him, more than me.” Legs scowls as Owen opens his mouth and he covers Owen’s mouth with his hand, silencing him for a moment. “I let you turn me into something I never wanted to be.. you know how I feel about eternity. I’m here forever for you.”
“I know.” Owen sobs, spit and tears smear onto Legs hand. He doesn’t move it away, not yet. “I do love you, Legs. God, I do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Stop pitying yourself.” Legs murmurs, shaking his head as he looks down at Owen. He looks so small, he’s become so fragile recently. “I didn’t know you were sick after we.. after we kissed.” It sounds so cliche out loud, like something Legs would have discussed many, many years ago with his friends, during school, perhaps.
“I ran.” Owen mutters, turning his face to the ground, the cool wood soothing against his skin.
“You run a lot.” Legs sighs, bitter. “I didn’t know you were sick.”
“I just felt..” Owen groans, tangling his hand in his hair and pulling tightly. “He was the first person who had ever shown me kindness. He was a wonderful man.”
“Am I not?” Legs stands, Owen does not move. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even flicker his eyes towards Legundo. It infuriates him. “I told you what I was a long time ago.”
“You’re not a good person. You know that. I won’t lie to you, doctor.” Owen sighs, finally pushing himself into a sitting position, his legs pulled up close to his chest. Legs flinches at the words. Owen wipes his face dry. “I’m not- I’m not either.”
“I let you turn me into something I never wanted.” He repeats. “Eternity was- is my worst fear, but I’m facing it for you.”
Owen reaches his hand out shakily. Legs takes it within his own. “We are both awful. You know that.”
“Stop telling me how much lesser I am to him, Owen!” Legs cries, wrenching his hands away. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Owen is silent for a long moment, his hands find his hair again. Finally, what seems like an eternity later, long after Owen had started quietly crying again, he says.
“I wish he could’ve met you.”
The words come so quietly Legs hardly hears them, he has to ask for confirmation that Owen even spoke.
“You two would’ve gotten along wonderfully.” Is what he says again, instead of repeating himself. Legs sighs, deep and tired and lowers himself to the ground next to Owen again, Owen’s head falls onto his shoulder.
“I thought vampires could only die by stake?” Legs prompts, knowing all too well the reaction that he may get. Surprise floods his body when Owens' next words come out as gentle, instead of harsh shouts again.
“He should’ve.. there was just.” He makes a noise of discomfort. “There was nothing left, I saw him. All bones.. that was all that was left of my Louis..” Tears fall heavier, they soak through Legs coat.
“He may recover eventually… it’ll take time if it ever happens, if his soul manages to rebuild that body of his.”
“Is that why..”
“That’s why I won’t leave Oakhurst.” Owen whispers, voice shaky. “I need to wait for him.”
Legs swallows thickly, dreading the answer to the question he knows he must ask. “When.. if he comes back.. will you abandon me?” He pauses, digging his claws into his palm to keep himself from tearing up. “Am I a placeholder until he comes back?”
“No.. no.” Owen sighs, shifting himself closer to the doctor. “I hope you two get along together, I truly think you will.”
“Best of both worlds, huh?” Legs laughs softly, nudging Owen with his shoulder. Owen looks up to him, face dampened again.
“Ah.. I suppose so.” Owen shrugs, looking back to the ground. “I can’t force either of you to.. I wouldn’t want to. I don’t- I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You’ve got time Owen.” Legundo sighs. “I’m here for forever, there’s no need to.. rush this. Us.”
Owen nods, reaching out for Legundo’s hand. Owen runs his thumb across the palm, tracing lines in the skin.
“I miss him, Legs.”
“I know, I’m excited to meet him, when the time comes. If that means anything to you.” A tear falls down Legs’ face, he bites his tongue. He should shut up now, stop trying to prove himself worthy. “We should visit his grave sometime, if you’d like.”
“I don’t think I can handle that, not yet.” Owen mutters, burying his head into the crook of his elbow, he hides his face there. Legs hopes it's out of shame.
“Not yet?” Legs exhales, shaking his head. “You.. it’s been so long.”
“I didn’t let myself grieve properly.” Owen groans, almost as if he’s sick of explaining himself. As if Legs should understand him by now, hes had enough time.
“Two hundred years.” Legs sighs, he sounds tired. This conversation has happened many, many times.
“You don’t understand, you don’t know what it’s like to love someone so deeply.” Owen nearly shouts. “You don’t get it!”
Legs frowns. “I thought I did, I thought I did because of you. I try so hard, Owen. I let you talk to me about him all the time because I do understand. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t listen to you because it hurts me!” He pauses, glancing around. “I just.. I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a walk.. I’ll be back later.” With that, he leaves, footsteps heavy as he walks out the door. The door does not slam shut behind him, it’s closed gently.
Owen does not run after him.