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As Booker watched his family walk away from him, he couldn't help his eyes from being glued to you as you ascended the stairs. He accepted his fate, the fault of his betrayal, but the thought of not seeing you again, especially, for another hundred years made his chest ache. It was a familiar feeling but still distant, for he couldn't place it at that exact moment.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, he turned around to look over the river. He crouched down, feeling like his knees would give out from despair. He picked up a couple smooth stones after a few minutes and stood again. The river's waves and ripples were calm, slapping lightly against the rocks below his feet, as if trying to quiet the turbulent, crashing waves inside him.
Booker began skipping the stones in his hands across the smooth surface. A fleeting thought passed through his mind; he wished he could walk himself out into the river and end it right there. If only it would take. He exhaled a shaky breath and shook his head lightly, tossing out the last stone in his hand.
It was a mistake to get too into his head because it pulled his guard down. A metallic thud on the ground behind him made him turn around swiftly, going for the gun in his waistband. He relaxed slightly, hands falling to his sides, when he saw it was you, his face frowning.
"What are you doing?"
"What?" you shrugged, looking down at your dufflebag. "I needed to get my stuff."
"What? I-"
"It's not much, but I figure we can get more easily."
You tilted your head and smiled at him gently. His brows were still furrowed, truly incapable of grasping why you were there.
"I don't understand.."
"I'm coming with you," you said, as if it were obvious.
"You can't. I'm-I'm supposed to be alone. Exiled alone."
"Well, I decided I'd keep you company for a bit. If you annoy me I can always take a five or ten year break."
He was speechless. He truly didn't know what to say or do.
Your smile faltered slightly, but then grew in warmth. "Did you really think I would let you do this alone?"
"But then.. you won't see them again for a hundred years."
"Yes," you answered quietly, looking down.
"Why? Why would you do that?"
You let out a small laugh and looked up into his eyes. "Really, Book?"
He still looked confused, but maybe a little bit hopeful. He wasn't sure what he wanted to hear from you and he was trying to stop his heart from beating so hard.
You stepped towards him, coming so close he could feel your body heat, but still giving him space. "As if it wasn't painfully obvious?" you breathed.
He clenched his fists painfully at his sides, holding himself back from something he never would've admitted was there.
"Booker, I've loved you for a very long time, much longer than I thought I did. Maybe since I first laid eyes on you." You sniffled quietly but continued on, seeming like you needed to get your confession out, finally.. and he let you. "I know you've been lonely for such a long time and I can never replace the memory of your wife and sons, but the only thing worse than being without Andy or Nicky or Joe or Nile, is the thought of not waking up and seeing your face every morning for next one hundred years. I love my family, but I couldn't live to be without you for just one day. And if-if you don't feel the way I do, I'll go my separate way and meet up with you and them when our time is ready."
You let out a soft sob when you were done, looking tearfully into his eyes. The ache in his chest that he felt watching you walk away had blossomed into something warm- something he didn't realize he wanted. Something he hadn't let himself have the luxury of entertaining.
But he knew then.. He knew he felt the same and wanted the same thing as you. To not be away from you for another second or wait hundred years to hear your laugh again.
He took too long thinking though and you began to back away, panic and sadness sweeping over your features. Unable to bear the thought of losing you, he closed the distance between you, cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, and pressed his lips to yours.
It was if time had frozen and sped up all at the same time. Like the decades living alone, depressed, and bitter had melted away. All he knew was this moment and this feeling and he never wanted it to end.
Your lips were warm and soft as they moved against his, matching your movements as if you both had been doing this for ages. He didn't want you to break away but you both needed air. You rested your forehead on his, placing your fingers tightly wrapped around his arms.
"I love you, Sébastien."
"I love you, too, mon chèri, and I will forever more."