Archive of Our Own ^beta

At 6:05 pm, Guillermo starts to feel strange. 

The sun’s already come down completely by now and, while the last drops of rain crash over the window next to him, he perceives the first beads of sweat on his forehead, like his body has suddenly decided to completely ignore the cool air of the train carriage.

He looks up from The Vampire Lestat, the book he was reading just until now, a little shocked and confused, starting to unbutton the collar of his shirt, frozen immediately when he sees him. In a crazy moment, the rest of the train abruptly blurs from his vision and the only thing he’s actually able to see is a pair of dark eyes, staring him back right into his soul. 

A shiver surprises Guillermo when the man, this weird-dressed, tall and objectively attractive man, turns his gaze and walks past him, a little goofy as he struggle to move with the big JanSport on his back, just to stop in front of the passenger seated at the other side of the corridor, opposite to Guillermo, to be exact.

He watches the man moving his right hand before the eyes of the other one and mumbling something he can't manage to catch. The passenger, to Guillermo’s surprise, gets up immediately and silently walks away; the tall man sits in his place, appearing satisfied with himself. 

Their eyes meet again, this time it seems like it is the stranger, actually, the one who’s looking for him. It’s just for a second, really, but it’s enough for Guillermo to exhale the breath he didn’t notice he was holding, his heart racing like hell inside his chest. He blinks a few times before lowering his gaze again and returning to his book like it was a matter of life and death and the novel is the only thing that could protect him. But protect from what? He wonders immediately, from the stranger? But he’s just a man, a man who is traveling with him and that he will never see again. 

With that insane concern in his mind, Guillermo stares at the pages for what appears to be an endless time, his brain doesn’t read a word that is written over them. He feels somehow pressured, actually, he feels like someone’s watching him that very moment, and he can actually bet a lot of money on whom.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, trying to find the courage to turn his head again and catch him right-handed, but when he does so, the man is looking out the window, badly pretending to enjoy the view — they are inside a tunnel. Guillermo raises his eyebrows as he watches the absurdity of his outfit, from the colorful shirt with ponies drawn on it, to the 70’s style trousers that, putted together with the boots coming out of them and the backpack he didn’t even left on the ground, seemed to be picked just so randomly, and blindly. 

He tells himself that’s the only reason the man got his attention, violently ignoring the irritating pounding of his heart. Tump tump; tump tump; tump tump. It seems unable to return to its normal beat. 

The man continues to look at the window, and Guillermo tries so hard to not stare, he tells himself to turn his head and watch anything else, really anything, look at the scratch in the seat in front of you, for the love of God, or – or observe this drop of rain running over the wet glass. Look at something before he caught you staring. But he can’t. He just can’t. Guillermo is – well, he is entranced. He’s mesmerized. He’s never been so mesmerized by something, or someone, actually, in all of his 25 years of life. He’s simply unable to look away. And maybe he doesn’t want to either.

The stranger appears so mysterious and weird to his eyes, thanks to his insanely dead-looking pale skin, but there’s still something so regal and confident and arrogant in him, he can see it in the way he’s sitting so still while looking out the window, for a start.

Guillermo, from his angle, is perfectly able to study his profile, thanks to the long and dark hair being tied in a very messy bun, his eyes first focused on the jaw covered by the beard, then lowered without a warning just to perfectly catch his chest-hair and the long necklace escaping from the shirt. Finally he feels his face on fire and looks away, anxious. 

What the hell was he doing? What was he thinking? The last days of traveling have managed to drain him to death, that’s the only explanation for his behavior, really. He’s tired. He’s just tired. He has spent the last five days in Italy, got his heart brutally broken only twenty-two? twenty-one hours ago?, didn’t rest a minute and almost lost the train that would bring him – hopefully – to the airport. He didn’t rest a minute, he hasn’t slept in two days, of course he’s tired and can’t control his mind. That’s what it is. He’s tired.

He’s really, really tired, that’s all. It’s not like he’s searching for the most beautiful man he has ever seen in person’s reflection on his window. Wait. What the fuck was that? The most what now? He’s not thinking straight. And that’s quite— literally. He’s literally not thinking straight. To prove that, is the fact he fails to see the stranger’s reflection. Man, if he needs to sleep. 

“Mi scusiExcuse me,” a female’s voice thankfully interrupts his thoughts, and his panic, all of sudden; Guillermo takes advantage to regular his breath again. He takes a few deep breaths, then can’t really help himself and turns his head, curious, finding a woman standing in front of the stranger, the previous passenger at her side.

“Il signore rivorrebbe il suo posto.This man wants his seat back” The hostess continues in her first language, attentive observing the man head to toe. “Può mostrarmi il suo biglietto?”

“What?” The man says, looking confused, not understanding a word of italian and revealing an accent Guillermo hasn’t ever heard.

“Can you show me your ticket, sir, please?” The hostess repeats in english.

“There’s no need for me to show you the ticket!” The man replies, a hand in the air that moves before the woman’s eyes.

Guillermo looks at them in shock, already expecting new problems to come, but to his surprise, the hostess just nods. “Okay.” She says, simply, then blinks. “Can you leave the seat for the passenger?”

“Ho pagato per quel posto!” The other man talks for the first time, not hiding his anger for the inconvenience.

“He paid for that, sir,” the hostess translates with a sigh.

The man opens his mouth, probably ready to give an obstinate reply, but Guillermo’s more quick. “This seat is all yours, if you want, sir,” he says out loud before connecting his brain cells. What. The. Fuck.

He blushes immediately, feeling all of the eyes on himself — and that means the eyes of the whole carriage because of course he’s not the only passenger paying attention to the exchange — and swallows with shyness, cursing his stupid mouth for having talked without his permission. 

The man, the object of his unexpected madness, observes him in silence, Guillermo’s the only one to notice, the only one who’s looking at him, their eyes locked and unable to break the contact. He feels hot, they’re in the middle of november on a train with a heating problem and he feels hot; he feels like he has fire in his blood, the veins making his whole body burning.

The man doesn’t say anything to the hostess, doesn’t apologize to the other passenger — that’s waiting for him to leave the seat, tapping his right foot on the ground, arms crossed to his chest — just stands up and nods to Guillermo, while taking the spot next to him.

“This is so much better!” He exhales peacefully, mostly to himself, making any sense, Guillermo thinks, since all of the seats are exactly the same. He puts his hands on the armrests — his left elbow brushes Guillermo’s making him shiver — and tilts his head back, closing his eyes, pretending to rest. 

Guillermo tries to resist the urge to lower his gaze, but once again his body decides for him to stare directly at the man’s hand close to his, his fingers and the looking-ancient rings the man’s wearing. He finds himself nervously pondering the size of his hands, so close to entering in a dangerous train of thoughts he really doesn’t want to explore right now, or ever, when the stranger opens his eyes, obviously, grinning as he finds Guillermo watching him with his mouth half opened like the idiot he is. 

“And who is the generous knight I have the pleasure to thank for the courtesy?” 

Guillermo’s heart misses a beat, he feels both on the verge of tears and like he’d probably fall to the ground if he wasn’t seated. 

“I am not a Guillermo,” he says, his cheeks on fire. “I mean knight. That’s my name. Not knight. Guillermo’s my– I’m Guillermo. Just Guillermo, not a knight.” He babbles like a mad man, shaking a little for the embarrassment and trying to cover it up ducking his head and gesturing with his hands. “A-and it was nothing, really.”

“It was not!” The man argues firmly, which makes Guillermo even more uncomfortable. “They were being so disrespectful to me, in other times I’d asked for their heads to be placed as the centerpiece of my table during a feast in my honor.” 

Guillermo chuckles at that, not that he really finds it funny, he just wants to be polite. Just that. He laughs softly, with courtesy, but the man’s dead-serious’ eyes immediately shuts him up. Is he actually serious? It seems pretty much so. He frowns, staring into his death soul. His– death soul. He doesn’t know why that’s the only word coming to his mind. Death. That man, that beautiful and enchanted man, reminds him of death. 

“Who the hell are you,” the whisper comes out his mouth before he notices it. The man hears it anyway, his grin wides, his eyes sparkles mischievously in gold; Guillermo senses a chill down his spine and goosebumps all over his arms as he notices the long canines of the stranger, more similar to animal fangs than human teeth. Suddenly he remembers his sweet and dearly abuela’s bedtime stories and understands immediately. 

“You have the privilege to meet the great warrior Nandor the Relentless, little man.” The man says proudly, poking at his own chest with a finger, not a clue about what’s happening into Guillermo’s mind. And it’s happening a lot. The fangs, the reflection, the hypnosis. The fact that, sitting this close, he can perfectly see how the man’s chest remains completely calm and still, doesn’t exhale a single breath. 

He doesn’t dare to tell him he has never heard his name before, especially not when he's being impressed for an entirely different matter. Guillermo’s eyes wide in shock. “You are a vampire.”

The man— Nandor, almost jumps on his spot, looking at him with apprehension. “Shit!” He exclaims, then reconsiders it. “Don’t be silly, of course I am not a vampire.” He imitates a laugh, Guillermo takes the advantage to look better at his fangs; then smiles and points at them.

“Yes, look at those things!” He affirms, excited. “You are a vampire!”

“Shhh!” Nandor tries again, looking around and waving one hand in the direction of the only woman in the carriage who’s staring at the two of them. “Keep your voice down, we are a very secret species. We don’t like to draw attention.” Guillermo looks once again at the way he’s dressed, deciding it is for the best to not point at the fact that is not the best way to keep a lower profile. “Shit,” he continues, “now I have to kill you, are you happy?”

“W-what? No–” 

“Although,” the vampire starts, pinching his beard and ignoring him completely, “you helped me without asking anything back, and I’m a warrior before a vampire, and a warrior needs to stick to his code. And the code is telling me it is not right to kill you.” Guillermo exhales a breath, Nandor doesn’t notice his relief, lost in his thoughts. “So I better erase your memory, then.”

“What, no!” Guillermo squeaks in panic. He has waited for his entire life for a moment like this, now he has proof vampires do exist and live among them. He won’t permit that to be ripped away from him. “No, no— wait, I. I will not tell anyone, I swear to God!”

Nandor hisses in pain. “Don’t say that!”

The human looks confused for a second, then realizes. Right. Holy things and immortal creatures must not get along. “Oh, sorry.” He says, little smoke evaporates from the vampire’s body. It’s fascinating, in truth.  “I just love vampires. I really, really love vampires. See?” He shows him the book he was reading: the second novel of the Vampire’s Chronicles’ series.

Nandor rolls his eyes. “That’s complete shit!” He comments, outraged. Guillermo stops smiling, a little hurt. “The author has clearly never met a vampire in her entire life. There’s a lot of inaccuracies, you know? If you want a story about a real vampire, you have to try this one.” And with that, he starts searching for something inside his backpack, struggling just a little and cursing a few times. At least he seems to have forgotten what he wanted to do about Guillermo’s memory, that’s a relief. “Ah!” He finally hands him a copy of a very old book, the cover’s all scratched and the pages coloured entirely in yellow; Guillermo takes it cautiously, then gives him a look.

“Richard III?” He reads, Nandor just nods with a smile. “Seriously? There are no vampires in this one.”

“They were, originally,” the vampire explains, “but then the author changed it because the audience didn’t like it. Stupid and uneducated folks, I didn’t eat them just because I have taste.” 

“You were there?” Guillermo asks, completely ignoring the eating part, trilling for just the notion of Nandor being older by at least five centuries, the notion of him being present at Shakespeare’s plays in the good old Elizabethan London. 

“Of course, dear William was a friend of mine. Always searching for the most interesting stories to tell, it’s obvious he wanted to write about me too.”

Guillermo looks at him, then at the book, then again back to Nandor. He blinks a few times, connecting the dots. It can’t be. Can it? He must have misunderstood. “Wait,” he breathes, confused, “are you really saying that-”

“Yes,” Nandor precedes him, smiling proudly. “It is based on me.” 

The human shakes his head, of course he doesn’t believe him. He’s just making fun of him, of course. Guillermo never liked being treated as an idiot. Is he naive? Probably, but not an idiot. “Nah, you’re fooling me.” He says, a little petty. He can feel in his bones that Nandor is a supernatural and immortal creature, he can believe that without a problem, but this somehow appears too much in his eyes. Too crazy to think. Maybe Guillermo’s just being stupid for drawing the line at something like that, he considers. 

Nandor, anyway, looks offended. He wrinkles his nose and takes the book back from Guillermo, a little too harsh, perhaps. Guillermo almost feels sorry for having spoken and hurted him. “It is the truth.” He affirms, head up, insulted.

Now Guillermo definitely feels sorry. Mierda, why does he feel sorry? He’s talking to a fucking vampire. “B-but.” He starts, uncertain. “But if I remember right, Richard was a monster.”

“Yes.” Vampires are monsters, after all, Guillermo thinks. This can’t really surprise him.

“But,” he tries again, like he’s trying to convince Nandor and not himself. “He slaughtered many. His enemies, his allies. Even his family.” And he was one of his favorite subjects to study in high school. But he doesn’t say it, the last thing he needs is letting Nandor know he has a soft spot for completely deranged characters.

Nandor shrugs, now a little uncomfortable. “Well, you know,” he gestures with one hand, making it seem like it was nothing really, nothing meaningful at all. Guillermo doesn’t buy it. “I was a conqueror, I literally told you: I was relentless.” Guillermo nods, at least he’s using the past. “I did what I had to do, and eventually they turned against me and I was banished from my own country.” He doesn’t seem ashamed, though, only pissed for how the event turned out. And sad, but for a moment so quick that Guillermo thinks he imagined it. 

Guillermo remains silent, his mind assimilating the notions this random stranger just gave to him. He doesn’t know how to feel, it doesn’t happen often to hear something like that. To meet someone like him. 

Is he supposed to feel disgusted? Angry? Judgy? Is the right thing to do just stand up and search for another seat? His common sense tells him yes, but every inch of his body refuses to leave the man in front of him. A man he has just met, for fuck’s sake. That’s insane.

Nandor misunderstands his silence and looks at him in pity, maybe regretting having opened up without thinking. “I understand if you are scared of me, now.” He sighs.

Guillermo blinks at him, lost. So, is that what he’s meant to feel? Scared of him? Of, well, a vampire who has killed members of his own family? Of course that’s what a normal person would’ve felt in his shoes. But not him. Hell, Guillermo knows he’s being reckless (or better, very stupid), and morally wrong (read: why the fuck are you being interested in a killer?), but this encounter is literally the only exciting thing that has ever happened to him. Is that bad? That he just wants to sit there and listen to ancient stories of a hundreds years old man? Yes, he knows it is bad. But he decides to ignore the annoying voice telling him that.

“What– I am not.” He replies, surprising even himself for how decided his voice sounded. “I’m not scared of you.” And, well, he gives a rapid look at the ponies on Nandor’s shirt. Yes, he’s sure. He’s not scared at all.

But Nandor raises his eyebrows, eyes wide. He’s not one used to being surprised, Guillermo can tell. “Really? Are you completely sure?” He asks, there’s something in his voice, something in between offense and relief. 

Guillermo nods. “Are you still planning to cancel my memory?”

Nandor seems to reflect on that, the human remains silent again, waiting for the sentence knowing perfectly it will change the whole trajectory of his life, in one way or another. He waits, every word he could use to convince the vampire to spare him would be vain and pointless, he knows that. He doesn't know, however, what to do in the worst case scenario. He trusts him. He doesn’t. For some foolish reason, he has actually faith in this – in this fucking vampire.

“No, I will not.” Nandor says, eventually. “You have my word.” 

The sentence’s the one he was hoping for, but what happens next, exactly?

For now, Guillermo smiles, softens a little when Nandor imitates him. “Tell me another story of yours.”

Nandor’s smile wides even more, he claps his hands excitedly and turns his entire body to Guillermo, looking right into his eyes as he speaks. “I could tell you about my encounter with the good-old Lev. He was an author too, but probably too fond of himself to write his lead character over me. Seducing him was not enough, apparently, you see–”

*

“So, what you are saying is-” they’re been talking for almost an hour, well, Nandor did the talking for most of the time and Guillermo simply payed attention of every word coming out of the vampire’s mouth, nodding with fervor and gasping and asking all sort of questions. This while trying to ignore the other passengers giving them annoyed looks as their chatting became more and more enthusiastic, not their fault if they’re sharing the seat with boring people. Jesus. “Vampires are not the only supernatural creatures out there and werewolves, witches, warlocks and babadooks too are everywhere among us.”

“And not just them, obviously, have you heard about the Jersey Devil?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, shaking his head. “But you also said that ghosts aren’t real.”

“Exactly.”

Guillermo tries to shut his mouth, especially when Nandor is smiling at him like an old professor proud of his best student. And he’s his best student. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

Nandor’s smile immediately falls off, his eyes darkest again, offended. “How’s that so?”

Guillermo breathes and scratches his head before answering. Can't believe he’s the one who has to explain that to him. A vampire. “I mean, why not ghosts? Devils are real, and fairies are real, and warlocks, zombies a-and lycanthropes. But you draw the line at ghosts?”

The vampire huffs in response, Guillermo hopes he didn’t just upset him for good. Vampires are that sensitive? He’s not sure. How can he, anyway? Until an hour ago he thought vampires were fantasies. “Well, I can tell you that never, in my almost eight hundred years, I have seen a ghost. That must mean something, don’t you think, little one?”

He doesn’t know if he’s blushing again for Nandor’s authoritarian tone or simply for the “little one” appellative, but he feels stupid either way. And also he immediately forgets about ghosts, as he almost screams “You are eight hundred years old?!” 

“I said almost,” Nandor snorts, misunderstanding his surprise.

“You don’t look that old.” What. Is. He. Doing. Is he really– flirting with– with this unfairly handsome vampire? And he’s really bad at it, to make it worse. He was always really bad at it, he literally never had a boyfriend – not a real real boyfriend – so that does not come as a shock. Still. 

Nandor, anyway, seems immensely flattered by that, his eyes shine and he sits so still all of sudden that Guillermo thought for a moment he would have cracked his back. “I am glad to hear that,” he says, heads up; Guillermo’s jaw drops. Not like he was expecting a flirt back or. Something. He didn’t hope so. But that’s an incredibly smug reply for such surprised eyes. It feels like he’s hiding his real feelings with that attitude. Or maybe he’s just that self centered. How would Guillermo know?

“Anytime!” The human replies, not able to contain that little bitterness in his voice. He’s tired, okay? He’s hungry, he needs to pee. His back and his ass hurt like hell for having been seated in the same spot for hours. Lord, he needs to stretch so bad.

The vampire doesn’t reply, Guillermo doesn’t see how he’s checking on him with the corner of his eye, not blinking, not breathing (obviously), not moving a muscle. He probably wants to say something, already missing their chat, but doesn’t open his mouth anyway.

They sit in silence for the first time since Nandor has joined him, Guillermo notices only now that the train has stopped for a very long time. But it’s too early, it can’t be their destination yet. He looks around, watching other passengers starting to complain with fury, most of them in italian. Guillermo doesn’t understand much, only some words similar to spanish, but he’s sure most of them are blasphemy. 

“Fuck, I think we’re stuck.” He exclaims, not to Nandor though, even if the vampire flinches at the sound of his voice. To confirm his thoughts, the hostess from before comes back to say they’re having some problems and don’t know how much it will take to fix everything and take off again. “Fuck.” Guillermo repeats with a sigh. 

Nandor looks around for the first time, seems to consider their situation and opens his mouth to say something. Guillermo sees him, but doesn’t add a word. Just waits, Nandor has to earn his time again, he thinks with a determination he doesn’t recognize. 

“I was thinking–” he starts, hesitant. Guillermo breaths out in surprise, but continues to remain silent. Nandor makes a silly noise in his throat, maybe he’s disappointed by him, maybe he’s not used to being treated like he’s not the sun at the center of everyone’s universe. Guillermo looks at his hands again, this time at the way he’s playing with one of his rings, nervous. He tries so hard to keep his mouth shut. “I was thinking,” he repeats more firmly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I have no place to be at the moment. Not with urgency, at least.” Guillermo wonders if that’s normal for a vampire, but doesn’t ask. “And I happen to have enjoyed our chatting, I know it’s the same for you, so why don’t we just– get off this hell and spent the night in whatever the fuck we are? You could take the first train tomorrow morning and I could just wait until dark.”

He doesn’t even look at him and what the fuck.

Guillermo feels his mouth suddenly dry, doesn’t really know what to say. 

He thinks, first, that’s insane. He doesn’t trust a vampire. He can’t trust him. He wants to. He wants to trust, not the vampire but the man. He really wants to trust Nandor. Maybe he does already. He looks at him and he can tell he won’t kill him. Guillermo doesn’t know what makes him think that, but he can feel it in his gut. But he can’t really say yes, and where will they go anyway? He thinks at all the money he has spent on that trip, he’s completely broke now, that’s why he booked a flight in two days, with the prospect to stay at least one night at the airport. Maybe spending the night with Nandor isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe it is a terrible idea. Jesus if he wants to. He wants to just walk and look around and talk, nothing else, really, that’s enough for Guillermo. Talk, and ask questions about vampires, feeding his youngest and teenage self, so obsessed with that world. 

He wants to walk away with him. He doesn’t want to. 

He thinks about Marco, the guy who broke his heart only the day before and convinced him to run away with the first train he would have found. He thinks about Nandor telling him he’s a killer, always has been.

He believed in Marco’s love words. His instinct is telling him to trust a killer.

“Will you, uhm, will you kill me?” 

Nandor already takes it in an affirmative response, he gets up, stretches, takes his backpack and then, Guillermo feeling goosebumps all over his arms, holds out his hand for him to take it.

“No.”

Tump tump; tump tump; tump tump.

Guillermo takes his hand.

*

Firstly, he makes sure his last money is enough to buy another ticket for tomorrow morning. It is, and he manages to save 10€ even so that’s a win win! He has to be in the station at 05:41 am but he chose to not see it as a problem, since he won’t have to actually wake up that early because ain’t no way they could find a B&B to rest with no cash.

He should ask Nandor, perhaps, but no. That’s not a good idea. And also he doesn’t think Nandor wants to spend his time in a hotel room. With him. Nope, not a good idea to ask him.

Also he’s a vampire. He doesn’t sleep during the night. He would be just pointless. 

“So, where are we anyway?” He asks Nandor after he finally had the time to go to pee. They have left their bags at the station, Guillermo taking only his jacket and his favorite beanie and the vampire wearing a long red coat which seems really warm, actually: they’re still inside the station but it’s freezing. “Didn’t think you needed it.” Guillermo says like an idiot, pointing at the coat. Watching him now feels different, no ponies in sights, his figure appearing even more tall than he was. It suits Nandor perfectly, he thinks, embracing his regal features and giving him finally justice. He looks stunning.

Yet, those stupid and old fashioned jeans.

“Of course I do!” Nandor replies with an offended noise. “We have lower temperatures than humans but we still feel cold and hot temperatures, you know.” He adds like Guillermo should have known better. The human rolls his eyes, instantly. Nandor cocks his eyebrows but doesn’t argue. “What are you looking at?” He asks instead, Guillermo’s eyes still focused on the contrast between his coat and the jeans.

“Uhm,” he bubbles, agitated. “Nothing. I mean,” and with a gesture he starts to walk to the exit; Nandor follows him. “It’s just. Your coat is different from your clothes?” He doesn’t know why he says it like a question, Guillermo really feels stupid enough for being caught watching him. I mean, the clothes. 

“It’s because these are my human clothes, I don’t usually wear them but I’m on a trip and I needed a disguise.” Human clothes, Guillermo repeats in his mind. Right, makes sense. Surprisingly. “Ooh, Florence!” Nandor exclaims, then, looking around. “I like Florence!”

Guillermo opens his mouth in disbelief. It’s obviously dark outside but they can see the famous Brunelleschi Dome from a distance, standing there in all of its beauty, like a protector of the city. They are in Florence. He was in Rome with Marco in the morning and now he’s in Florence. With a stranger he met like an hour ago on the train. He must have lost his fucking mind.

“Madre de Dios,” he thinks out loud. What is he even doing there.

Nandor turns around to see the look on his face. He smiles softly, unaware of all that’s going on in Guillermo’s mind at the moment. Excitement, fear, worry, happiness, peace, anxiety. He reminds himself to breathe some air, some italian and florentine air, as the vampire talks to him. “You’ve never been here?”

Guillermo nervously chuckles at that question. “I’ve never been to any place before last week.”

“Would you like to visit it with me for the first time, then?” The vampire’s voice sounds just a little trembling, but Guillermo doesn’t really pay attention. His eyes still fixed on the Dome, like he was under some spell. Then, he realizes Nandor is actually waiting for an answer so he hurries to nod. Of course he nods.

Nandor takes his hand again, the feeling that he’s doing it because otherwise Guillermo wouldn’t have moved a single muscle. He lets it go, in fact, almost immediately when the human seems to wake up from his dream. 

Guillermo feels the loss, in the very moment, then curses himself for being a stupid idiot and shakes his head. He really needs to focus. 

“You’ve already been there, if I understand?” He asks Nandor just to have something to occupy his mind, and also to not walk in completely silent. There’s nothing more awkward than that in his opinion.

“Yes, a very long time ago and only for a couple of weeks. It was already beautiful back then and it didn’t feel right to even think of pillaging it. Nadja always said that there’s a painting of her in the Uffizi’s gallery and wanted to see it but never got the chance. Or was it a sculpture, maybe? I’m not sure, I wasn’t paying attention, but anyway I promised her we would have visited the city someday and here I am, finally. Although the whole point was for her to come here, not me.” 

Guillermo doesn’t interrupt his soliloquy, Nandor seems to talk with himself anyway, and he isn’t really listening to him. Nadja, he thinks, who’s Nadja? Of course, Guillermo should’ve known better. Of course Nandor has a– girlfriend? Wife? Special someone? What was he even dreaming about? That a random dude would’ve fallen in love with him after chatting for, like, one hour? Or less? Chatting about stupid stuff?

Why is he behaving like a teenager all of sudden, for Christ’s sake? 

“So,” he coughs a little awkwardly, Nandor stops talking – Jesus if Nandor likes to talk. “Why isn’t your wife with you?” Andale, Memo. The hell are you saying?

Nandor looks at him in surprise, doesn't understand the change of the subject. Well, not that Guillermo was really paying attention, he has no idea what the vampire was talking about. “My– well they’re all dead?” He replies, pinching his beard. Guillermo feels stupid, and bad, really bad. He really had to put the dead wife right on the table. Wait, did he say– there were more than one? And they are all dead? Guillermo looks suspiciously at him, shifting a little, making some distance between them. Just a bit, really. He’s sure Nandor doesn’t even notice. 

“Did you eat them? Did you eat Nadja?”

“What the fuck is that about?” Nandor asks, raising his voice. Some tourists give them a look. “I did not eat any of my 37 wives and I did not eat Nadja. Eeesh, I am not a cannibal, are you into that shit?”

“You are a vampire, you could’ve eaten th– have you said thirty-seven?”

“Yes, I was married only once with 37 wives. That was before my turning, anyway, really a long time ago. And no, vampires do not eat other vampires. Again, are you into the cannibal kink? I’m not judging. Well, maybe a little bit. But I have seen worse than that with Laszlo.”

Who’s Laszlo now? “Who– no, I’m not into cannibalism. Jesus Christ– uhm, fuck, I’m so sorry. Fuck.” Nandor hisses in pain a couple of times, Guillermo bites his mouth and tries to remain shut. He’s really close to winning the prize of the ultimate idiot in the whole world. At least that’s how he feels right now. 

He takes off his glasses and scratches his eyes. Breathe in, Memo. Breathe out. You got this, it’s not so different from talking with Jeremy, or Celeste, or Jenna. Yes, they’re all a bunch of dorks but. Jesus this man’s wearing a shirt with ponies, remember?

“I’m sorry, Nandor.” He apologies again, the vampire snorts but doesn’t eat him, at least. Guillermo truly appreciates it. The bar is so damn low. “So. You had 37 wives when you were human, right?” Nandor nods. Okay, one mystery solved. “And this Nadja is a vampire, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Right. So. Mh. Is she your – I don’t know, lover or something?”

“Not in this century, why are you asking?”

“Because I–” but he stops, feeling dumb already. “I–” Guillermo repeats, searching for a thing to say, anything really, anything would be more intelligent than what he was thinking, what he was about to say. Nothing comes to his mind, Nandor keeps looking at him, waiting, making him nervous. Or, more nervous than he already was. “I just want to know you, I guess,” he says at the end, trying to sound cool. That’s better than admitting that Nandor has bewitched him and now he wants to be a part of his life. Even for a second, and through his stories. Nothing more. He’s craving for stories, for Nandor’s story. He’s craving for anything from that vampire.

But on his behalf, Nandor opens his mouth like Guillermo has just said the most shocking thing. The human blinks in return, not understanding the reason for his surprise. Starting to worry, actually, that he may have offended him. 

“Oh,” that’s the only thing the vampire seems able to reply, still looking at Guillermo like he’s expecting him to say he was just joking. 

“You seem surprised,” Guillermo notices, then, and that’s an understatement.

“Well,” Nandor starts, cleaning his voice, “It’s been a while.” He doesn’t add anything else, Guillermo frowns and remains silent. A while since the last time someone has ever shown interest in him? That’s– bullshit. He can’t really believe it. But Nandor seems pretty much sincere, showing even a little bit of embarrassment for having to admit that. Guillermo wants to put a hand on his shoulder and caress him softly to comfort him. He wants to, he seriously wants to, but of course he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t know if he’s even allowed to think about it. “So,” Nandor continues, raising his voice and sounding more confident than a second early. “What do you want to know?”

Everything, Guillermo replies in his mind. “Who are the people you mentioned? Nadja and Las– Laszlo?”

Nandor nods. “My housemates.” He explains. “We used to live and spent all the time together, traveling from town to town, then we moved to Europe, to Paris, and it was unbearable even to be around their fucking love nest. Eeesh, it was getting me nauseous, so I told them I needed some time alone and they were like ‘Oh, okay. Send us a postcard!’ and that was it.”

He doesn’t notice to have raised his voice, or maybe he doesn’t care. Nandor starts to gesticulate, also, remarking every word with a firm movement of his hands. He probably thinks to look like a leader, someone to be afraid of, and probably there was a time when it was like that but now. Guillermo’s jaw begins to hurt to repress a smile. It’s probably because of his soft accent, or the way he tries to imitate his friends’ voice, but he can’t take him seriously. That’s insane all considered, he thought the guy had eaten his own wives just now.

“You seem pissed.” 

“I am not. To be pissed I should actually care in the first place and I do not care about them. They can try to beg me to return home, but I won’t. I’m glad to have time for myself for once.”

Guillermo shakes his head and hides a smile, then seems to reconsider it. “So you’re on a trip on your own? For how long?” He asks.

“It’s been, I think, eight months since I started my journey. No, nine, actually.” So, he’s been alone for almost a year, Guillermo bites his tongue to not point out the obvious. It’s — well, it’s sad. “And I’m doing absolutely fine, if you’re wondering,” he adds immediately, reading into his thoughts probably by the sympathetic look on his face. “It is me the only company I need.”

Nandor accompanies those words with a small and firmly poke at his own chest, completely ignoring that it came like a slap into Guillermo’s face, hurting him surely more than necessary. They’re not even friends, for Christ’s sake, there’s no reason for him to be offended by it, it’s obvious that he’s just a nobody. Someone that Nandor will forget in a couple of weeks, maybe early. Guillermo has literally no right to feel hurt by it, but he can’t help it. Why is Nandor even with him, then? Why is he spending time with him? Was he just bored? Nine months by himself sounds boring, other than sad. And maybe he wasn’t even sad, he has to stop feeling bad for a fucking vampire.

“Seems fair,” he sighs, probably sounding more upset than he wanted to. He’s just being stupid, as always. 

Fucking hell.

Nandor blinks and immediately turns his head, Guillermo feels his gaze but keeps his head down, eyes to the street, cold pitching over his face, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Of course I didn’t mean–” Nandor starts, stopping almost immediately, his right hand nearly touching Guillermo’s left shoulder before he changes his mind. “You know.” He doesn’t, though, he doesn’t know anything anymore, his universe appears to be upside down. “I didn’t mean that.” The vampire concludes with a snort, like he’s the one who should be offended by Guillermo’s reaction. The human can’t really believe him.

“What about you?” Nandor says, suddenly, like he’s quickly searching for an excuse to change the topic. “Why are you here? You don’t sound italian.”

Guillermo is not sure he’s actually curious to know him, he doesn’t want to dream for it, but shrugs and decides to play along anyway, he has nothing to lose and it seems only fair to open up about his life just like Nandor did. At least just a little.

“I’m from New York, actually, I live there with my mum. I’m here because I wanted to surprise someone, I guess” he says, regretting everything from the choices of words to the actual choice of travel to Italy without a real and practical plan, but Nandor seems suddenly interested and smirks, showing his fangs. 

“Ooohh wow, it is a true love’s venture then!” He states, enthusiastically. “A journey for you to be reunited with your one true love, they must be really special if you come all this way.”

The laughs just ran off Guillermo’s mouth before he could even try to stop it. “Riiight,” he keeps giggling, probably looking like a fool, Nandor observes him cautiously. “I thought so, yeah, but he wasn’t on the same page.” He sighs, now calm. Probably it’s for the best to tell him the whole story at this point. “Me and Marco have never seen each other before last week. We met online, we became close, we started calling ourselves boyfriends. In a couple of days it will be his birthday so, you know. I had some saves and I bought a ticket without saying a word to him. I flew from New York to Rome without saying a word to him, I thought it would’ve been cute, you know. A birthday’s surprise from your long distance boyfriend, but it didn’t go well. It was stupid. Very stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Saying it finally out loud makes it even worse and helps him to actually see how pathetic all the whole thing actually is. He’s the pathetic thing, obviously. Pathetic for having trust in that guy, pathetic for having believed that the thing they had was love. Pathetic for having believed they had a thing. Saying it out loud hurts like hell, his eyes watered and he has to take a deep breath to not start crying, the last thing he needs.

Nandor has been looking at him in silence for a few minutes now, his dark eyes now extremely serious and grave are the first things Guillermo finds when he looks up and sniffles, in the attempt to contain the tears.

“What?” He asks, his voice coming with a little tremble, when Nandor continues to remain shut, lost in some thoughts. He doesn’t blink, just stares.

“It is not stupid.” He says, after a long moment.

“What?”

“I don’t think it was stupid, coming here. I think it was very brave of you. A romantic gesture is never stupid as it reveals a strong and pure heart. A fearless heart. The heart of a true knight, as I said already.”

Guillermo can’t help but shake his head and giggles, purely giggles from his heart. Two little and solitary tears escaping from his eyes, but there’s no sadness to accompany them through his cheek. He smiles at Nandor, the vampire imitates him softly. “Right. Well. Thank you.” If only Marco would have been of the same opinion as his. Guillermo wouldn’t meet Nandor, he realizes suddenly. 

“So, if you’re done with the crying, there’s something you should see.” Nandor says, pacing both of his hands on Guillermo’s shoulders, taking him by surprise and grinning when he feels him flinch under his gesture.

“W-what is it?” The man asks, mouth dry, unable to stare at anything but Nandor, who seems pretty much pleased to be staring at him right back.

Nandor’s smile wide, Guillermo traces the curves of his lips ignoring the warmth he’s feeling inside his chest. He wonders if Nandor is able to listen to the incessant pounding of his heart, but he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“It has been standing right in front of you the whole time, my silly little friend.” Nandor lets him go, Guillermo just moves forward like an idiot, chasing his hands, his arms, his body. When he sees what he’s doing, he just freezes and blushes like a high school student.

Glad that Nandor says nothing about it, he finally turns around to look at what the vampire is trying to show him and,

“Holy shit.”

Marco’s thought finally leaves his head for the first time in the last 24 hours. Every sad thought Guillermo has had in the last five days finds its way out of his mind and becomes suddenly meaningless and absurd. The Dome is there and it’s beautiful, and it is magnificent and it is breathtaking.

He literally forgets how to breathe, forgets who he is and what he is doing here. Guillermo forgets where he is, and he even forgets about Nandor, standing next to him. He doesn’t notice the vampire’s shoulder brushing his. He doesn’t notice Nandor looking at him in the same way Guillermo’s looking at Brunelleschi's famous work. He thinks that all the pain he has felt in the last hours maybe had a point after all. All of his tears had been just reworded. Florence’s guardian angel is right there and nothing else matters anymore, finally all Guillermo can feel is – peace. 

Nothing but peace. 

He closes his eyes and just breathes some fresh and night air. 

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, opening his eyes again to feel the same sensation of delightful surprise he has felt with that first glance.

“Yes,” Nandor agrees, eyes still on Guillermo, “very.”

Guillermo automatically smiles hearing his voice, but when he turns his head doesn’t meet the vampire’s eyes, as Nandor is now the one looking at the dome, lost in some old thoughts, perhaps. Guillermo watches him in silence, fondly, glad that he’s the one who’s been sharing the moment with. Guillermo’s smile softens as he looks at Nandor being completely captured by the cathedral, his lips apart. Maybe even the vampire has finally found some peace in his dead old heart, or at the least that is what it seems to be. 

Face being painted by the artificial lights, Nandor’s beauty seems unreal. Guillermo feels dizzy, butterflies in his stomach. He turns his head again, and simultaneously Nandor returns to look at him. None of them notice the staring-play that has been going on.

“I want to do something.” Nandor exhales at some point, and that is all the warning he gives to Guillermo, as he places his hands under his chest, almost hugging him from behind. 

“Wait, wh–AAAAT!?” Guillermo’s yelp gets lost in the air as his feet leave the ground. What the fuck. What the fuck. What. The. Fuck. Nandor holds him close, protective, Guillermo grabs his hands with need as he looks down and sees how everything starts to become little second by second. What the f– he’s flying. Nandor’s flying and he’s bringing Guillermo with him. Guillermo is fucking flying. It isn’t a dream. It’s real and it’s fucking scary. He can’t see the confused look of the few people that were on the street anymore. He can’t hear Nandor’s voice, telling him to relax, a little annoyed by his scream. 

When he finds the courage to look up, the vampire is already approaching the Dome and Guillermo can finally understand what he's doing. Nandor lands on the little balcony, being actually attentive at letting Guillermo go with the most slow and caring movement. At first, none of them seems able to break the contact, Nandor doesn’t dare to move, his chest comfortably pressed over Guillermo’s back, feeling like the one final piece of a puzzle has finally found his place. And Guillermo. Guillermo holds Nandor’s hands tight, so tight that his fingernails have now left a mark in the vampire’s skin. 

They’re still like that when Guillermo finally sees the view, all the panic he has felt already forgotten. “Fuck.” It’s almost even better from up there, and in the night time with all the lights of the city behind them. It’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life, probably the best thing he will ever see. It’s perfect, it’s everything he needed.

The moon is guarding them, Florence offering the right atmosphere, and Guillermo, inebriated by being so close to the sky and its stars, turns to Nandor, still smiling enthusiastically.

He finds his chest against his, his eyes sparkling like a beacon. Guillermo’s smile drops, he swallows, his heart racing so fast like it’s about to explode. Again, it’s perfect. Everything is there, everything he could ever dream of. This incredibly attractive man just brought him here for a reason, his expression is telling him he brought him here for a reason. Guillermo feels like he’s about to be eaten at any moment, only Nandor doesn’t dare to move a muscle. He’s the prey, Guillermo knows he’s the prey, but for some reason the vampire is letting him decide about his fate.

And there’s literally nothing that Guillermo wants more, right now, than melting into Nandor’s kiss. He wanted it right from the start, that’s what it made following him instead of remaining in that train. A kiss, just a kiss. Except that it isn’t. Only yesterday he had a boyfriend, a boyfriend that he cared about. It feels bad just thinking about kissing another man. A man he doesn’t know. A complete stranger who happens to be a vampire. What does he want from him? What does Nandor see in him?

He can’t kiss him. Everything will fall apart, all the magic, all the expectation. If he kisses him, Nandor will see that he’s nothing special. Not the knight he was desperately searching for. Not an interesting person to want to spend the time with. Not one to be fond about, not one to desire, not one to love. Fuck those temting lips, fuck those eyes that are making his leg trembling, fuck those hands that are now on his hips. Wait. 

“Guillermo,” Nandor calls him in the lowest voice, doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

“Definitely.”

And he kisses him like the whole world is depending on it, like their lives are depending on it. Nandor kisses him and Guillermo hears the entire universe collapsing, the stars exploding, the earth splitting in half. Angels singing, demons laughing, planets imploding. Is rather that, or what is happening inside him as he welcomes him into his mouth, his hands hurting a little for holding the collar of Nandor’s coat with all the strength he has, still awkwardly. 

Guillermo can’t believe that is really happening to him, can’t believe that a vampire is kissing him, gentle but needy, almost like he has waited his whole life for this moment. He feels hot, he feels like he could die at any moment. He feels like he could live forever. It’s hot, really hot. Pretty much hot. Is it supposed to be this hot?

Guillermo opens his eyes and yelps into Nandor’s mouth, who misinterprets it and holds him tighter, grinning mischievously. “Nandor,” he tries, head back, breathless, cursing himself for moving away from those splendid lips. “Nandor,” and this time it comes out like a moan, so he can’t blame the vampire for continuing to ignore him and starting to leave wet kisses all over his neck. Fuck his life, honestly. “Nandor, you– you’re on fire?” Seriously, can’t he smell the smoke? 

“Happy you notice,” is the only reply he gets, Guillermo bites his tongue for not cursing out loud and hurting him even more.

“No, you’re literally on fire!” And, thank goodness, he has the speed to step – or jump – back, while actual flames escape from Nandor’s chest.

“Shit!” The vampire hisses, trying to settle down the fire with his hands, not doing a really good job.

“What can I do? What happened?” Was it the kiss? Are vampires not supposed to kiss or something? Why has he never read about it in one of his vampires novels?

“It’s the— shit — fucking thing up there!” Nandor complains of absolute pain, now even his right hand is burning. “Fucking hell!” He screams before turning into a bloody bat and flying away from the balcony, not too far as Guillermo could still see the little flame on his fur.

It happens so fast that he needs a moment to connect the dots, then he raises his head, looks up and manages to understand the problem: the large crucifix of the dome. Of course, so obvious and gigantic that there’s no way Nandor didn’t see it from the start. “Why have you brought us here if you can’t be near those things?!” Guillermo yells at the animal that dares to hiss back as a reply, before disappearing from his eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to get down now?”

*

Nandor still has some burns over his face and hands when they walk down the street again, both of them in silence and pissed with the other one, Guillermo eating the schiacciata he just bought, their little fingers holding together with apparently no intention to let go. 

“Please, let me wash your face. People are looking at you in horror.” Guillermo says at some point, after taking the last bite, for like the fifth or sixth time already. The vampire has, also, blood tears under his eyes but refuses to clean up for some reason. Actually only one reason, to piss him off even more since he has decided that it’s Guillermo’s fault if he was so close to die. Die die. And that’s ridiculous.

Nandor snorts, looking at everything but him, getting closer anyway to the human until their shoulders are touching. Really mixed and fucked up signals.

“Again, I’m sorry if you were hurt but it’s not my fault if it happened.” He tries again, but the vampire continues to ignore him. That’s unbelievable. “It’s not my fault if you decided to fly up there well knowing it would burn you.” Guillermo snaps, then. If Nandor wanted to piss him, well, now he sure is. As if he didn’t almost have a stroke when he picked him up without a warning. 

“I thought it would’ve been romantic!” Nandor hisses, Guillermo forgives him on the spot. He left him behind on that fucking balcony, all alone, and so what? He wanted to do something romantic. God, he’s already lost his mind, isn’t he? Blushing and all the little fingers things. He’s 15 again, what a delight. 

“I think it was stupid,” he says, shaking his head, trying to save his face and his dignity. “You could have died.”

“Nonsense,” Nandor huffs again, determined to not let him win the argument. Like it is there really a point to argue. “And as if you care, anyway.”

Guillermo stops, suddenly speechless, and takes his hand by instinct. Nandor imitates him, looking a little confused. “What do you mean,” he starts, “of course I don’t want you to die.” The firm tone surprises even himself.

“Why, you have just met me.”

And it’s true, and it doesn't make sense at all. Guillermo couldn’t explain it even if he tried. He thinks it’s just– natural? Normal? To not want someone to die. Guillermo doesn’t want a lot of people to die, for instance. But it’s more than that, it’s obviously more than that, especially when the someone in question is, indeed, immortal. The moment he opened his mouth, Guillermo understood it, he understood that those were more than simple words to him, he actually meant them. He just. Meant it. Guillermo doesn’t want Nandor to die, doesn’t want to see him die, doesn’t want to see him hurted. He doesn’t even want to know if he’s hurt– no, he wants to know it, in fact, and do something about it. He wants to protect him, he wants to be the one to make sure he will be and feel safe.

And that’s incredibly stupid, Jesus Christ. Nandor is an ancient warrior, he’s a powerful creature of the night. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him, least of all someone like him, a pathetic little man dumb enough to fall for a person he has just met. 

Only, Nandor’s clearly not like anyone else, and his gut is telling him he’ll never find someone like him. Ever. And he doesn’t want to, anyway. And he doesn’t want to– not being with him, not being at his side. Is that crazy? It feels crazy.

He’ll never see him again. He wants to see him again. And holds his hand, just like that. Just like– he’s still holding his hand, Nandor’s still looking at him. 

No words nor sound came out from Guillermo’s mouth. Instead, he raises his free hand, hesitantly and a little shaking, moving it to Nandor’s cheek who does not flinch for a second, just blinks, enchanted. He caresses his face gently with his thumb, finally wiping off the blood left by the tears. He almost senses him purr, but he tells himself he must have imagined that.

After a very long moment of just staring deep into Guillermo’s soul, the vampire shrugs and starts to walk again, this time hand in hand. 

“I need to eat,” he says at some point, making the human frown.

“Do you mean a-a person?”

“Yes, Guillermo. I am a vampire, remember?” Nandor doesn’t sound upset anymore, revealing even a little bit of amusement in his voice. Guillermo feels stupid anyway, perhaps it is for the best if he just remains shut. And also, where are they gonna find a person for him? Well, yes, the street is fairly crowded, but— they can’t just choose someone randomly, right? He’s not sure, and also he is not sure about why everyone around them seems to be a couple. No, wait. They are literally surrounded by nothing but happy couples.

“This is Pow-nte Vee-key-o.” Nandor explains, while crossing through the old bridge, “or something like that.” Guillermo figures it is just a suggestive place for someone to be with their loved one. He doesn’t feel his face on fire at all, even if no one minds them, and probably that’s the exact problem. Everyone is just so focused on taking a selfie or making out, he feels extremely pressured and anxious. Fuck, he is going to start sweating again. 

“Ooh, look!” The vampire says, completely oblivious about his panic, pointing with excitement at a single man with a bunch of roses not so far from them. “I want him.” He doesn’t give Guillermo even one second to speak or try to stop him, Nandor immediately runs right in the guy’s direction, obviously taking Guillermo with him.

What follows are the craziest five minutes of his life. Nandor approaches the man who was absolutely minding his own business and probably waiting for his date, tries to buy the roses from him as an excuse, doesn’t understand a single word the italian guy is telling him, still manages to bring him in a dark alley. Guillermo follows everything in silence, without really knowing what the hell is supposed to do, so he decides it is maybe for the best to just be on guard, making sure nobody is looking at them.

He feels so dirty, standing there. He refuses to watch as Nandor lays his body toward his chosen victim. Well, maybe Guillermo peeks just a little bit with the corner of his eyes, feeling a shiver down his spine when the vampire’s fangs crap into the man’s neck. He closes his eyes, expecting a scream for help that never arrived. He even covered his ears like a fool, fortunately Nandor is too occupied to notice. 

When he turns his head again, defeated by his own curiosity, he finds the victim almost surrendered to the bite, to Nandor. He sees how the man is holding up on him, a hand on Nandor’s arm, the other gripped right into his hair. He can’t see any of them in the face, but he can witness at all the pleasure’s noise escaping from Nandor’s throat, the way he’s stuck on the guy, refusing to let him go. 

Something clicks inside of him, something that makes him feel sick and ashamed. Guillermo’s— Guillermo’s jealous of what’s happening in front of his nose. He’s livid, actually, he wants to be there, to feel what the poor man is feeling, he wants Nandor to taste his blood with the same pleasure, and perhaps even take his life away. He’s about to vomit.

While the unfortunate dude is about to exhale his last breath, Nandor raises his gaze and stares Guillermo into his eyes. Guillermo doesn’t blink, nor move, nor swallow. The vampire seems appeased by that, Guillermo has tingles all over his body now.

One minute later, they’re walking again, surrounded by couples, Guillermo now proudly holding a rose that Nandor has given him after his dinner. 

“Will you bite me, too?” He hears himself asking at some point.

“Not tonight,” Nandor responds with a whisper.

Not tonight, Guillermo repeats in his mind. Not tonight feels like a promise, a future ahead for them. He looks at the rose in his hand: it has blood on one petal. His lips curve into a tiny smile, he doesn’t notice it. 

Not tonight sounds perfect.

*

They sat in the only free table of the café as soon as Guillermo was starting to shiver from the cold so Nandor suggested for him to take a warm drink. The silence between them doesn’t feel heavy as before, Guillermo starts to enjoy even a moment like this, with him still staring at his rose, gently caressing the petals with one finger, while Nandor just keeps looking at him, a relaxed expression in his face, in delight. 

“You know,” the human starts, when he finds his gaze as he raise his head in his direction, “you still have some– blood,” he says, lowering his voice on the last word, mimic with his hand in front of his own mouth the exact place of the red trace on Nandor’s lips. The vampire doesn’t appear surprised by it, just blinks like it is nothing for him to care about. Although it is, Guillermo thinks, most of all when the waiter’s about to come to them and take their orders, so without thinking he leans forward and for the second times that night, he cleans off the blood over Nandor’s face, indulging a little too much on his soft bottom lip. 

Nandor grins under his touch, Guillermo understands that’s what he wanted from the start. That sick bastard.

“You would make a good servant.” He says, still smiling mischievously.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes. You would help me clean up every night,” Guillermo would actually like that, he thinks, thumb still on his lips. “You would help me dress, do my hair—”

“Mhhm.” Still not too bad, really.

“Find me virgins to eat, take care of the house—”

“Ah, that’s the catch.” Guillermo giggles, completely unashamed.

Nandor’s eyes sparkles. “Oh, so you’re interested in all the other things.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But you did think about it.”

Guillermo shakes his head, still smiling like a teenager, sitting on his chair again. He cleans the blood now on his fingers with a tissue, staring at it for a few seconds. It should have been his, it should have been him. Guillermo exhales a breath at that thought, takes off his glasses and scratches his eyes for a very long moment. Where does all this come from, again? 

In the meantime, Nandor’s attention is on the waiter, who’s serving hot chocolate at their table, well at least he’s serving it to Guillermo. 

“Wait a moment, are you trying to fool us?!” The vampire exclaims, making both Guillermo and the waiter flinch. “Where are the little white things?”

The man looks at him completely lost. “What?” He asks with a heavy italian accent. 

“The things,” Nandor tries again. “The things humans like to put– I mean, we, as perfectly regular human beings, like to put in the hot chocolate. The things. It is literally in every movie.” He watches Guillermo, searching for his help, but finds him confused too. “Come on. They are tiny like this, and soft and sweet, I believe, and you can squash them like this.”

Guillermo looks attentively at the gestures Nandor is kind of simulating with his hand, trying really hard to work with his imagination. “Wait, marshmallows?”

“YES!” Nandor erupts in triumph, fits in the air – a couple of heads turn to look at them. “The mushy mallow. Exactly.” 

Guillermo smiles at his enthusiasm, but the waiter shakes his head. “I’m sorry, we do not have i–”

“What do you mean?” Nandor asks, the joy long gone. “We want the smellow things.”

“But—”

“Nandor-”

“You’ll bring Guillermo a new cup of hot chocolate this time with a lot of those mushy things he just named. And extra cream, too!” He waves his hand just like he did on the train with the hostess before anyone could say anything; as the other time, the waiter blinks and nods. A second later, he’s out the café, probably searching for marshmallows to buy.

“It wasn’t necessary, you know.” Guillermo affirms, a little in shock about what happened.

“You didn’t like the mushy things in your chocolate?”

“Well, yes I do, but—”

“No but,” Nandor says firmly, “I want only the best for my date.” 

Guillermo almost chokes at those words. He starts coughing immediately, Nandor starts to worry, his right hand about to pose on Guillermo’s but then stops, uncertain. “So is this a date?” The man asks when he recovers. 

The vampire blinks. “Of course it’s a date, what were you thinking we’re doing?”

Guillermo opens his mouth to reply, only to realize nothing really intelligent would escape from it. What was he thinking, Nandor asked. What a brilliant question. Guillermo still hasn’t figured out what’s happening, really. Hasn’t understood how it is possible Nandor’s there, right in front of him, enjoying their time together. If he’s enjoying it. Shit. Guillermo thinks so, he would have noticed if that wasn't the case, right?

“I-” he starts, hesitant, “I really don’t know. I know nothing anymore, I’m afraid. Is it going well, the date?”

Nandor smiles this time, the fangs shining in his mouth, his hand finally holding Guillermo’s over the table. “Very.”

Thank God.

“So,” Guillermo starts, playing with Nandor’s fingers, not daring to look him in the eyes. “You said you’ve been traveling for months. Where did you go?”

“I returned home, my real home you see. I returned to Al Quolanudar.” He has never heard about it but doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

“How it was?”

Nandor huffs. “It was okay, I guess, but I found my town no longer exists so it is more correct to say that nowhere is my home, now, and that is less okay.” 

Guillermo notices immediately the sad note in the vampire’s eyes, his heart misses a beat like he’s the one being hurted by the meaning of his words. He catches his hand again, holding it tight and, in a second moment, twines their fingers together. “That can’t be true. You have Nadja and Laszlo.” Jealousy back again, Guillermo feels weird in his stomach, a strange instinct in between wanting to punch a wall and ugly crying on the floor of a bathroom.

Nandor groans again, rolling his eyes still pretending to not give a shit about them. That hurts Guillermo in reflection even more. What did they do to Nandor for making him so sad? How dare they? “I told you. They have each other, I’m not a part of their plans. Maybe I never was.” 

“That’s bullshit,” he affirms, solemnly. “You said yourself. You three have been together for centuries, I’m sure they miss you.”

“Ah. That’s a good one,” Nandor comments, bittersweet. Again that stupid feeling in his gut, the insane desire of holding him close and kissing the hell out of him and telling him how beautiful and special he is. And kissing him again, feeling him, risking it all for him. Guillermo swallows everything with a deep breath.

“I’m going to miss you.” 

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I don’t see how someone couldn’t miss you, really.” The vampire appears yet again so lonely, that’s the problem, Guillermo thinks. Probably no one has ever made him feel important, or loved. Living with a happy couple all the time must not be easy, most of all if you do not have somebody at your side at all, like an omnipresent third wheel. He hates it for Nandor, he doesn’t deserve it. He knows he has just met him and really doesn’t know him that much and all, but Jesus, nobody deserves to feel that emptiness in his life, an empty hole in their heart – even a dead one – that pushes them to run away.

It’s almost the same hole Guillermo has felt for his entire life. 

“Will you miss your Mark?” He doesn’t bother to correct him, occupied with thinking about that.

“I- yes, probably, at first at least. I already miss him, you know, I cared about him.”

“What happened then?”

“Well,” Guillermo starts unsure after a sigh. “I came to Italy to surprise him as I told you, but he wasn’t really happy about it. He was… distant, and petty all the time.” Marco had looked at him already bothered from the moment he walked through the door. He started to complain immediately, about how he had to work during the day and couldn’t let him alone in his house the whole time (Guillermo tried to suggest that he would have just visited the city while waiting for him), or about how he didn’t know where to let him sleep (Guillermo was too hurted to point out that they could have just shared his bed and sleep together).

He takes a deep breath, memories of the last five days crowding his mind. “He didn’t want me to meet his friends, but he had to at some point. And there was this one, Andrea.” The name comes with a little tremble in his voice, Guillermo tries to ignore it and pretend it is nothing. “I met him yesterday and– I think they were into something, you know. I- I don’t think Marco was really cheating on me, but I think it was a matter of time until he would’ve ended our relationship to be with this guy. I just wished he would’ve told me sooner.”

“We should slaughter him,” Says Nandor with gravity and such serious eyes that gives Guillermo goosebumps all over his arms.

“What? Who?”

“We should slaughter this Andreea, of course. When I was in Al Quolanudar I would kill every men who tried to steal even one of my thirty seven wives.”

“What— no. We don’t do that!” Guillermo exclaims, almost yelling, gesticulating with both of his hands. “And he’s not stealing anyone, they’re two consensual adults and if Marco wants to be with him instead of me, so it’ll be.”

“We should murder this Mark-o then,” Nandor snaps, as it was so obvious from the start.

“No, we shouldn’t!” Guillermo hates that it comes out with a giggle, a nervous one but still. The man is suggesting to kill his ex boyfriend, he shouldn’t laugh at that. 

“Why not?” The vampire continues, raising his voice in confusion. “The guy is an idiot anyway.”

“No, he’s—” but he stops. Why the hell should he defend Marco? That guy hadn’t even the courage to leave him for good, it was Guillermo the one, that morning, ending everything with him. And what was his reaction? A sigh of relief. Nothing else but relief. Months together, chatting and talking on the phone, the video calls at three in the morning because of the time zone. The love words said to him repeatedly. All of this for nothing. Guillermo shouldn’t feel sorry at all, he broke his heart and maybe stopping Nandor from killing him is already enough, honestly. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t matter. Not while I’m with you.” 

That. Was. So. Fucking. Dull.

What is wrong with him? Where the hell was that from? Mierda, now he can’t even take it back. Can he? No, he doesn’t think so. Now, think is a strong word, he got nothing in his brain at the moment, Guillermo feels dizzy. Nandor looks at him with those big and dark eyes and suddenly his head feels heavy, inebriated. 

You’ll say goodbye in a few hours and it will be forever, a voice inside his brain says to him, struck him like a thunder. But it’s a one night stand. Just a one night stand, he knew that from the start. 

The thing is, Guillermo is starting to realize he’s not made for one night stands.

The waiter’s suddenly back at their table, a new cup of hot chocolate right where it was the other one but this time it has really too much cream for a single person and tiny marshmallows in it.

“Oh- uhm, thank you?” Guillermo mumbles, cocking his head and gazing at the man, who does nothing but blinks a couple of times. He looks like someone has struck him on the head.

“C-Cos'è successoWhat happened??!” He says, thinking out loud. 

“You may go now,” Nandor nods and the both of them watch as he leaves and returns behind the bar.

“You hypnotized him, right?” Guillermo affirms, blowing on the cup before taking a little sip. Gosh, it’s hot like hell. “Just like you hypnotized the man and the hostess on the train.” Nandor nods again, adding nothing. Guillermo frowns, his eyes studying his smile, his posture, all of his regal figure. “Where were you hiding on the train?”

Nandor’s smile wides, probably happy to have all his attention once again. “I was in my bat form and slumbering in a carriage. Then I went to the toilet and turned into my normal self again. It’s not that hard, traveling, for vampires.”

They continue chatting for a few minutes, Nandor explains to Guillermo that’s actually the first time after many — many — years that he’s spent alone, without even a familiar with him. Guillermo continues to ask questions about his trip, where do you usually sleep? How does it work with your coffin being shipped from town to town? What’s this- ancestral soil you’re talking about? And so go on, eating some cream and marshmallows and waiting for the chocolate to cool just a little. 

He doesn’t want to ask too many questions about his former familiar, since Guillermo has understood they didn’t want to follow him on his journey, but Nandor doesn’t really seem bothered by their choice. Still, little wrinkles form around his eyes everytime he names those Laszlo and Nadja of his.

For a person who continues to affirm he doesn’t care about his friends, he seems to miss them a lot. Guillermo hides a smile against his cup, Nandor rumbling about that one time Laszlo wrote a melody after him that he would eventually play every year at his birthday. Nandor seems really fond about Laszlo, about Nadja, about their adventures together; his enthusiasm about the two of them drags Guillermo along, he can’t stop smiling at Nandor’s stories, trying to picture the two vampires in his mind.

He’s home sick, Guillermo can tell.

“What would you say to your friends if you could talk to them right now?”

Nandor stops talking immediately, a hand still in the hair as he was trying to catch something, maybe a memory. He looks him in the eyes with an open mouth and a surprise expression on his face. What would I say to them? he’s probably thinking, being caught off guard. He raises his gaze, searching for the right answer, lost in his thoughts for a few seconds, then returns to look at Guillermo, alluringly.

“That my journey wasn’t a dumb idea as they said since I happened to meet this handsome and gentle young knight and got to spend a whole night with him.”

Oh.

He wasn’t, definitely, expecting that. Guillermo keeps trying to resist the urge to kiss him, as he continues looking at him like that, with his glowy eyes and that annoying and irresistible smirk drawn on his lips. But why resist, after all? Why not push everything out of the table and drag him close, close, closer , let Nandor devour him or do whatever he pleases? Why not act? Why is he stuck on his seat? Why is his own heart laughing at him? Just- why.

“What would you say to your ex if he was here?” The vampire asks suddenly, somehow sounding even more enchanting just using the word “ex”. 

Guillermo looks away for a moment. What would he say to Marco? That he has hurted him so much he couldn’t even cry about it. That he broke his heart. That he trusted him, he wanted to be with him. To fall in love. Guillermo would say that he thought he was in love, but now he’s not sure anymore. He would say that his heart has never beaten so fast with Marco as is doing right now with Nandor. He would say thank you for letting me go, for helping me find Nandor. 

“Uhm.” He babbles, “Fuck you, I think.”

Nandor’s grin widens, more and more, until he just starts laughing in the most noisy way, head back, eyes closed. Guillermo looks at him confused, it wasn’t that funny at all, he thinks, a little embarrassed since the people in the cafe are turning their head to watch them, but then his laugh is so contagious that he can’t help but imitate him.

Yes, he thinks again, fuck Marco. I’m living the best night of my life.

And when their laughs finally stop, Guillermo wiping a solitary tear from his left eye, he finds that though being absolutely accurate. He’s still smiling when Nandor’s hand brushes his again, their legs tied somehow together, Guillermo doesn’t know when it happened exactly. 

He breathes slowly, feeling Nandor’s gaze, blushing again as if he was a shy kid, but in fact he’s being overwhelmed by everything. It feels nice, being here in a cafe, in Florence, sharing stories and thoughts and smiles with Nandor. It feels so nice and in peace, for the first time in five days. Probably ever. 

It’s the intimacy, Guillermo realizes. The intimacy he has never felt with someone. Not Marco, definitely not Marco, not with his high school crushes. It’s the intimacy, this warm feeling inside him, feels right. Feels so damn right.

“Is it good?” Nandor asks at some point, Guillermo taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

He nods, “Yes. Do you want some?”

Nandor smiles, not hiding a little sadness. “I can’t eat human food, I’ll feel sick and it’s not great to see.” 

“What- really?” Guillermo frowns, yes, he should have imagined. He looks at Nandor just staring at his drink. “You never had chocolate?”

The vampire shakes his head, gently. “Not once, in my 700 years of life.” 

Guillermo’s brain is processing, is thinking so fast that he’s starting to believe it’s been loud. He has an idea, maybe it’s stupid, or childish, or lame. Maybe Nandor will laugh at him, surely Nandor will laugh at him. Perhaps he should keep his mouth closed, but. If he’s actually right..

“I want to try something.” He starts, gaining Nandor’s attention who just raises one eyebrow at him, actually curious. “Do you trust me?”

Nandor stares at him for an endless minute, maybe more. Guillermo starts to panic, a bit of sweat on his forehead, his face starting to be on fire. He tries to remain calm, to not let the vampire notice his doubts, but he eventually opens his mouth to tell him to forget what he has just said, that’s when Nandor takes him by surprise. “Yes.”

Guillermo wasn’t really expecting that response, his heart misses a beat. Alright then, not the time to step back or hesitate.

He takes another sip of chocolate, fuck - his hands are trembling, being very careful to swallow every bit.

“Come here and kiss me.” 

He remains surprised by the sound of his own voice, so firm and confident, but most of all, Guillermo remains surprised seeing Nandor actually stand up just to kneel before him to be at his height. He kneels so solemnly, slowly, not blinking once or interrupting their eye contact.

Nandor looks at him with intensity, Guillermo forgets even how to breathe.

They’re kissing again, this time no crucifix on their heads, no god ready to stop their outrageous sin, Guillermo being dragged into Nandor’s mouth, forced to cock his head since the vampire seems to refuse to stand even just a little, determined to heard and fully satisfy the vampire’s silent prayer.

The second time goes better, Guillermo feels more confident, more relaxed. He’s not panicking anymore, everything feels great, harmonious, at the right place. They’re moving in unison, tasting, chasing, craving. Nandor’s plea is only for Guillermo to be heard, to be fulfilled. He shivers at that thought, at the knowledge. He feels fire in his veins; his chest, his heart, finally less heavy. He left Marco behind, in the past, and with him all the pain and all the tears. And it’s good, it’s rewarding, it’s reassuring. And Nandor, on the other hand, is finally able to see, to believe, that his loneliness can be cured, even for a night, or an hour, or just for a minute. 

They both feel less alone in this very moment and the awareness drives them even more crazy.

Nandor kisses him desperately, ferociously, famished. He’s begging Guillermo, groaning for more, crying on his lips as he senses his hands pressed on his scalp. Guillermo feels a bitter, metallic taste all of sudden, it takes a second to realize it is his own blood, that he cutted his tongue on Nandor’s fangs, more or less consciously. 

Nandor whines with pleasure, both of them have completely forgotten they’re still in public. None of them could care less.

“Little rascal,” he laments with a grimace, “letting a vampire taste your delicious blood.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Guillermo exhales, trying to catch his breath again, not sounding convinced even to himself. “You’re not about to vomit in my mouth because of the chocolate, are you?” 

Their foreheads pressed together, Nandor seems to consider his question, licking his own lips and tasting again the weird mix of chocolate and blood. He appears gratified. “No, it works,” the reply comes like a groan.

Guillermo can’t help but grin. “You want m-?”

Nandor doesn’t even let him finish.

*

They walk in the night, streets now almost desert, talking and whispering and kissing every few steps. Guillermo can’t remember the last time he giggled this much, losing the track of time – the little time they still have. 

They arrive at Piazzale Michelangelo – Guillermo was fast enough to google it before his phone died –, Nandor flying them along the way as soon as he sensed his tiredness. The vampire had anticipated that it was the most beautiful view in Florence and he wasn’t lying. Guillermo is mesmerized by the amount of light of the city in front of them, trying very hard to focus and memorize everything he’s sensing, so as to never forget it. 

And how would he, anyway? How, when Nandor is pulling him closer, holding him from behind. How, when he’s leaving gentle kisses over his skin, so slow and tender as if he’s afraid of breaking or hurting him? How, when he’s whispering into his ears how beautiful and handsome and sexy Guillermo is? Or how bad he wants to bite him and bring an end to his starvation with nothing but his delicate and yummy – yup, he literally says yummy – virginal blood?

Guillermo couldn’t ever forget this night even if he wanted to. 

They sit together silently, smiling; Guillermo doing Nandor’s hair, gently unties some knots, Nandor enjoying his time playing with and petting a stray cat that has followed them and now seems actually to really appreciate the vampire’s attention, purring loudly.

It feels so random, yet familiar.

Guillermo can’t still believe how relaxed he is, the awkwardness felt with Nandor seems to be from so long ago.

“Oh my— look!” He says, suddenly, the vampire’s head on his legs, the cat sleeping on Nandor’s belly. “A shooting star!”

He’s thinking that there’s definitely not a better, and magical way, to end the night, but Nandor abruptly sits up, the cat hissing unpleasant. “There is a star shooting at us? But why? We did nothing—” he starts rumbling incessantly, Guillermo smiles softly, giggling and shaking his head.

“No, just— you have to make a wish.”

“Well, I wish for the star to not shoot at us, then.” Nandor continues, shutting him up and giving Guillermo no chance to explain. He’s watching the sky, now, a hand inside his coat, something is telling him that the vampire has some sort of dagger with him. For some reason, that doesn’t worry Guillermo even a little. 

“No!” Guillermo hurries again, surprising by himself for not having stopped smiling at Nandor, not even for a second. “It’s just — I don't know, a piece of rock, I think, from space. They’re not so common to see, so when it happens people like to make a wish.” It sounds so stupid, saying that out loud.

“Oh.” Nandor comments, pinching his chin. “I see. We had something like that in Al Quolanudar, but I do not remember how we used to call it.” He seems to contemplate some old memory, his face darkened a little, his eyes reflecting a melancholic thought. Guillermo feels a punch in his stomach.

“Did you make the wish?” He asks, gentle and whispering. Nandor smiles at him.

“I wished for you to kiss me.”

And again, that warm feeling inside his chest. The absolute absence of panic, of fear. 

“That’s a waste,” Guillermo finds the courage to joke, chuckling just a little bit, “I would have kissed you anyway.”

Nandor’s snorting, and rolling his eyes. “Guillermo,” he calls him, firmly, in a low voice. 

He stares at him, lips apart. “Yes, Nandor?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, he does, completely abandoned and at his mercy. He does it, and again, and again, and again. He kisses him and suddenly he finds himself on the top of Nandor, doesn’t know how it happened and doesn’t stop for asking, the vampire holding him close, hands on his thighs.

Guillermo takes Nandor’s neck in his hands, an obscene sound escapes the vampire’s throat. Or maybe it was Guillermo’s, he really can’t tell, his mind completely blank.

“Nandor,” he almost jumps in surprise hearing his own voice. “I have to say something stupid.” 

The vampire stops, Guillermo feels a cool breath on his cheek. “I’m listening.”

“It’s something very, very stupid.”

Nandor nods, encouraging him with a quick kiss on the top of his nose. Guillermo takes a deep breath.

“I don’t think we should— err — have sex?” He bites his bottom lip to stop a curse from slipping out of his mouth. That’s where things were going, right? What were they about to do? He’s not exactly sure, as he’s not exactly sure about why the fuck he had to freeze everything before it was too late.

Nandor doesn’t say a word, just stares. Guillermo, the idiot he is yet once again, swallows. “I think it would break my heart and I can’t afford that too right now,” he says, hiding his face against Nandor’s shoulder. “I want to, I really want to.” So what’s the problem, Guillermo? You must be insane, you must surely have lost your damn mind. “But we will never see each other again, and I— I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a virgin kind of stuff, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to be a one time thing for you.” Fuck fuck fuck, he has never hated himself so much.

“Then we should see each other again,” Nandor breathes, making him smile.

“Yeah, sure. We should.” Guillermo whispers, because of course Nandor is not actually serious. Of course he’s hating him right now. He’s letting him down, for fuck’s sake. “I want to. I wanted to from the start,” now he’s just saying things out loud, making a fool of himself. “I just- don’t know if it’s right. I don’t know if I want to anymore. I don’t know. I don’t know, Nandor.” He cries in exasperation.

He relaxes only when he feels him, gently playing with his curls. “I’m here to serve my knight. I’ll do whatever you want, Guillermo. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

What he wants. Guillermo lets out a breath. “I want to be kissed.” 

*

When he opens his eyes, his head is resting on Nandor thighs and the vampire is tracing his face with one finger, gently, almost imperceptible; it’s enough for Guillermo to feel the tingles. 

“Wakey wakey my sweet knight.” Nandor is whispering, Guillermo needs a moment to process the words before realizing he has fallen asleep.

“Oh, fuck!” He curses, standing up. “I can’t believe I fell asleep!” He checks out his watch: it’s 5 am. He has a train ticket for 5:41. Fuck, it’s late. It’s late. It’s— too soon. It’s too soon, He looks at Nandor. He’s smiling. He doesn’t seem okay. It’s too soon. “I fell asleep,” he repeats, tears in his eyes, his voice breaking all of a sudden.

“You were exhausted,” Nandor reassures him. “But we have to hurry before the sunrise, I’ll fly us to the station. It will take a few minutes.” 

It’s happening too fast. Guillermo finds himself nodding automatically, like a robot. He fell asleep. Why the hell did he fall asleep? They only had one night. One fucking night. And he wasted precious time sleeping. Why did Nandor not wake him earlier? 

“Where-” he coughs, shit he needs to drink some water. “Where’s our little friend?” Now he’s asking about the cat. Instead of yelling at Nandor to not let him go. Or to not leave him. Guillermo’s brain is screaming to Nandor to not leave him. And he’s asking about the cat. God, he doesn’t need water. He needs a double coffee.

“He’s gone.” Nandor shrugs, taking his hand and helping him stand. “Like every living creature that cannot be tamed, you must accept that’s what they want and watch as they leave for good.”

Is he talking about the cat? Guillermo is not awake enough to be sure about it. That’s not what he wants, anyway, he thinks. Or at least, he wants to return home and hug his mami and cry for an entire day in his room, but. He also wants Nandor. 

He is not talking about the cat, right?

“What if someone decides to stay?” He asks. “Or, what if they come back?” What if I come back to you? Will you be happy? Or will it be just like with Marco?

“They rarely do.” Nandor sighs. He’s definitely not talking about the cat. How many people have left you already, how many have walked away from you, to talk like that?

“Nandor.”

“It’s late, come here.”

They spent the rest of the time in silence. Nandor holding him carefully during the fly, Guillermo staring at the city without really seeing it. I will not see him again, the only thing Guillermo could think of, with one thousand things more he wants to say to Nandor, for assuring him he will never forget about him, or let him know how much that night has meant to him. How he feels. Guillermo is not sure about how he feels. Not sure if he’s allowed to say out loud how he feels.

They take their bags at the station, Nandor seems to refuse to look at him, Guillermo suffering the blow without saying a word. Why is he not talking to him? He misses his voice already, fuck. He’ll never hear Nandor’s voice again. He’ll never feel his gaze again, feeling all dizzy and hot just by a stare. 

What the hell is happening, why did it happen at all? Just to end like this?

“That’s your train,” he hears him saying, voice low. Was it trembling? Guillermo looks at him, he’s definitely trembling. This is insane, everything that happened in the last 12 hours was pure madness. And what is he doing? Why the hell is he– are they standing like this? Like it’s nothing? Like the night before was nothing? That’s stupid. That’s insane.

“That’s bullshit!” Guillermo exclaims out loud, Nandor winces. They stare into eachothers eyes, he doesn’t know how much time they have left by now, the train is probably about to leave, but he can’t remain silent any more. “It’s stupid. You’re stupid.” Nandor blinks but lets him talk, now actually curious. Guillermo doesn’t really know what he’s saying. “What are we doing? I hate this. I want to see you again.”

The vampire continues to stare, people are saying goodbye all around. They refuse to acknowledge them. “Really?”

Guillermo nervously laughs now, how can he be serious? How can’t he notice the way his heart is racing inside his chest, everytime they look at each other or– touch each other. Or just talk, really, butterflies are about to explode inside his stomach just for their talks, for Christ’s sake. “YES!” He almost screams. “I don’t know– one year from today?” 

Nandor reaches for his hand and claps it tightly, his old enthusiasm back again. “Six months!”

“Six months?” Guillermo tries to calculate quickly how many shifts at Panera Bread he needs to do to save enough money to travel again in six months. He’s not that quick, the train is really about to leave. “Yeah, sure. Six months.” He says: money is a problem for his future self, he decides. “Six months from last night. We will meet here, what do you think?”

“Here is perfect!” Nandor replies. “But then, you will come with me to Paris, so you’ll meet my friends.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He smiles, Nandor imitates him, eyes wide. Six months, he thinks, only six months. He’ll see that smile again in six months, it’s not over yet. He’ll see him again. It’s all perfect, it’s all gonna be okay. 

One second later, Nandor is embracing him, kissing his entire face, from his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, his nose, his eyes. He appears to be determined to memorize him in this way, Guillermo keeps giggling, finding it tickling. He’s gonna miss him every second of every day. 

He kisses Nandor for the last time, feeling a little salt on their lips all of sudden. He’s probably crying, but doesn’t care. It’s the last time he can kiss him, nothing else matters.

Until six months, he repeats in his mind, his lips curving into a smile.

When he looks out the window, Nandor is not there anymore. He searches for him for a few seconds, then just sighs. He takes his sketchbook out of his bag and writes with a pencil the date he’s supposed to see him again. He stares fondly at the numbers, caressing the page with his fingers. He writes down Nandor’s name, then adds the Relentless part too. He bites his lips with enthusiasm, starting immediately to draw him now he has his face printed in his mind in all of his glory.

He doesn’t notice the train is leaving the station, but Nandor does. He looks at it in the shadows, whispering in the air “Six months, my dear Guillermo.”

Six months are nothing for an immortal creature.

For Nandor are a lifetime.