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Throughout all of time, humans have been enamored with the concept of love. Regulus supposes it gives them a sense of purpose, to believe there’s someone out there made just for them. Cut from the same destiny-bleached cloth, sown together by the fates themselves.
In truth, there isn’t much rhyme or reason to what Regulus does. Maybe there’s more to it for some, Regulus isn’t the only one of his kind, afterall, and they all perform their duties in their own ways.
Regulus’ way has been the same for well over a millenia. He spends his days roaming, passing a constant stream of face after face until he feels a gentle pull in his stomach, a silent this one , and it begins. Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes days, rarely weeks– following closely behind until someone crosses their path, their someone. All it takes is one look from Regulus, and their souls are linked. He plants a seed, infatuation, which sprouts into desire, that grows into adoration, that blooms into devotion. He is a bringer of love.
Since near the beginning of time, Regulus has been moving. A never ending process of delivering humanity their moments of serendipity. That is all he ever has been, and all he had ever needed to be.
The first time Regulus sees James, it’s outside a small italian restaurant on the outskirts of London, sitting alone at one of the two lonely tables set up out front. A very inconsequential location, not even frequented by James often. Regulus hadn’t planned to stop, still following closely behind a young woman waiting to come across her half when he caught sight of him in the reflection of the window.
Regulus is an immortal being. He does not experience time the way humans do. He’s never had need to acknowledge the passage of time or his place in it. And yet, everything around him halted in that moment. He stopped walking, the ground feeling terribly unsteady beneath his feet.
He was the most beautiful human Regulus had ever seen. Warm brown skin, Regulus wondered if it was as soft to the touch as it seemed. Bright eyes that curved with his smile. He was on the phone with someone, letting out a laugh that rivaled the sweetest melody even Apollo himself could perform.
Regulus looked back at the woman he’d been shadowing. He doesn’t stop to think about what he's doing when he flicks his gaze to a random man down the street, locking their fates. The woman keeps walking, and Regulus doesn’t pay attention as they bump into each other, an inciting incident in their story that he’d seen countless times before in countless other stories.
Instead, he sits in the chair across from James, rests his chin in the palm of his hand, and watches. His eyes do not wander.