Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the fanfiction. Their original author is Riyoko Ikeda. I am only writing for fun.

Author's note:

Hello!
Thank you for your interest in my fanfic. To be honest, I am a little nervous about posting it regarding where I plan to take it to. Anyway, I decided to take a risk and try it out as I just cannot get it out of my mind.

Please note that the story is rated M. I am not going to publish any detailed discriptions of scenes with sexual content, but the topics I am going to mention are not easy ones and they may not be suitable for younger audiences. Nevertheless, I will announce critical scenes to make sure that no one might be offended.

I am sorry for possible spelling or grammar mistakes as English is not my mother tongue.

So, that should be all for now. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

My name was Oscar François de Jarjayes, born on 25th of December 1765. In a few weeks, I would have turned 23. I first was commander, then high commander of the Royal Guard. I later was commander of the French National Guard. I was a noble. I was a man. I tried to be one, at least. However, in all my life, I had made many mistakes. One of them was that I lost my best friend and let it happen. I never saw him again. And I never will. Because I am dead.

Well, I thought so. Until the darkness which was surrounding me for what seemed like an eternity fades. My ears are ringing and my body is aching all over. The cold snow against my skin feels like thousands of needle stings. It is cold, terribly cold. But a hot tear is running down my cheek when I remember what has happened. And I wish I actually was dead.

Earlier.

He did not react the way I had expected. He did not look pleased, and I did not understand. Why would it not please him? Was he not glad to be free? Free to do what he wanted, free to finally live his own life? Apparently not.

"Why?" André asked, but I did not answer. "Why, Oscar? Why, what did I do wrong?"

I swallowed, shaking my head. "Nothing."

That was not what he wanted to hear. He looked hurt and I wanted to say something, but I did not know what, because I did not know what he wanted to hear instead.

"Why, then? Why do you send me away? "

"I do not send you away. I just said that you are free to go. Because I go, too. I thought-"

The hurt in his face had changed to anger and I knew that I involuntarily may have gone too far. "You thought! My God, Oscar François de Jarjayes can think! I can hardly believe you ever do, because if you did, surely you would not have said this! You would know then that I would never intend to-" He seized me by the wrist when my hand was flying towards his face. We both froze.

How had we gotten here? What had happened to us that we were shouting at each other, that I wanted to slap him, that he held my wrist in order to prevent that? It would not have been the first time that we would have had a fight, although the last one was long time ago. But this felt different. Things had changed. We had changed.

I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. "Let me go" I said, nearly whispering. He did not hear it, or maybe did not want to hear. He just stood there in silence. "Let me go!" I said again, this time trying to appear more determined, though it was rather a squeal. I pressed my lips together at the sound of my voice, embarrassed by what I called an overreaction. There was neither a reason to be hysteric, nor to be scared of my best friend. Why would I? After all, we were friends, even if I had the impression that the past few minutes had had a deep effect on our relationship.

However, the strange sound of my voice did not escape his notice, either, and he did what I said. He let me go. And a long silence followed again until he finally spoke.

"Forgive me. I forgot myself. It will not happen again." André went past me, heading for the door, where he stopped once more. "One more thing, Oscar," he began, and I slightly turned around to see him, "A rose will always be a rose, whether it blooms in red or white. A rose can never become a lilac. Do not ignore that. Do not try to be someone you are not." And he left.

"But who am I then, André?"

I would never get an answer to my question, because the next morning, he was gone.

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading! I know that this is not much for a start, but the next chapter is already in preparation and I just could not wait to post the Prologue.
Please let me know what you think. Thanks again!