XIII: Love Eternal

Arthur woke to an unfamiliar setting. Stripped of his jacket and his socks and shoes, down to only his trousers and the cotton button shirt he had worn yesterday, the Briton was tucked underneath a quilted blanket—obviously made with care, he noted with a charmed smile—in the midst of a summer morning in the city of Rome. His eyes flickered about the room, taking in its white walls and wooden floors and modern (or maybe it was contemporary) furniture, before swinging his legs over the side of the couch. Ah, he remembered now, grasping his head as it throbbed with a mild pain in comparison to the knife wound he had inflicted upon himself. It seemed like only a few days ago that Lovino had admonished him about being irrational and reckless—especially when it came to involving himself in life or death matters—when in truth it was four years ago.

Although the pain was comparable to a child scraping his knee, it still stung; being a simple scratch for an ancient demon like him, however, most of it was already healed. What hadn't regained itself was the strength and energy he had exhausted. Four years wasn't nearly enough to cover the spent magic he had used to incinerate the entirety of his uncle's body—ensuring his erasure—as it was his own life essence, what could be considered the equivalent of a living soul, that he had utilised to execute the task. Even for the King of the Underworld, erasing the existence of a high-ranking demon was a difficult task—especially when the strength of such a demon rivalled Arthur and Alistair's own. Then there was also the matter of Patrick's black flames lingering in Arthur's body like a parasite or poison slowly corrupting what remained of his life essence. It took all four years to extract Patrick's life essence from his body; after all, there shouldn't be two people living in only one shell. In addition, he had exerted more energy to cross the dimensions and to teleport from Tokyo to Rome, both of which were outside the centre of his international pentagram, making teleportation a little bit more difficult.

Not to mention, clutching at his chest, this contract that bound the two of them usurped quite a bit of energy as well when confirming Lovino's well-being. Honestly, it would have taken him another couple of months to recuperate properly, but Arthur didn't have any more time to waste seeing that Lovino only had so many more years ahead of him.

He wasn't sure if Lovino was all right mentally though, so his attention drifted immediately to the barista still locked up in his bedroom. Standing on his unsteady feet, he lumbered across the living room, gradually regaining his footing, and stumbled into the hallway. Arthur leaned against the threshold of the bedroom door and raised a hand to knock tentatively before halting his progress in mid-air. Maybe it was better to let Lovino to rest properly. He did have a rough night. Dropping his hand to his side, Arthur rested his back against the wall of the hall and slid onto the floor in a crouching position. He wondered if Lovino ever regretted meeting him—if all of this was just too much trouble—and the moment the possibility crossed his mind, his chest began to ache painfully—much more painful than any other wound that he has ever sustained. It throbbed with a most miserable agony as though nightmarish claws dug into the muscles and tissues compromising his heart, scratching and mutilating its physiology, and tugged and yanked painfully at his heartstrings every which way.

Right, Arthur mused glumly and gloomily, since nobody normal would want to get involved with the bloody occult. Maybe it would be better for Lovino if I—and everyone else who has been nosing into our damn business—just disappeared. It would definitely be safer, and it would be what Romulus Vargas would want as well were he still alive. Lovino wasn't supposed to have any connections to the Underground now, and the Underground is very much a part of the Otherside—just like me. Then about this ruddy contract... I'll figure out a way to nullify it... eventually, and I'll have to marry Marianne in the end anyway. At least the children like her.

Now I just need to tell bloody Gilbert and Mathias to stay away from Lovino as well.

Arthur pushed himself off the floor and lumbered back into the living room to recollect his items, slipping on his socks and stepping into his shoes. After throwing his jacket over his arm, he exited Lovino's flat and, with a snap of his fingers, locked the door securely. Just as he was about to make his way down the pavement to his manor, he encountered the coppery haired Vargas brother holding paper bags of groceries and art supplies right at the front door. Straining a smile, the blond greeted Feliciano politely, who in turn greeted him cheerfully with a beaming grin. "Is Fratello awake yet? He always sleeps in, which is bad for the business, ve!"

"Not yet," Arthur answered honestly, keeping up his gentlemanly mannerisms despite his exhaustion.

"Ve, I see! I'll go see! How's your hand? Fratello told me that you saved him last night! How brave!" Feliciano exclaimed merrily. From the sheer volume of his voice, the blond feared that he might have awoken Lovino from his sleep and thus glanced at his beloved's bedroom window fearfully. When he saw no movement, he allowed himself to relax some but resolved to escape from the vicinity quickly. "We have to thank you somehow! Would you come over for dinner tonight? Oh, wait, we'll working in the café... I guess you could come over then! It'll be fun!"

"I appreciate the offer, lad," Arthur responded quickly. Maybe his reply was a tad bit hasty, but Feliciano didn't seem to notice. Continuing with his excuse, the blond explained himself, "I have something to do this evening."

"Ve, that's too bad... Well, there's always next time! Ciao, Artù!"

Arthur took to the streets like a fish to water, strolling all the way to his manor and bursting through the doors. Alfred and Matthew were quick to greet him, and he returned their greetings wearily with exhaustion prominent in his green eyes. When Kiku came to welcome him back to the manor, the blond ordered him to send a mass message to the Four Lords to pull out of Rome. Any and every daemon of the Underworld was restricted from the city—not that it was a difficult task in itself. Daemons from the Underworld hardly ever wandered near Rome because of the close proximity to the Vatican. Nevertheless, there were a few exceptions—like hellhounds on patrol and revenants wandering where they shouldn't be.

"Is something the matter, mon cher?" Marianne inquired as she escorted him to the Tower with Angelique and Jia Long following close behind her, each child carrying a tray—one with small cakes and biscuits, the other with a tea set for two. "Qu'est-ce que se passe?"

"Nothing," he answered brusquely. "I'm just securing Romulus Vargas' request."

"His request? Cher, you've finished all of that four years ago!"

After Angelique and Jia Long placed the two trays on top of a makeshift table formed by a collection of mounds of grimoires and tomes, Marianne closed the door behind them and leaned against its surface to prevent Arthur from escaping her questions. She narrowed her eyes dangerously at Arthur and remarked, "Something is wrong. Ever since you've gotten to Rome, you haven't stopped looking after Romano, but now you've retreated."

Arthur shuffled through his multitude of grimoires, tomes, and spell books in the innumerable shelves lining the walls—all of which stretched to the ceiling—to avoid meeting with Marianne's amethyst eyes, and the succubus sighed at her fiancé's restlessness. Realising that he was testing her patience and that all she wanted to do was help him, Arthur paused in his actions and collapsed into the chair at his study.

"I've never loved anyone so much that it hurts," Arthur mumbled softly. Marianne had to strain her ears to hear him speak but eventually caught the words slipping past his lips. "Not with Guinevere, not even with you..."

"You've loved me?"

"Like a sister," Arthur answered quietly as guilt crept over his features. "I've admired you for a long time as one of the strongest women I've known—you and Isabel and Julchen and Amelia and Chiara and Alice. All of you have very strong, very prominent personalities."

"But you don't love us—not any one of us."

"Not in the way that I love him," Arthur admitted.

"I don't think I'm the one who should hear this, cher."

"I can't tell him—not any more. He doesn't remember."

"You can't just give up on him," Marianne insisted, "if you love him so much."

"I don't want to," Arthur agreed, "but I have to."

"C'est des conneries, Arthur!"

"A daemon cannot fall in love with a human, Marianne. It's dangerous for both parties," Arthur seethed bitterly. He knew fairly well that his sharp tone was not directed to Marianne, however. He knew he had no reason to be angered with her; instead, his vexation and vindictiveness was all centred on Arthur himself. He didn't want to make this decision either, but what other choice did he have? In this fashion, none of the parties would be hurt, and life would continue as it was meant and as it would. "You should know; you've seen what's happened to your Patron."

"But he does not regret it!" Marianne snapped adamantly. "There is no rule stating such either, and you know that as well—being king, n'est-ce pas? You will be miserable for the rest of your life if you do not pursue this forbidden love of yours, and I—for one—do not want a miserable husband! It makes my long life meaningless and exhausting!"

"If I want to protect him, I have no choice!" Arthur insisted. "He's just going to end up hurt again and again and again! It's an endless cycle, and it'll simply happen over and over and over!"

"If he's going to be hurt, then save him, protect him, cherish him, Arthur!" Marianne persisted. "Do not throw him aside! You are not weak, and you can protect him. The question is will you? Life will always place obstacles in your path, hindering you from reaching your dreams, Arthur, but that is how you know that you are alive! You may have forgotten after all of these years as a demon prince and a King of the Underworld, but now it is time for you to remember how to live!" Her eyes watered, and her voice cracked, losing its strength and confidence, growing desperate and despondent. "It's okay to do that to me—to throw me aside—because you may not love me as your fiancée, but do not do that to him if you truly love him as your soul mate. I cannot stand being humiliated this way, Arthur. I refuse to be a queen who is not worshipped by her husband."

"Marianne... I'm so sorry..."

"Do as you please," she spat viciously at him, wiping away at her tears with the back of her hand, "but understand that it's not only your life that will have to bear the consequences of your decisions. If you drag me with you, then I may not be able to find my own soul mate as well."

"Wait, you've—?"

"Oho!" she laughed haughtily, rolling her amethyst eyes, regaining her earlier composure as though she had forgotten about what had upset her. "Two can play at the affair game, cher! Some marriage this will turn out to be if we continue down this path!"

Arthur smirked in response. "What? You've already found some poor bastard to sucker into your advances?"

"It's actually a cute little maid who spends her time reading away in your enormous library at the palace more than she does cleaning," Marianne remarked. "She's a cute little rose. It's hard to make her blush like you, but she is much more honest than you are."

"I've never realised you were bisexual," Arthur commented dryly.

"Succubus and incubus are attracted to beauty; gender does not matter in the affairs of attraction," Marianne retorted wryly, upholding the light-hearted conversation. If Arthur was well enough to joke around, then he must have come to some realisation. She would have to leave him to his thoughts since this was a relatively fragile state of mind of his. "I thought you would have known from Francis. He says that you are the most beautiful creature upon whom he's ever laid his eyes; I agree for the most part—very handsome, but not beautiful. My darling rose is beautiful."

"Don't remind me of that perverted wanker," Arthur grunted before flicking his wrist at his fiancée. "Go to your rose then. Why waste your time with me?"

"Mais oui, I wouldn't think of anything else!"

The Frenchwoman slipped out of the Tower, and slipping past the closing door, Kiku shut it silently behind him. "Your Majesty, I've informed the Four Lords, but therein lies a problem..."

"What is it?"

"Køhler-sama and Beilschmidt-sama refuse to leave Rome."

Lovino clenched his jaw as he angrily grounded his coffee beans. Mathias and Gilbert exchanged glances of bewilderment from beyond the counter, wondering what was wrong with their new friend, but made no comment—aloud, of course. They did exchange inaudible whispers Lovino couldn't overhear. That mattered little to him though. What was important was the fact that Arthur had just up and left the damn apartment! Where did the bastard think he was going? Then he had "something to do in the evening"?! What bullshit! If the giant and the fleabag were lingering around his café, then what could possibly occupy that sarcastic bastard's time?!

"Ah."

Lovino's hand stopped its ministrations.

Arthur was getting married in a month.

Obviously, that meant they had to plan some kind of ceremony... But Arthur didn't want to get married, did he? Arthur loved him, right? They were soul mates; their flames matched and shit. That's what his asshole of an uncle had said, anyway, before he had died. Lovino didn't see any reason for Patrick to lie about it, and Arthur certainly didn't deny the claim either. Did that mean it was true then?

"Wow, now he's depressed. Does he have bipolar disorder or something?" Gilbert inquired of Mathias, unaware that his question could be heard across the floor of the café. "Or is that something else?"

"You switch between manic and depressive states in bipolar disorder. I'm not sure if Lovino has that," Mathias corrected, "but you're definitely right about something being wrong with Lovino."

Where the hell was Arthur anyway? How come he hasn't shown up for breakfast or lunch? The blond did like his cooking, right? He said it was delicious the other day... Maybe he had already left Rome. Maybe he really was busy.

Dammit, he really wanted to see him again. It's been four fucking years, and nobody's said anything! Well, Lovino supposed that was because his memories were supposed to be erased. If that was the case, he wondered what the hell Gilbert was still doing here. He was the one who had advocated erasing Lovino's memories in the first place. Nevertheless, it really wasn't that bad to have his company around; he wasn't as bad of a guy as he made himself appear. The bastard had a lot of friends as well, and he cared a lot for Arthur. Maybe, just a little, Lovino could understand why he had made that decision in the first place even though it was clear that—back then—nobody really wanted to do anything to Lovino or his memories. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they discovered that his memories had returned last night though. Just as he began to ponder the possibilities, the Italian came to a startling realisation.

Lovino couldn't risk it.

That's why he spent the rest of the day pretending to be normal and avoiding any one of Gilbert's or Mathias' pestering and prodding questions. To the others, however, he had appeared anxious and nervous the entire day. He hadn't realised that his head was filled with thoughts of Arthur until he was well into the middle of cleaning the floor. Locking up shop, Lovino began to head home, only to bump into another man while he was preoccupied with his thoughts and where his thoughts should be headed, trying to direct the focus away from Arthur because, dammit, it hurt to be thinking about that frivolous bastard!

"Sorry," Lovino muttered quietly to the unsuspecting stranger. When he lifted his eyes, however, he froze immediately upon seeing lavender orbs and snowy blond hair. Even in Rome, this vampire was wearing a heavy winter coat and a knit scarf, dirtied and ragged after years of wear and tear. "You're—!" Lovino immediately bit his tongue, but he feared he had already given too much away.

"Ah, I remember you! You are King Arthur's lover, da? Do you remember me?" he asked in his accented English. Before Lovino could respond, the Count of the Vampires continued speaking, "It is shame you are not immortal. If that was case, we would not be in this situation. King has ordered travelling restrictions on Rome; we are evacuating all Underworld daemons. Foolish love it is, da?"

"I-I don't understand..."

"Silly boy," Ivan chided with that childish smile on his lips, unnerving Lovino more and more, "our king is ensuring that you will be having normal life as human. You want that, da?"

"I... I don't want a life without Arthur..."

"Then you must become immortal," Ivan concluded effortlessly.

"B-But how...?"

Ivan smiled wider before tapping his fangs with a forefinger. "Vampire bites can turn humans immortal no problem," he answered shortly before stepping closer to Lovino. The brunet instinctively took a step back. "You want to live forever, da?"

"N-No," Lovino stammered fearfully as his eyes widened slowly with trepidation as he was gradually overcome with horror. He didn't want to be a vampire. "I just want to live with Arthur."

"Does our king want to live with you?" Ivan returned casually. The smile faltered some, replaced by an expression of genuine curiosity and bewilderment. "I wonder why he restricted access to Rome if he does. It makes no sense, boy." After pondering for another moment, Ivan smiled again, revealing his white fangs. "No sense thinking about it either. Maybe if you get turned, you can live with our king as consort. I do not mind. Saves more time than erasing your memories it does!"

"Lord Braginsky!"

Ivan's progress was halted upon hearing someone call his name. He tilted his head to the side childish as he focused his attention on the person standing behind Lovino. Cautiously, the Italian turned his head to glance behind him and found two individuals standing there. One of them was a young man with shaggy hair a colour between light brown and strawberry blond and eyes the colour of red rubies. Perched precariously on the top of his head was a small top hat while a pearl earring pierced his left ear. Like Ivan Braginsky, he was dressed snugly despite the warm summer weather in a trench coat and boots. Beside him was one of the revenants Lovino recognised from Mathias' family, Lukas, dressed in a dull blue polo with a pair of white jeans secured by a dark leather belt and dark boatman shoes.

"Looks like you found the princess!" exclaimed the red eyed young man as he bounded towards the Count of the Vampires. "We still have to look for Lord Beilschmidt and Lord Køhler though! We don't have time to waste—King's orders!" As he passed Lovino, he gave the brunet a little wink before linking arms with the older vampire and resuming, supposedly, their search for the Head Alpha and Chief.

In the meanwhile, Lukas approached the silent Lovino and remarked in crisp and clear English, "You're an idiot."

Lovino clicked his tongue and scowled, tearing his eyes away from the blond. "What the hell do you know?"

"That you were tempted by Braginsky's offers of immortality," Lukas answered without missing a single beat. "Do you want me to tell you something that you don't know?"

"What, bastard?"

He allowed a small smirk to creep onto his lips, breaking his monotone expression, but still answered in a deadpan, "If he had turned you, you would have died first. Then he would have to offer you some of his own blood to revive your body, but it only works if your soul hasn't left your body yet. There was a fifty percent chance that you would have remained dead, and even if you had survived and been reborn as a vampire, you would have been one of Braginsky's fledglings. That's how it all starts, and it takes at least three or four hundred years to break the bond between a master and his vassal. Immortality isn't a damn joke, you idiot."

"So what do you suggest I do, dammit?"

"Talk to Arthur," Lukas responded offhandedly as he shuffled down the streets of Rome, returning to his frank and curt style of speech. "He would know."

"Know what, bastard?"

"That you remember," Lukas replied shortly. He didn't slow his pace to allow Lovino to catch up with him. He didn't so much turn to look at the Italian either. "The situation would change."

"Like what?"

"Like this shut-down," Lukas remarked dryly, rolling his eyes.

"He loves you like crazy, you know?" a new voice spoke from the shadows. Lukas immediately halted in his steps and pivoted on his heels to glare at the newcomer. Mathias stepped away from the wall against which he was leaning and grinned cheekily at Lukas and Lovino.

"Anko!" Lukas hissed vehemently.

"Hey, Lukas!" Mathias greeted them merrily as though nothing was wrong at all. He began walking in the direction in which Lukas and Lovino were heading, and the latter two followed after him to keep up with his pace. "It's true, you know? He wouldn't be driving himself insane for no reason. I'm assuming you know everything now; I'm not as dumb as you think—Gilbert, too. We wouldn't be Lords if we were; you were acting strange this morning. Then we got word from Arthur about this shut-down and decided, nah, let's not leave this joint when there's still so much to do." His grin softened into an encouraging smile. "Sorry about what happened four years ago, Lovino. Everyone was scared about you being in the Underworld; it was mortifying for the conservatives. It might be forbidden for a human and a daemon to love each other, but it's not impossible. Cambions are the proof of that, right?"

"That, or lust," Lukas remarked at Lovino's side. The brunet was now stuck between the two revenants. "Arthur might be a closet pervert."

"Well, yeah," Mathias admitted begrudgingly with an awkward shrug of his broad shoulders. "Anyway, I'm on your side! That's why Gilbert and I stayed back. You understand, right, Lukas?"

"Still don't like it," Lukas responded bluntly, crossing his arms. "So what now?"

"Well, we can't risk turning him," Mathias muttered under his breath as he scratched his head with a single finger, trying to conjure a solution to remedy all of their problems. "It's dangerous if a vampire does it. Lovino's soul is probably too good to be barred from Heaven and Hell if he's Arthur's soul mate, so he can't become a revenant like us. He can't become a werewolf since he's not a warrior—or warrior material—to be made into a Gatekeeper like Gilbert and the others. That leaves signing your name into the Black Book, but like hell Arthur's going to let you do that."

"Why not? He doesn't have to know, right?" Lovino inquired dubiously.

"No, it's called the Devil's Black Book of Names for a reason," Mathias responded pointedly with a sigh of disappointment at a lack of solution. "You try to summon a familiar, and if you succeed, then your name is automatically submitted into the Black Book because the Scribe keeps track of everything related to magic. He's like a historian or a record keeper. The Black Book is actually one of Arthur's belongings since he is the Devil; that way he knows who's a witch or a warlock."

"Why? It makes everything sound more complicated..."

"It's like Santa's naughty or nice list," Mathias responded casually with a shrug. "Only in this case the question is who gets to go to Hell or gets to be reborn. It also helps with regulating the universal balance and all of that complicated stuff."

"So getting my name into this Black Book," Lovino concluded, "would mean I could become immortal... but Arthur would know about me signing my name, and that would ruin everything."

"Knowing him," Mathias deduced, "he'll erase your name from the list and make sure that you stay human."

"Why?" Lovino whispered. "He doesn't want me to stay with him?"

"It's not that," Lukas interjected shortly. "He doesn't want you to relinquish your humanity. That's how witches and warlocks become immortal; they're no longer humans. There is another option, however."

"What would that be?" Mathias pressed curiously. The three of them stopped in front of Lovino's apartment. The brunet hadn't even noticed that they were escorting him home, but now he felt uncomfortable as they stared at him unlocking his door with his silver key.

"The Elixir of Life," Lukas answered shortly.

Mathias roared with laughter, inviting himself into Lovino's apartment the moment the Italian managed to unlock his front door. He seemed unaware of Lovino's grunt as he had unknowingly crashed his arm into the smaller man's shoulders and just as obliviously continued with his remark, "You know that doesn't exist even in the Otherside! Elixir of Life! Can you believe this guy, Lovino? He's such a joker!"

Lovino grumbled indignantly under his breath after Lukas followed Mathias inside the apartment, "How should I know if I can believe him, bastard?" The Italian closed the door firmly behind him and locked it with a satisfying click.

"Now that we're here," Mathias boomed, "no vampire can come uninvited! Just don't open your door throughout the night, and you'll be safe by morning! Vampires can't stand sunlight!"

The frown hadn't slipped from Lovino's lips. "What were you saying about this Elixir of Life?" he asked of Lukas without a moment of hesitation. "What is it?"

The smaller of the blonds seemed indifferent by Lovino's question, taking to the leather couch immediately, and began to flip through the channels of the TV, cruising idly and giving only a hint of a frown when he realised all of the programmes were in Italian. When Lovino was about to bark at him, Lukas responded once his succinct curiosity subsided, "It's exactly what the name entitles. It's an elixir that grants everlasting youth and infinite life, but just as Anko had said, it's practically a myth. If it was that easy to make the Elixir of Life, almost every mortal would try to get their hands on it—the power hungry ones, at least."

"So it does exist?" Lovino inquired further.

"In theory," Lukas answered nonchalantly. "But it's difficult to make."

Mathias posed his own question to prevent Lovino from asking if the younger Viking could produce such an elixir, "Without the Philosopher's Stone, that is?"

"Right," Lukas confirmed just had coolly and collectedly.

"Philosopher's Stone?" Lovino repeated.

"A tiny little rock that is said to be able to transform even lead into gold, create a universal panacea, and grant a life of immortality," Mathias explained with a weak smile. "Humans have been searching for it for centuries—alchemists, namely—but there's been a decline since the seventeenth, eighteenth century. It might as well be another myth, but several mages from the Underworld and witches and warlocks from the Surface World alike consider its existence to be real."

"Is it real?" Lovino questioned sceptically.

"You can make one," Lukas answered. Reclining in the couch, he added, "It just takes a long time to perfect. Not everyone can make one. Again, it's not that easy. If it was, then everyone would have one."

"Can you make one?"

"It depends," Lukas remarked dryly, focusing his lifeless eyes on Lovino. Despite the fact that both Lukas and Mathias were revenants, reanimated corpses, the smaller of the two Vikings appeared empty of emotions, serving as a stark contrast between the two revenants, and it unnerved Lovino. When the blond noticed that Lovino was expecting more of an answer, a sort of clarification, the younger Viking sighed and continued, "Can I possibly make a Philosopher's Stone? I can, but the chances of it actually being a genuine Philosopher's Stone is slim—less than one percent. There is also the question if I am willing to risk my existence in the afterlife for your messy little love life." When a baffled expression overcame Lovino's face, Lukas remarked, "There's a reason why only a few mages undertake such an experiment. It's a matter of equivalent exchange; what will you risk for such a powerful but 'tiny little rock,' as Anko had put it? Sometimes the sacrifice is not enough, and the transmutation ends in failure as well as loss."

"Right, the success rate is pretty low," Mathias recalled as he plopped onto the couch as well. "If I remember correctly, a lot of Emperors from the East died from elixir poisoning."

"It's because they were putting things like mercury and liquid gold into it," Lukas grumbled. "What idiots... You'd think they'd realise that the ingredients come from the Otherside, but, even then, they're difficult to gather." He turned to Lovino, arching an eyebrow, and asked, "So? What will you do?"

Lovino pursed his lips together and responded slowly, "I... I don't know, dammit."

"Well, for starters, how about you take your head out of your arse and think properly, you daft little git?"

Lovino whirled on his heel and found Arthur glaring vehemently at him, Mathias, and Lukas. "H-H-How d-did you—?"

"I said that vampires can't enter a residence uninvited, but I didn't say the same applied to demons," Mathias remarked sheepishly before he stood up and snatched Lukas by the hand. "See you around, Lovino, Arthur! We're going to meet with our brothers to scare some thugs into wetting their pants!"

"Hurry up and get out of Rome while you're at it, you bleeding wanker!"

"No can do! Not until you change your mind! This is a sit-in!"

With that, Mathias and Lukas disappeared into the night. Arthur crossed his arms in front of Lovino, hardening his emeralds at an absolutely terrified Italian. "Immortality is no joke, Lovino," he hissed. "I can't believe you were considering something like that! I sensed that you were in danger, so I came rushing and bumped into Vladimir in the way! You know what he told me? You were almost turned by bloody Ivan Braginsky! Are you an idiot? No, don't answer that; I don't want to hear it."

"I had to do something!" Lovino snapped. "You were going to get married, you bastard! I can't do anything if I'm just a human, can I? I know how powerless I am, okay? I realised that four years ago when you were... you were lying there, helpless and dying, in a pool of your own blood, and I couldn't do anything." His body wrecked with tremors, and he was unable to control the shuddering of his shoulders. He hid his eyes behind his right hand, not wanting Arthur to see the tears dripping from his eyes. Dammit, he didn't want to cry. He didn't want Arthur to see how weak he was, how powerless he was, not again, not like this. "You've protected me. You've always protected me, but I can't do a damn thing for you. You're such a bastard! How come you're this hard to please, dammit?"

A cold hand firmly grasped Lovino's wrist, pulling it away from the Italian's tear-stained face, while another cupped his cheeks delicately. Forcing himself to raise his eyes, he met with Arthur's hard gaze as the blond expertly wiped away his tears with the pad of his thumb. His cool flesh brushed against Lovino's skin tenderly and adoringly despite his cool eyes. "I wasn't counting on you remembering," Arthur whispered softly. "I was prepared to give up on you, to give you a better life away from all of this..."

"Now what?" Lovino retorted snidely though his voice was weak and his own resolve was lacking. "I remember. Now what are you going to do about it?"

Arthur's eyes softened immediately. "What indeed?" he exhaled breathlessly, stilling Lovino's pounding heart. "I want to take care of you. I want to protect you. I want to treasure you and cherish you for as long as I live, through sickness and health, for better or poorer, until death do us part... And it breaks my heart knowing that you can die any moment; as a human, you're more fragile than I am. Look at me, I can take three stab wounds from a longsword and still live. I can grasp the blade of a knife without feeling much pain because to me it's like a paper cut or a scrape to the knee for a human. Still, even knowing the differences between us and our existences, I want to love you." He smiled weakly. "Isn't that ridiculous?"

"It's not," Lovino muttered just as quietly, slowly regaining his heartbeat. He rested his hands against Arthur's, grasping it tightly, "Because then that means I'm ridiculous, too. I'm not; I know I'm not. I know it's better if we went our separate ways, but I don't want to do that. I want to be with you—forever and ever. We... We promised, didn't we?"

So stay with me! Explain everything I don't know to me! Be by my side forever and ever, got it?

Yes, of course. You have my word, my promise, my heart and soul—well, my essence, more like... You can have it all, Lovino. I'm a king, so you can have whatever you'd like. If you wish me to live, I'll live. If you wish me to live with you, then I'll do it; I'll stay by your side forever and ever.

"Are you going to go back on your word?" Lovino persisted bitterly. "Are you going to leave me?"

Arthur crumbled, collapsing to his knees and burying his face into Lovino's middle, wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller man's waist. "I don't want to," he whispered, clinging closer when Lovino threaded his fingers through his mousy blond locks. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to lose you. I want to love you for the rest of my life—just you and only you. You're my soul mate, Lovino. Your flames are my own. I love you, but I want you safe."

"Then I'll stay at your side. There's no safer place," Lovino persevered, falling to his knees as well and resting Arthur's head against his shoulder as he buried his face into the unruly strands of pale gold. "I love you, too, bastard, more than anything else in the world. I never want this to end. No matter what happens, I'll support you, so protect me and keep me safe—treasure me and cherish me for as long as we live. Do we have a deal?"

Their chests tightened as Arthur nodded his head.

"It's a deal."

Arthur pulled away from the embrace and held the sides of Lovino's face gently, bringing his lips forward to meet with Lovino's plush lips, locking them together in a chaste kiss. The brunet couldn't suppress a smile and returned the kiss with much more vigour and passion, and the demon deepened their kiss, confirming their contract. They moulded together, pressing closer and closer, and when that contact was not enough, Lovino hastily clutched at the fabric of Arthur's clothes, tearing them away. The blond hurriedly reciprocated his actions, distracting the younger man by fluidly slipping his tongue between Lovino's parted lips and dominating the Italian entirely, eliciting a wanton moan from the brunet. However, when Lovino's head fell back, overwhelmed by the sudden intensity, he made contact with the wall behind him and winced, accidentally clamping down on Arthur's tongue. The Briton hissed in pain as the bite drew blood and immediately pulled away.

"Shit! Are you okay, bastard?"

"Bloody hell, I thought you were going to sever my tongue," Arthur muttered, sucking the excess blood from his wound and nursing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Never mind me, you all right?" His eyes widened as he saw a faint trickle of blood slip past the corner of Lovino's mouth. "Oh no... Oh no, no, no, no!"

"Che cazzo?" Lovino inquired as panic and fear slowly overwhelmed him.

"Do not swallow any of my blood, understood?! Spit it out right now!" Arthur demanded immediately, holding out his hand for Lovino to spit the traces of his blood.

"What the hell, bastard?!"

"Don't question me! Just do it! That's demonic blood, Lovino! Do you understand the gravity of the situation? Less talking! You'll contaminate your saliva and swallow it by accident!"

"Dammit, you fucking bastard, now you tell me?! I've already swallowed some of that shit!"

"What?"

"It was instinct! If something is in your mouth, you either swallow or regurgitate it!"

"Why didn't you do the latter?!"

"I don't fucking know!" Lovino's anger subsided to give way to fear. "S-So what's going to happen now?"

"Oh, bloody hell, I don't know," Arthur confessed, pulling Lovino into his arms. "This has never happened before... At best, your body can fight off the intrusion because there's magic in my blood—supernatural forces—and it senses that it's abnormal. Hopefully, you've only swallowed an insignificant amount, nothing that can cause any real damage, but... worst case, your body cannot defend itself, and my blood poisons you. Dammit, this isn't... this wasn't supposed to happen."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"It could be slowly acting..."

"Then sleep with me." Arthur's eyes met with Lovino's determined gaze. The Italian smiled wryly. "Until death do us part, remember?" Lovino's fingers traced the matching pentacle on Arthur's chest, placed right over his heart. "We're bound by this contract anyway. You'll have my soul, won't you? Keep it safe for me." Lovino leaned closer and pressed another chaste kiss onto Arthur's lips. "Come on, lover boy," the Italian teased with a confident smile on his lips. He stood onto his feet and led Arthur by the hand. "My bedroom is this way."

"Is this really the time, Lovino? This is serious! Nobody knows the after-effects of swallowing a demon's blood, especially fucking blue blood," Arthur reasoned, his voice choking, as he stumbled behind Lovino in the hallway. "It can kill you; my blood can kill you. We should find Yao Wang as well as my brothers and Lukas and Vladimir and figure out what will happen from here!"

"You bastard," Lovino snapped firmly, demanding absolute obedience, as he pulled his lover into his bedroom, "nothing is happening. I feel fine. Maybe you're just overreacting."

"I think I ought to be since you're not!"

"If something does happen," Lovino insisted, "then I want to be with you when it does. Is that too much to ask for? We have a contract, Arthur. This is my request: I want to be with you until the end, dammit." His eyes flashed dangerously, closing the bedroom door behind him and leaning against it to reaffirm his decision. He threw his arms around Arthur's neck, pulling the demon closer and locking their lips together. His tongue brushed against Arthur's lips, secretly asking for access, tasting the faint metallic sensation of his blood, lukewarm and sickly sweet as it was. "Please, just let me be with you. I want to love you, too."

Arthur kissed back gently—once, twice, three times more—and inhaled his scent sharply, wrapping his long, lean arms around Lovino's shoulders and snaking them around the Italian's waist. "My love is rather dangerous. Are you sure? I won't go easy on you."

"The same goes for me, you bastard. It's been four years; I've been waiting for you for four years even though I had no idea who the hell I was waiting for," the Italian whispered sensually in his lover's ear. "I've always been trying to remember; I've always known it was important. I'm never letting this go, capito? Now it's my turn to say this: if you want me to live, I'll live. If you want me to stay with you, I'll stay with you forever and ever. I won't die and leave you alone, bastard. Not here, not now, not like this. Who's going to take care of you when I'm gone? I'm not letting anyone else have you; you're mine, mio angelo prezioso."

Arthur chortled lowly, his breath tickling the shell of Lovino's ear, before he whispered, "That's quite a confession, my darling little spitfire. All right," he pressed a kiss to Lovino's temple, "I'm taking you with me—no matter where I go—beyond Earth, beyond even Heaven and Hell—to our paradise. I won't ever let you go—never again."

The blond wrapped his arms around Lovino's waist, cupping his bottom and forcing the younger to snake his legs around Arthur's hips, and locked their lips together in another dangerous kiss. While Lovino was entirely distracted, the Briton carried him over to the bed, dropping the Italian onto the mattress without further ado. The brunet narrowed his hazel eyes at the sudden treatment before his vengeful visage dissipated with yet another kiss. Arthur's lips brushed against his own before trailing down to his jaw, tracing his cheeks, and nibbling at the flesh behind his ear that connected to his neck, marking the young man as his eternal lover.

He relished those wanton moans and heavy breathing and lewd pants. Again and again, he kissed Lovino's exotic flesh, marking every surface of his body within his reach, relentlessly and mercilessly. However, in spite of his aggression, the brunet could feel it—the tenderness and adoration in his touches and caresses—and he revelled in Arthur's endless love throughout the night, bathing in it, soaking in it, drowning in it, embracing it and welcoming it with his own arms, until he fell asleep in Arthur's tender embrace.

Emerald gems flashed with concern.

"I can feel it, you know?" Arthur whispered to his sleeping lover. "I am a demon, after all. I can sense these sorts of things, my little spitfire. I can feel your life energy, the essence of your being, you know?" Tears blurred his vision as he buried his face into Lovino's rich, silky hair. A shaky exhale and a choked sob wrenched from his throat as he murmured underneath his breath into the silence of the night, "I can feel it slipping away from you."

He pressed another kiss to Lovino's forehead and sensed a faint trickle of energy slipping from his being into the other's. Arthur closed his eyes and hoped that he wouldn't mess this up. Just this one spell. One more time. This was crucial. Please, please, please...

"You better not die on me, spitfire. I'm not through with you yet."

A/N: Thank you for all of your support up to this point! This is the second to last chapter, so I wonder what will be of Lovino now!