Word Count: 653
"Lost time is never found again."- Benjamin Franklin
The garden is a strangely neutral place, and Abraxas knows that they will not be bothered there. He doesn't know why, exactly. It has always been a sort of haven, that one place he could escape to. Even now, as he nears thirty, it still holds that same promise of safety. All tension and fear fades, and there is only peace as he makes his way along, pausing to smell a particularly fragrant orange flower.
"Abraxas?"
That voice is just as sweet as he remembers. For several decades, he's heard it in his dreams, always tormenting him, reminding of the things he could no longer have. He looks up, and the sight of Druella makes his heart ache. She has a timeless sort of beauty, and the years have only made her more lovely.
"Druella," he whispers, smiling when he sees his letter in her hand. He relaxes slightly, relief washing over him. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."
"I wasn't sure that I would," she admits.
It has been far too long since they've seen one another, but he remembers the days of their youth so clearly. His chest constricts as guilt sours his stomach. Those had been beautiful days of endless wonder. How had he been so foolish as to not cherish them better? How could he have let her slip away?
"My darling Druella."
But she isn't his. She should have been, but he kept quiet when Cygnus had asked for her hand. He still remembers the look of pained betrayal in her eyes as the union was arranged. Abraxas had played by the rules when he should have fought for her, and he has not yet forgiven himself for his cowardice.
"I am miserable without you," he says. "What is the point in building a life if you cannot share it with the one you love?"
His wife is a nice woman, but he doesn't love her. Merlin knows he's tried again and again, but there is no spark, no anything. Their son is quite possibly the only reason he stays, but that admission is too shameful, and he keeps it bottled up inside.
"I should have asked for your hand. We could have run away together, but I am a fool, and I am not sure I can ever forgive myself."
She reaches out, taking his hand gently in hers. "I wish you had been honest," she tells him, guiding his hand to her lips and pressing a chaste kiss to his knuckles. "I was afraid you let Cygnus marry me because you stopped loving me."
A dry laugh escapes his throat. "Stop loving you? No, Dru. Never. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried." He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a fraction of a moment. "I love you so much that it scares me. Acanthia could never compare to you, my love."
"We cannot go back to those days," she says quietly. "We lost those chances."
He nods. It is the most painful truth, but it cannot taint this moment. "We can have our own life, Druella. Even if it isn't proper."
A faint pink stains her cheeks as understanding seems to dawn on her. At first, she says nothing. Several moments pass before she nods. "It will not be perfect, but it will be ours."
And that will have to be enough. It cannot make things right, but it can make them easier.
He pulls a bottle of wine from his pocket, then two glasses. He had Charmed his coat in case she said yes, and now he is glad for the forethought.
"I love you," he says.
"I will always love you," she assures him.
No more missed opportunities. Maybe this will have to be a secret, so carefully kept between them, but it is theirs, and nothing can ever shake that.
