Today

"So, do you still want the house, Sir? Even with its history?" Elizabeta, a real estate worker, asked. The blonde she was assigned to pursed his lips for a moment in thought. The price was right, and the house was in sturdy condition despite being supposedly burned down.

"I'll take it," he finally said.

"That's great!" Elizabeta had thought the house would never sell. Before she could fetch the paperwork, the buyer stopped her just for a moment.

"Is there any proof of what happened?" he asked cautiously. Ah, so this buyer was curious about the past.

"As a matter of fact, yes! I'll be right back." Shortly after, Elizabeta returned with a small pile of letters tied by a now faded brown ribbon. The edges to some were burnt, and the very first letter in view was water-stained.

"This was the only thing they recovered from the fire," she explained.

The minute the delicate papers touched the buyer's hand, a nostalgic look played on his face and his features seemed to have softened.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Though she did not know, Elizabeta had just renewed the spark of a love that was centuries old. A love that would continue to grow, rekindle, and flourish until it came time for the embers to dim. But like embers, those feelings of passion would always return with enough fire. No matter how many lifetimes the two would go through, one thing could be certain. They would always find a way to each other no matter the year or date. It was just a matter of remembering and waiting.

'I'll be waiting for you.'