They survive, of course they survive. It's what they always do. It's how he became hundred and seventy-some years. And it's how she got through her life.
So, yes. They always do.
But this time it's different. Because it's no longer I survived, it's we survived.
They survived the curse of their lives. They survived the death of her mother, they survived the evil of his mother. They survived everything and everyone driving them apart, but most, they survived waiting.
And no matter how long it's been, it will always be new to him. To have someone right there, next to him. It feels good to have her. And not worry for everyday of his life if she still loves him, if she will leave him for his brother. It feels good to have someone who loves him more than he loves himself.
It's those moments when the sun is so far from showing up. When the sky is in its darkest. When she's right there, lying next to him. Already drifted to sleep by now. When he spends little too long time staring at her, hair all over her face as she lays on her stomach with one hand above the pillow and the other stretched over the bed.
When there's blue light coming from outside and making her skin glow. When his hands reach to put her hair away from her cheeks, and he smiles at her beautiful face.
He remebers those days when they were falling apart, when he walked away, when she 'hated' him. He remembers the dark that they were pulled into, and he remembers coming back.
He remembers her needing her own time. He remembers waiting, god he remembers the torture of it, of dancing around each other with those feelings on the table, and yet ignoring them. He remember the need to hold her and kiss her, and not being able to do it. He remembers those kisses they shared at the end of the day, he remembers the mornings after and how they didn't talk about it.
He remembers it all.
Losing each other for what seemed like the millionth time. And giving up to what they needed, because they just needed each other.
And honestly, he doesn't regret any of it nor wish to change it.
Of course he'd rather be with her earlier. But all this history between them, it's worth it. Wakeing up next to her everyday is worth it. Holding her hands is worth it.
They literally have it all.
And he loves all of it.
He loves it when she hides behind a door to startle him, and he loves how he pretends to be actually startled. He loves when she comes back home with seven dresses – because she felt like shopping, and insists on trying all of them for him. He loves when she kicks his ass in cooking, and the fact that she's only one in his long life who succeeded to.
He loves when they walk down the street and she holds his hand, and how he spins her and start dancing. He's quite aware of the fact that now, he's a big fan of dancing. Dancing with her.
He loves when she introduces him to one of her friends as her friend and boyfriend.
He loves when he catches her staring at him, and how her cheeks turn red after that. He loves the fact, that after all this time, it feels like they got together just yesterday. Everything is the same, her body still tenses when he reaches for her hand. Her heart races when he leans in to kiss her. Oh, he loves it when her heart races.
They walk hand in hand, heading for the beach. And she's beaming like a little girl.
Her head rests on his chest as they lie on the sand, her hand rests just above his heart, eyes closed.
His hands play absently with her hair, it's become a habit by now. He stares to the sky and lets it all sink in. The voice of waves crashing on the shore, the cold breeze hitting his cheeks. The scent of her.
Only now he realizes, that maybe this is how it's supposed to be, happy and peaceful. that it's not always about pain and guilt, there mustn't be someone to run from. That it actually wasn't love that he knew before.
He smiles at the thought of having forever with her, of living everyday of their life in this heaven.
"So," he trails off. "Does that mean that you're ready?"
He can feel her lips pulling into a smile against his chest. Her fingers moving gently to his shoulder, eyes still closed.
"I guess so." She says.