It was strange, Adam mused as he watched them go about their lives, how much humans fear.

He could see it written along their faces. Muted, diluted perhaps, but behind their every word and action he could discern their fears.  Rejection was a prominent one. Failure, another. So many different things he could see flitting through their minds, and all of it... irreplaceable.

Oh, how he wished he was capable of fear.

Adam himself had felt it once, a long, long time ago; he could hardly recall the feeling. All throughout his early life, in fact, he had been afraid - a surge of ironic amusement bubbled up in his chest as he recalled he had even been teased in school for being so skittish (not unlike a deer, he pondered now, ready to bolt at any moment, at the slightest provocation). How trivial their taunts seemed now, now that the very concept was well and truly beyond his own rationale.

No, Adam was beyond fear now.

The park bench creaked softly as he stood, not a soul even so much as sparing him a glance. The last of his coffee drained, Adam disposed of the cup and began to walk.

London was a beautiful city, at least in his eyes. It hadn't always been that way, however - he had resented it as a child; with its big, wide streets and pompous grandeur, the city streets had been rather imposing to the boy. Adam recalled the way his father would stare out at the city from their fourth-floor residence (one of the tallest in the city at that point) and say, 'This is your city, boy. Take pride in it.' The words had been a recurring theme in his childhood.

One-hundred-and-ten years and many travels later, Adam had finally reconciled that the beautiful city before him, his birthplace, wasn't where he truly belonged.

London was no longer his city.

And with that melancholy thought, the century-old man hailed a taxi.

"London Airport," he told the man, receiving a nod in reply.

The girl of his dreams awaited him in Santa Monica.

-

A swell of giddy excitement swept Adam away at the thought of seeing her again. The immortal man was almost visibly excited as he wandered up the final street en-route to her house - the stress lines on his face, out of place on one who looked so young, had noticeably receded, and his dark eyes showed a smile the stoic man's face wouldn't quite show.

It was, decidedly, the face of a man in love.

He had met her on his travels some time ago - a chance meeting in a coffee shop turned into something more. The memory was one of his dearest.

Crossing the road to her house, he came to a slow halt in front of the door. A small smile broke out on his face as he anticipated her reaction to seeing him again, and this time he let it grow - in a world suffering under the weight of its own people, she was more than a breath of fresh air.

She was his reason to go on.

The rational side of his brain told him that what he was doing was dangerous, that placing so much faith in one woman was foolishness, that she would eventually disappoint, just like all the others. Adam crushed that part ruthlessly under his metaphorical heel - this time, he was not going to fail... this time, he would have his happy ending.

He knocked on the door.

There was no way he could have been prepared for what was on the other side; and as the polished oak swung open, Adam's world came crashing down around his ears.

"Can I... help you?" The unfamiliar man spoke.

There was a wedding ring on his hand.

Adam stared for three long seconds, face betraying nothing as to his inner turmoil. His heart pounded in his chest, drumming a staccato rhythm against his ribs. Those three seconds were the longest of his life, as his mind sluggishly came to realise the truth.

I was too late.

"I- No. I'm sorry, I... must have the wrong address." The words sounded awkward even to him, and it showed on the stranger's face.

"Right." The other man slowly drawled, scratching his short blonde beard with a finger and raising an eyebrow. "Well, if there's nothing else...?"

"... Yeah." Adam nodded and turned away, and just as the door swung closed, he heard her voice from inside.

"Who was it?"

"Some random guy. Wrong door."

SLAM.

-

Adam drank again that evening, for the first time in 57 years.

Where had he gone wrong? He tried to rationalise the situation in his head, as he was wont to do in times of... emotional turbulence.

Why had she moved on without him? What about that man had made him the better partner? Was it money? No, Adam himself was rather well off from years of investment and patience - when you don't age, there's plenty of time to make money, and with such a nomadic lifestyle, he hadn't ended up paying much money at all, leaving it to pile up in a bank under the name of a man who didn't exist. So what else?

Fame? No, the woman he knew would never have given him up for fame, and besides, that man looked neither especially handsome nor absurdly rich. So what made him unique?

The answer came to him just as the familiar fog of inebration descended over his mind.

There was nothing that made that man special. Nothing at all... apart from the fact that he'd been there.

While Adam had been finding closure for his past, she had been waiting... and he had forgotten one crucial thing...

He didn't age. All the people around him, everyone in the world, they all felt different things, they all looked different, but they all moved forwards in a way that Adam didn't... they walked down a road that had a definite end, while he just kept on walking, with no end in sight.

When he looked down at the modern city of London, he had marvelled; how busy, how hurried they had all seemed. And their urgency was driven by one sole thing - their mortality. It was what gave them purpose. Someday, the road would come to an end for them. They would die, and that was it. They feared that end; it terrified them. Fear was the emotion that lay beneath all the other fears of mankind.

And Adam lacked the fear of death, because he would never die. He just... couldn't.

As such, time was different to him. Meaningless. And he'd taken too long.

He'd been too late because for all that time he'd looked upon the mortal men he lived amongst, he'd never found the truth.

Death, ironically enough, was life's meaning, and with death forever looming above her, she'd moved on, because he wasn't worth the wait.

Adam's bleak thoughts faded to nothing as he slipped off his barstool, blessed with sweet unconsciousness.

-

Weeks later, he saw her again.

He didn't know why he was still in Santa Monica. The place had been tainted by his discovery; all those fond memories, the laughter, the smiles, the sweet-sounding promises of forever whispered into her ear - all shadowed by the knowledge that for all that he loved her, she would never be his.

He watched from the coffee shop as she sat down on a park bench, an odd mirror of what he'd done not a month ago in his birth city. A bitter taste in his mouth, he stood to leave, and walked out of the door - but there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to walk over to her, to talk to her again.

Adam had never been all that good at resisting temptation.

And though his rationale protested his every step, he forced himself to walk over to the bench.

The wood creaked as he sat.

He said nothing, and the city continued around them. She hadn't even seen him, too absorbed in the scenery to notice. A newspaper sat forgotten on her lap; she was on break from work, he guessed from her attire, and her jet black hair was neatly brushed and tied back, revealing eyes of a startling blue staring off into the distance. He could get lost in them for hours; had done, once upon a time.

Finally, he spoke.

"Hello, Lily."

Her head whipped around to him so fast he swore she should have whiplash, and he would have been amused had the situation not commanded such seriousness.

"Adam?!" The minuscule, bitter part of him relished the shock in her voice, written on her face. "Adam, what are you doing here?!"

He turned to face her, hands clasped in his lap. Sighing, he spoke again.

"I came here for you."

There was silence as Lily processed that information. He could see emotions flit across her face; confusion, shock, fear, before settling on anger.

"You came here... for me... even though you left for five years?" She put extra stress on those last words and he winced slightly, a small twitch of the face being his only outward reaction.

"Yes."

Slap!

"How dare you?" This wasn't the reaction he'd expected, but it was probably the one he deserved. "What? Do you expect me to leap back into your arms like the day you left me, promising you'd be back before long? I wasn't aware that before long constituted half a goddamn decade, Adam!"

Adam said nothing.

"Well? Say something!"

"... You moved on." Stated the man impassively.

"Damn right I did! Do you have any idea what I went through? No visits. No calls. Not even so much as a message. I thought you'd died! I damn well mourned for you, and here you are like nothing happened?!" Lily took a breath. "No. I'm not dealing with this right now." She stood, newspaper discarded. "I'm done with you. You're right. I moved on, and I married a man who would actually stay with me. And you know what? I hope I never see you again!"

"Lily, wait!" Adam called after, rising from his seat, the first signs of emotion entering his voice. She didn't respond.

As she stormed off, Adam sat down again, and he rested his head in his hands.

What have I done?

-

Adam returned two years later, but it wasn't for her. One of his investments required his attention; he didn't care all that much, but as a major shareholder he was expected to attend in person and as much as he'd like to avoid the city entirely, he had to put aside his personal issues with the place for the good of the company.

He was just glad he didn't have to do this often.

Dressed in an expensive navy suit, his dark, curly hair tamed and swept back, he stepped into the foyer of the building, turning heads as he went. Adam didn't need to fake his confidence - he had done this so many times it was practically routine to him.

Stepping into the elevator, he took no notice of the shorter man next to him until they accidentally brushed shoulders. Adam looked at him, only to rapidly school his darkening countenance as he came face to face with the very man Lily had married. 'Remain civil.' He told himself. 'You're here on business.'

So he said nothing, and they both stepped out of the elevator together. The meeting soon commenced.

-

Business concluded shortly thereafter, and as the other men and women filed out, Adam felt a hand on his shoulder. Lily's husband, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, baby-faced snake of a man who had somehow slithered his way into the position of CEO, stared back at him.

"A moment of your time, Mister Jones."

Adam hummed impatiently, glancing at his watch. His flight left in an hour and a half; he hoped this would be quick - rescheduling would be a painful, unnecessary task.

"I understand you have a history with my wife."

And with that, he had Adam's full attention.

"I would like to let you know that she's expressed a rather strong desire not to see you again." Adam's hands twitched. How he'd love to wrap them around the audacious bastard's throat... "She told me that if I ever saw you, I was to inform you."

"Liar." Adam growled. "Lily isn't that petty, and I didn't have any intent on talking to her anyway. She's made her point clear."

"On the contrary," the man smiled an unpleasant smile, "those are exactly her words."

Adam was silent for a minute.

"That's not the woman I knew."

"The woman you knew vanished when you left her behind." He tensed. "I suppose I should thank you, actually." Adam sent him a dangerous look, but the man forged onward, a smug expression forming on his features. "Thanks to you, she fell right into my arms-"

The next moment, there was blood on Adam's fist and the smug CEO was out cold on the floor. A clerk screamed; he saw her out of the corner of his eye with her phone to her ear, and he caught a snippet of the response.

'911, what is your emergenc-'

Adam ignored the rest. He scoffed at the prone body of the blonde asshole, subtly relishing the satisfaction that releasing his pent-up emotions brought him.

"Bastard." He muttered darkly under his breath.

Adam spent that night in jail.

Guess I won't be catching that flight.

-

Half a decade came to pass. Adam had finally caught up with the times and now even possessed a mobile phone - not that it did him much good, given his lack of friends or even social interaction. He lived alone in a penthouse in central LA - as much as the state of California had wreaked havoc on his emotional state, after five years he had moved on enough to look past it and he couldn't deny the appeal of living there.

The room was dark and the air hung heavy in the air, saturated by the smoke coming from the spliff in Adam's hand. With nothing else to do, he had reverted to old habits - drinking and smoking marijuana were not unfamiliar to the immortal, and provided some much needed release. For others, such habits would be signs of addiction and would be a cause for concern. Adam didn't care; he couldn't die.

He picked a potato chip from the packet on the coffee table and munched on it idly, musing over what his life had become.

It had been 107 years, give or take, since he stopped aging. The event that sparked it all came clearly to his mind and he suppressed it viciously - it was a memory he'd much rather forget - but tonight it seemed it wouldn't stop plaguing his mind, so he grudgingly allowed it to play out in front of his eyes.

Adam was facing judgement day.

He was a young man, no older than twenty five, laying huddled in a muddy ditch, shaking uncontrollably. Bullets whizzed overhead; every few seconds, the sound of an explosive shell would rock the trench and redoubled the terror that clung to the young, able-bodied men who were stationed there, like a persistent stench.

Blood stained the duckboards; every few seconds he'd glance up at his commanding officer, praying the order wouldn't come.

Alas, it wasn't to be.

"77th, over the top on my signal!" The moustached man yelled, and every boy and every man flinched. Some began praying; others clung to their rifles with grim determination; but fear held them all. They'd seen what happened to those who went over.

And then the whistle went off, and with a terrified war cry, Adam leapt forward, climbing the ladder and running forward into the gunsmoke and the fog, hundreds doing the same on either side of him. The staccato, irregular rattling of mounted guns began and just like that, men began to fall.

Adam made it to the other side, but that was only the beginning. With a furious cry, a German soldier charged, a bayoneted rifle poised to end him, and Adam moved frantically, pushing the knife aside with his left hand and jabbing his rifle into the man's throat with his right.

A gurgling cry sounded and blood spilled from the man's lips, and with a furious, bestial roar Adam pulled the trigger, blasting a shot through the man's spine and separating head from body.

Blood flowed from Adam's hand from the knife; it was unusable, but that was the least of his problems. A garbled cry from German forces in the communication trenches went out, and suddenly grenades were flying.

Adam caught one and threw it right back, savagely relishing the cry of shock that resulted, but it wasn't enough; the explosion that resulted from the collective detonations sent shrapnel everywhere and Adam screamed as his right side was torn asunder.

Landing harshly next to a German munitions supply, he gasped in sheer agony as blood flowed from an empty eye socket; and he felt almost relieved in his final moments when the enemy fire reached the supply and sent the whole thing up in a great fireball, one that made his end instant and painless.

And then he woke up in the crater, unharmed.

A knocking at his door brought him out of his reverie.

He stood unsteadily, dazed from both the flashback and the drug flowing in his system. Making his way cautiously to the door, he swung it open.

He didn't expect who was on the other side.

"Hey, Adam... can I come inside?" Lily asked him nervously, studying his reaction intently.

He stared at her for a long moment before sighing and standing aside.

A few minutes later, they were seated in Adam's expansive living room, staring at one another. The spliff sat, snuffed out and discarded on the table between them.

"So..." Adam spoke, baritone voice slightly raspy from smoke. "... Whadda you want?"

"Can't I be here for a good reason?" She countered, slightly defensive. She crossed her arms over her notable bust and leaned back, awaiting his response.

"You could, but you're probably not. Now how's about we get on with it?" Sighed Adam impatiently.

Lily was silent for a minute before sighing.

"Travis kicked me out."

"Who?"

"Travis. My soon-to-be ex-husband." She spat bitterly.

"Finally realised he's a cock, did you?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"I walked in on him having an affair."

"... Ah." Adam's other eyebrow raised to meet the first. "And that's not the first time that happened?"

"It was the first time I knew." She confessed quietly. "But he told me it wasn't the first, or even the tenth. Right before telling me to get out."

"I'm glad I cold-cocked the prick then." Adam smirked humourlessly. "Sounds like he deserved it."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence.

"Adam... I'm sorry." Lily whispered. Adam heard her clearly.

"What for?"

"I was angry, and... I lashed out at you. I know you can't help it, because of your... condition... it was selfish of me and I shouldn't have done it."

"You were right to be angry." Adam shook his head. "It was my fault. I never realised the effect it would have on you until I came back."

"Still..."

"Nope. It was my mistake that drove us apart, and I hope you can forgive me for that." Adam averted his eyes. His gaze snapped back up when Lily stood, walked around the table and sat next to him.

"I could never hate you, Adam." She spoke softly and the sincerity in her words threw Adam for a loop. She stared directly into his eyes and he could see the honesty in her gaze. "I hope you know that."

He took a moment to respond. Her proximity was distracting in ways he thought he'd forgotten.

"Yeah... I know."

Their lips met in a soft kiss, filled with long-repressed emotions, but any innocence soon evaporated. As they pulled apart, Adam grinned slightly.

"Fancy one?" He spoke, gesturing to the unlit spliff on the table. Her initial indecision evaporated quickly, and soon both were enjoying their highs; Lily slipped into Adam's lap and captured his lips once again, and soon enough the two found themselves in the bedroom enjoying a night of passion and pleasure.

-

As they lay in Adam's bed after their 'nightly activities', a thought came to Adam's intoxicated brain.

"I can't believe you married a guy named Travis." He giggled softly, still in the throes of his high. Lily soon joined him in his giggling fit, and he pulled her close. She sighed happily.

"I love you, Adam." Adam tensed slightly, but forcibly relaxed. "I never really stopped."

Her part said, Lily succumbed to her slumber, and Adam ran a hand through her hair fondly.

"Love you too."

-

Adam married her a year and a half later. She had been delighted when he popped the question, even more so than he had hoped. Their marriage ceremony was a small affair; Adam, having no family left, felt slightly alone in comparison to Lily's rather extensive family.

Several decades later, the marriage held strong.

-

Adam sat in the hospital, a heart monitor rhythmically beeping away next to his head. His hand lay in the bed, clutched by that of his wife's; older, wrinklier, but unmistakably belonging to his Lily.

"It's tonight." The doctor had said, and he could see it in her eyes; she knew her time had come, and she embraced it.

"It's nearly time, Adam." Lily's voice sounded loud and clear, and he met her eyes. Adam smiled sadly. He had long since come to terms with his wife's mortality; in doing so, he had vowed to ensure her life was the single happiest one she could have lived. He had done his absolute best to be the best husband he could be, and both were satisfied with what they had.

"I know." He nodded, squeezing her hand softly. A softer, weaker squeeze was returned.

Minutes passed in content silence.

"I'll miss you." Lily spoke again. "You'll never pass on... but you know that."

"I do."

"This is the last time we'll ever meet."

"It is."

Another moment of silence.

"I love you, Lily. To the very end." A tear slid over Adam's young cheek.

"I love you too... goodnight, Adam..." His wife spoke softly, happily, and with those final words, passed into unconsciousness.

Minutes later, the heart monitor flatlined.

"... Goodnight, Lily."

Leaning forward, Adam placed a final kiss on his wife's still warm lips, before standing and leaving the room.

-

He'd been preparing for this moment for a long time.

Lily had her Eternity waiting for her in the afterlife - and he had manufactured his.

The corridor led into the depths of the mountain. The walls were a sterile white and completely featureless. He was alone.

The blank surroundings helped Adam - there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts. He reminisced on his life, his mistakes, his many, many deaths - nothing was hidden, nothing was repressed. He looked over the good and the bad, and decided: he was satisfied with what he'd done.

As the final door approached, he thought of his wife - sweet, sweet Lily, the woman he devoted himself to completely. He wouldn't have been able to bear having another if he continued to exist - it would be a betrayal of all that he had promised. She was his one and only.

The door hissed open, leading him into a room that was pitch black, holding only a chair in the centre. There were no lights in the room, nor features - just how he planned. Stripping down to nothing, he sat in the chair, preparing himself for what he intended to do.

His arms on the armrests, legs in designated spots, head against the headrest, he took a moment to psyche himself up.

What he was about to do would surpass even his immortality.

"Computer." A high pitched beep sounded. "Initiate..." he took a deep breath. "Eternity Protocol."

The door hissed closed, leaving the room completely without light.. Cuffs shot out and locked his wrists and ankles and neck in place. Miniscule needles inserted themselves into his veins, and a mask came down over his face.

He would deprive himself of his senses. No sound. No light. No voice. No tastes. No smells. His body would be so full of drugs he wouldn't feel anything.

Oblivion.

As the drugs began to burn their way through his system, he once more thought of his wife; all the good, this time with none of the bad, and with his final moments of consciousness, he whispered:

"Goodnight, Lily."

He could have sworn he heard her voice: "Goodnight, Adam."

He smiled, and embraced his own Eternity.

Adam stopped thinking.

-
A/N
-
Hey there. If you enjoyed the story, leave a vote or a comment. If you didn't enjoy the story, leave some constructive criticism as to what I did wrong - if I made mistakes here, that's good, let me know! If I peaked as a writer at my age, I'd be sorely disappointed.

This is a contest entry for Jane_Conquest's 100-thousand follower contest, ending on 26th June 2018. It's also my first story to be published on the site/app, so hallelujah for that one. Been procrastinating for ages.