Summary: Based on the first episode of NBC's Dracula.

Louis & Harry are soulmates. Louis died in a past life and Harry finds him again upon his return to England. It's not as easy as falling in love the first time.

Author: SS98

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"Mother?" Lottie came rushing down the stairs in her navy blue frock, sewn by herself just the day before.

"Sweetheart?" Johanna answers from the kitchen where she's preparing an apple pie for her younger set of twins.

"I can't find your Lou-Bear." She sighs from against the staircase railing. "He's still in the laboratory."

Johanna's expression changes from pleasant to the fire-breathing mother her eldest son will have to face the minute she dragged him home from his little laboratory. He's been there all night for the past five days and being the brilliant medical student that he is, Johanna couldn't be more proud. However, she had specifically asked - told - him to be home by noon so that they could get ready for a banquet.

The banquet is to mark the return home of Master Styles. He's the only descendant of a very old family and is throwing a giant bash to announce something 'extraordinary' in the term Johanna used.

"Come finish this up." She gives her daughter a kiss on the forehead. "I will go fetch your brother."

She mutters about her son's stubborn and anti-social behaviours while she slams the door and hurries down the street.

Louis is finishing up with the cadaver of a pickled frog he had to practise on when he hears his mother call for him.

"Louis William Tomlinson!" She is about to burst through double doors that protected him from her anger.

He washes up his hands and face with the antiseptic liquid that his medical school pays so much for. Stripping off his coat and turning to face her, he bites his bemused lip when she's standing there with crossed arms.

"You are not at home, Louis William." She chastises, pinching his ear lobe so he crouches and hisses in pain.

"Mother!" He whines when people begin to laugh at them, at him. "Mother, let me go!"

"Absolutely not!" She argues, tugging him past their family bank towards their home. "Is it so hard to obey me just this once?"

"But- I tried to- I am just busy, Ma." He sags defeatedly when he's allowed to sit, in the safe confines of their home.

"I know that, son." She cradles his rounded face and watches his remarkable blue eyes shift around. "This is a favour I asked of you."

"I know." He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and apologetically lifts his shoulders. "Should I get ready?"

"Yes!" She agrees. "Hurry along. We are leaving soon."

Louis has been working exceptionally hard as a student, wanting more than anything to be able to support his family once his deceased father's funds ran out. He's headed for the stars, his professor always tells him so.

He has never been an outgoing person except on the slight occasion where his mother bribed him with sweets. Being of his age, he's still a child when it comes to turkish delight. Tonight he's supposed to dance with strangers and laugh with the privileged class of people while his mother did whatever it is she had planned.

"How do you suppose I look?" Lottie waltzes into his room without knocking and announcing herself.

She's wearing a beautiful peach ball gown that was just the right amount of shades darker than her skin, making the blue of her wide eyes pop perfectly. He, in just his trousers and unhooked suspenders, gives her a hug.

"Beautiful as always, baby sister." He grips her upper arms and kisses her cheek. "Why do you never knock, Charlotte?"

"I did not think you deserved it." She sat on his bed and twirled the stubborn locks of straight hair.

Louis pulled on his white shirt and buttoned it up all the way, nervously passing over the scar he always had. It's been there for as long as he can remember and his mother repeatedly told him as did his father, that he was born with it. It lay across his abdomen, straight and risen higher than the rest of his alabaster skin, the marred tissue a little whiter.

"Shall we go?" He asked his sister when he was ready, holding out his arm.

It was a hassle of epic proportions getting the whole Tomlinson household out the door, minus the little ones. They cried and held onto either Louis or their mother, wanting to go with or for everyone to stay home.

"Oh lovely." Louis just couldn't get his one year old baby sister off his coat. "I'll bring you back something expensive?"

She doesn't understand but the look her big brother gives her is one he offers when he's willing to compromise so she unhands him. Johanna takes a bit longer getting Ernest off her dress' front, having to rock him to sleep before the neighbour can take him.

"Anything we've forgotten?" She asks when they're in the carriage, clutching her fan.

They don't think they have so the carriage rolls on. Louis leans against the cold window with his eyes closed, a stomach ache blossoming for the first time today. He ends up falling asleep when they're a few minutes away, already the gigantic mansion is in sight.

Although extremely unusual, Louis' mind loses itself to a heartbreaking nightmare in the eight minutes his mother allows him to rest.

There are flashes of various things he can't piece together even if it feels like they're supposed to be a big masterpiece. Fire, then fire on a stake. The smell of burning wood and skin. He frowns in his slumber. Hot metal and salt infiltrates his system, and he whimpers from the fear. Shouting and crying. He's so sure he's one of the people crying but he doesn't know why. He wakes with a start when the sensation of falling commences, like he's tipped over the tallest building in the world.

"Come along now." Johanna reorganised her dress while she waits for Louis to return to his senses. "The doors are about to close."

Louis discreetly holds his sister's arm as he walks and leans against her more times than he's proud of. The nightmare seems to have taken a lot out of him and he's looking around the room with half-lidded fascination.

"This glass is-" Lottie is hushed by her drowsy brother."This glass is more expensive than our outfits tonight."

"Do you propose we steal one?" He mumbles irritably, earning the scowls and glares of disapproval from passing wealthy individuals.

"Look, brother, it's Master Styles." She nudges him with her shoulder, her own eyes as everyone else's, glued to the descending figure by the grand staircase.

"I'm not bothered." He simply cannot remain standing and without noticing the eyes watching him, retreats to a seat in the far corner of the room.

He's been seated not two minutes when his mother finds him, her face reddened with her disappointment. "Louis William, I asked that you spend a few minutes meeting new people tonight."

"I know, Ma. I am just under the weather." He complains, silently pleading to be left alone.

"Are you ill?" She checks immediately, sitting in the chair closest to him.

"I feel ill."

"Oh sweetheart." She brushes his hair away from his eyes, her back to the man who is watching them intently.

After Louis convinces her that he'll be fine to wait for them to finish up before they all leave together, Johanna returns to the party. He realises how exquisitely decorated his table is and how each glass seems to have such intricate details that they could tell a story.

He senses someone to his right and groans. "Ma, I'm alright! I just- oh."

The face tilted towards him is definitely not his mother's and the light amusement dances across the stranger's dark eyes. He's tall and if it weren't for his crooked smirk, could be brooding. His hair fell around his shoulders in perfect curls at the tips. He could be sculpted by the gods with perfect indents in his cheeks and such white teeth.

"I'm saddened to hear one of my guests is ill." The madly attractive man stretches out his hand. "Could it be my fault?"

If Louis didn't have the pain in his middle region to contend with, he would have stood and been a perfect gentleman. Instead he ends up stretching out the wrong arm and his acquaintance has to make a switch.

"Harry Styles." Rather than being shaken, Louis gets the back of his hand kissed.

He gasps and pulls away immediately as if deeply insulted, looking around at anyone who would have seen them.

"Are you ashamed?" Harry Styles asks, the glass of champagne in his hand twinkling in humour.

"Goodbye, Mr. Styles." Louis doesn't feel the need to be around this man anymore and nods politely before stepping around him.

"I did not mean to insult you. My deepest apologies if I have." Harry held Louis' wrist when he tried to leave, the calm of his composure now ruptured by the troubled look in his eye.

"It's alright, Mr. Styles." Louis tried taking his hand back, to no avail. It was like tugging on concrete.

"Harry." The man corrected. "To you, I am Harry."

Louis smiles uncomfortably, still fighting for his hand. "Yes well, I'd rather not call you by your first name."

Harry frowns deeply and Louis would otherwise marvel at how it changed his entire exterior. He so easily became scarier, with a greater shadow. "Why not?"

"My hand, Mr. Styles." Louis became increasingly worried and a little frightened by this man's forwardness.

"What about it?" Harry smirks, rubbing the calloused skin of his thumb over Louis' knuckles. "I'd rather not give it back to you just yet."

"Oh for goodness sakes, why?!" Louis blew out a breath, rather annoyed by this back-and forth.

Harry wasn't insulted by Louis' fiery nature as all the surrounding guests thought he would he. He chuckled, entirely endeared by this person's abrupt and loud personality.

"I will compromise." Harry pulls Louis closer with the strength he possessed and hid. "For you, I will compromise."

Louis' confused eyes rolled halfway. "You do not know me, Mr. Styles."

"Yes-" Harry kept Louis' wrist behind his back, pinned just above the curve of his behind. "-but hearing my name from your lips has become a drug to me."

Louis is shot dead with the fire behind the eyes of this new acquaintance as he speaks as if they've known each other for ages. His words sound so familiar, paired with the sultry edge to his slow voice makes Louis shiver with recognition. He feels and fears that he knows this man.

"Dance with me for one song tonight-" Harry had to touch Louis' face, his nimble fingers grazing the softness of his lips and flutter of his eyelashes. "-and I will let you call me anything which pleases you."

The pang of something lost and longing in his abdomen twists into something harsh as Louis takes in the unblinking stare of this particular pursuer. He doesn't understand why someone like this could take a liking so quickly to him. Surely it takes people time to develop this kind of intimacy in their words?

He also just cannot shake the feeling that this strange man with beguiling emeralds for eyes has been in his company before. That debate is not for now.

Louis shakes his head, freeing his wrist and putting his hand between them. He is not comfortable with the way Harry - famous billionaire or not - is rudely invading his personal space.

"Mr. Styles is fine, thanks." Louis assures him. "It was nice meeting you."

Louis makes sure he's disappeared into the crowd before Harry can try prolonging their conversation - if one could call it that. He keeps glancing back to make sure he's not being followed and maybe that's a tad crazy of him but he's always been proactive.

"Louis!" Lottie captures his arm and makes him jump in a fright. He looks away from Harry who is laughing at him from behind the rim of a champagne glass.

"What is it?" He asks as soon as he can't hear his own heartbeat beating against the confines of his skull.

"This is for you." She gives him a glass of whiskey.

"Much appreciated." He downs the glass in one gulp. "Dance with me."

"Must I?"

"Certainly." He puts their glasses on a passing servant's tray and pulls her with him to the dance floor.

"Why the sudden need to dance with me, brother?" She asks, offering up her hand and waist for him to hold respectfully.

"I am trying my utmost best to avoid a particular gentleman." He confesses in her ear, getting her jasmine scent from the new oils their mother buys.

"Who would the lucky gentleman be?" She giggles, swaying and rotating when he takes the lead.

Louis notices their mother and younger sisters standing on the sidelines, watching Charlotte and himself dance with the finest members of this here society. He smiles at them and gets moved over to the other end of the floor where there's a new sight for him to witness.

"Master Styles." He whispers in both an answer for her and to identify the man watching him like a deathly hawk from amongst the crowd.

Harry passes his champagne to someone irrelevant on his left before taking a fine woman's hand and leading her onto the dance floor. Louis wishes a flare of jealousy or something akin to that emotion didn't spark in his chest. He doesn't know Harry and he's annoyed with him. Why does he feel so conflicted?

The man looks over his partner's shoulder at Louis and the latter gasps at a fresh wave of memories that hits him hard in the soul. The shouts from his dreams come to the surface and along with his own voice shrieking forsomething, he can hear Harry.

"Master- Louis?!" Lottie is lost for words when her brother storms off the floor.

He turns back when he realises he can't insult his sister by leaving her there alone, so he grabs her hand and pulls her along with him. There's a bit of a stutter of the dancing couples formation but Louis doesn't care and he doesn't stop moving until he's got Charlotte outside to the damp courtyard.

"What's bothering you so much, Louis?" She asks in exasperation, holding both sides of his face and forcing him to look at her.

"Him!" He exclaims, his cheeks reddening with stress.

"Who?"

"Styles!" He replies, holding onto her hands. "He's everywhere."

"Alright now listen." She instructs. "You are allowing whatever this....horrific stress to muddle your mind. I say you need to go home and get to bed. I'm going to find Mother."

She leaves him to his own company while she hurries inside past some sisters gossiping about a rather enticing topic. Louis walks towards the majestic water fountain piece and sighs, his arms around his mid-section as his stomach grumbles.

"You ran away." Comes the last voice Louis would appreciate hearing.

Louis looks over his shoulder and sighs at Harry. "What is your intention with me, Mr. Styles?"

"I've been waiting-" Harry is suddenly right behind him by some miracle, his body warm cascading over Louis' and giving him shivers. "-a very long time for you to ask me that."

Turning around with the backs of his knees hitting the fountain, Louis peers up into abstract eyes of blunt green art. He has no space to move besides the right side and the moonlight is his only visibility source. His attention is captured and enraptured by Harry's beauty.

The familiarity hits Louis again full force and along with the scenes of helpless screams, this time he can swear on the air he breathes that Harry was calling his name in that nightmare. It all becomes obscenely clear and Louis feels heady after the memories race by him again.

Belonging to a person in a past life is a phenomenon only they have encountered. Louis remembers the fire that was burning him, turning him to ash after the commoners found him in the castle of a monster who attacked their village years ago. He was Harry's lover and his death was their revenge.

"Oh no, my love." He reaches up and holds the back of Harry's neck. It's been decades since he last saw his lover, his everything and he was running away from that earlier.

Harry inhales deeply when Louis' wrist grazes his lips, extending is fangs to nip the skin. He retracts them for their kiss, his arms around Louis holding him so their bodies moulded and hearts finally beat to the same rhythm. He gets a whiff of Louis' taste and then an entire flood.

He groans in obvious disapproval when Louis pulls away, their souls so deeply intertwined that he can sense beforehand what his love is going to do.

"Do not make me chase you." Harry seals a kiss over Louis' pulse, and continues a trail up over the fabric until he's gotten to Louis' neck.

He never got the chance to mate Louis before, tie their lives together so they could see all the years as one. When he's about to do it now impatiently, Louis redirects his attention.

"Your eyes haven't changed." Harry's thumb brushes Louis' cheekbone. "It's what made me so certain it was you."

Louis smiled sadly. "I didn't mean to- Earlier I-"

"Hush, my hummingbird." Harry kisses Louis' forehead, keeping his lips pressed to the sweet skin. "You were always a stubborn one."

* * * * *

"Centuries of living and you're the only thing to give me life." Harry presses affectionate kisses all around Louis' scar.

The scar finally had meaning. It at last had a memory plastered to it so Louis knew how it got to him. The thin but hideous streak of injury was the slash of an old planting knife that crippled Louis decades ago and got him burned. Harry flinched at the recollection every single time because he remembers returning from some expedition and finding a stake outside his castle, his home and the only loved one he would give his soul for pinned to it.

"You are a charmer through the generations." Louis combed his fingers through Harry's silky hair, keeping the vampire's gaze locked with his. "How do I know the truth from flattery with you?"

Harry gave him a sensual little smirk that caused the edges of his mouth to twitch, crawling up the form his beloved as he planted kisses on every plane of skin. He hitches Louis' bare thighs that were exhausted on his hips, drawing the boy down the silk sheets closer to him.

"Are you asking to be convinced, hummingbird?" Harry whispers against his lips, their kiss developing from there as Louis opened up for it.

"Do your worst, my love." Louis giggled against Harry's cheek, earning a kiss to his bottom lip.

With the widening of Harry's jaws came the growth of two perfectly curved fangs extending to just the spot of his chin. He sank them into Louis' neck where the blood supply was sweetest and in abundance. His arms locked all the way around Louis as he slid into his body for the sixth time that night.

Louis' body jerked with the first hard thrust, his mouth falling agape and nails finding purchase on Harry's back. He rocked with Harry's body as the vampire thrusted harder, getting deeper with each grind of his hips. Harry sucked on the sweetness of Louis' essence and laid his claim and he slammed repeatedly into the younger male.

"My love." Harry set a steady and brutal pace between them, forcing Louis' body to move. "My only love."

Louis gasped and screamed, his body thrashing about with pleasure wrecking his mind.

"I've missed you. I've missed you enough to be convinced about keeping you in my bed."

Laughing breathlessly as Harry pulled out and flipped him over, Louis can only be cut short to moan loudly as Harry re-enters him. He holds Louis' voluptuous hips and fucks back and forth, his instincts riddling his focus with the need to mark and claim. He licks the droplets of blood dripping down Louis' neck, and wraps his arms around the boy.

"I'll stay." Louis fists the sheets and feels the pulse in the courtship mark Harry left on his neck. "I'll stay forever."