Belmont

"I have to go," he mumbled, avoiding my eyes.

I kept my gaze steady on Dominic, frantically searching for a reason behind his sudden decision. "Go where? To Conor?" 

 He shook his head, biting his lip. "To an old friend." 

 "You promised!" I exclaimed, standing up and grabbing his arms. "Damn it, Nic, we promised Conor we'd go back. I don't give a damn about Clock—I pushed him off when he kissed me!"

 "He kissed you?" 

 I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "He was probably hoping I'd go back to him." 

 "But?" 

 "Come on, Nic, you know what I want," I mumbled softly, stepping closer to him. "I miss us and what we had back home," I sighed, reaching out to take his hand. "I miss waking up next to you and talking about the bad movie we fell asleep to. I miss squeezing into our old kitchen with you, listening to Mason's wild stories about the parties he's been to while we made breakfast together." 

 One step was all it took for him to reach me, and soon his arms wrapped around my waist, his face burying into my shoulder. "I miss dancing with you all night at a dingy club," he continued where I left off. "I miss hearing you laugh, Bel, and I wish we were still at the garage. You were happy there." 

 I nodded, pressing my lips to his hair. "I was." 

 "And you're happy with Conor," he mumbled softly. 

 "Nic..." I hesitated. 

 "I have to do this," he insisted. "I need to go." 

 "Are you coming back?" I whispered, my eyes brimming with tears. 

 "Everything you just said—those are memories, beautiful memories, but they're our history now." 

 I stayed silent, holding him close, waiting, because I knew what was coming. I knew what would happen in just a moment. So I waited for the words that vibrated in the air around us. Unspoken, but there all the same. 

 "I love you," I whispered at last. 

 "I love you too," he replied quietly against my shirt, and I felt it grow damp from his tears. "That's why I want you to let me go back to him, Bel." 

 I shook my head but said nothing. My desperate eyes met his tear-streaked, reddened gaze. "I've been longing for him for years, Belmont, and now I'm finally here," he continued, his voice trembling as tears ran down his cheeks. I had no idea who he was talking about—we both knew that—but I asked anyway. "Who is he?" 

 "Magnus, a guy from my past," he answered, and suddenly his voice sounded steady. "I'm going back to Paris." 

 I stared at him in confusion for a moment before he let go of me and took a step back. "I've already talked to Alex; he knows I want to leave." 

 "Wait," I gasped, grabbing his wrist in an attempt to hold him back. "You're leaving? Now?" 

 "I can't do this anymore, Bel," he whispered, pulling his hand free from my grip. "He loves me."

 "We love you too!" 

 He looked at me for a moment with a sorrowful expression. "I need to think about myself right now."  

It hit me how selfless he'd been these past years and what a terrible boyfriend I'd been. He'd always been there when I was feeling down—when I cried, screamed, and couldn't sleep. I had treated him like a backup, a happiness pill. Whenever I needed a boost, I went to him as if his love were a pill I could take whenever I wanted. He had moved with me to different countries and cities without complaint, and yet my whole heart had been focused elsewhere for so many years. How had he put up with it for so long? 

 "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I've been an idiot." 

 He nodded. "I forgive you, Bel," he said, stepping forward to kiss my cheek. "Go back to Conor and be happy." 

 "I'll miss you." 

 He bit his pierced lower lip and gave a small smile before replying, "I know." 

 Just thirty minutes later, I stood completely numb, watching out the window as he drove off the property in the small red car. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I couldn't stand being alone, so I went to find the only person I could talk to right now. 

 "Lumiere isn't happy," he said seriously, standing with his back to me as he turned a thick cigar between his fingers. 

 "What did he say?" I asked cautiously, closing the doors to the large sitting room and walking toward the massive fireplace where Clocksworth was warming himself. 

 "He said we were outdated and narrow-minded and didn't understand the beauty of what he was trying to achieve." 

 I muttered under my breath before replying tiredly, "Sounds like a typical answer from him." 

 He lit the cigar and nodded. "He's locked up in a cell now—" 

 "How the hell did you manage that?" I blurted. 

 "He has to obey me," was all he said, and I understood it had to do with some sort of code of honor or status thing. That kind of thing had always been important to Lumiere. "But the best thing would be if I took him away from here," he muttered. 

 "You're kidding," I laughed dryly, sinking into a chair. But soon the laughter turned into an embarrassing, hysterical sob that finally made him turn around and look at me in surprise. 

"Bel?" 

 "Can everyone just stop leaving me," I whispered, wiping away a tear. 

 He took a few hesitant steps forward but stopped a little distance from me. "What happened?"

 He wasn't stupid, and I knew very well he could see that my eyes were puffy and red from crying. But the question was his invitation for me to open up, and that was precisely why I had sought him out. 

 "Nothing ever goes as planned, never," I sobbed, staring intensely down at my feet. "And now I feel completely lost." 

 A pair of polished black leather boots suddenly appeared between my feet, and soon I saw him crouch down in front of me. "What are you talking about, Belmont?" he asked gently, placing a hand on my cheek. 

 "Dominic left me."

 "I see," he replied simply, and it struck me that I had never seen him so unsure before. Never. I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my black knitted sweater and took a deep breath before looking up into his beautiful chestnut-brown eyes. 

"Can I stay here a while?" 

 He gave me  a sad smile and nodded. "You can stay as long as you want."

Magnus

"Are all the vampires gone now?" Lexie asked doubtfully as she wiped the table clean and set down a pitcher of beer and some glasses. 

 "No, not all of them," Jorvis laughed. "Just the bad ones." 

 "But how?" she insisted. 

 "As I've always said," I began, "they need a strong leader, and now they've got one." 

 "The Clockmaster?" she asked, testing the name. "What makes him so special?"

 "He's fair and strong, but most importantly, he follows the old rules." 

 She sat down, scratching her tousled hair. "But how could it happen so quickly? You fought for days, and he cleaned up in just a few hours!" 

 "Because he has the needed powers," I answered with a smile. "How are your studies coming along?" 

 She sighed at my choice of topic and chewed anxiously on her lower lip. "It's hard."

 "No one's forcing you," I replied with a shrug. 

 "I know. That's why I talked to Hilda yesterday." 

 "Is that wise?" Jorvis asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll stay behind the bar," she assured us. "You're there most of the time anyway," she added with a playful wink in his direction. 

 "Let me know if anyone bothers you," he muttered, placing his hand on hers. 

 "I can handle myself," she said, far too boldly for her own good, but I couldn't help smiling. 

 I didn't mind her company anymore. She'd started to loosen up, and she helped keep things in order here at the office. She was a fresh, youthful presence compared to the tired old guardians. 

"I got a reply from the Ministry yesterday," Einar suddenly muttered from his seat further back in the room. "They're saying it's all the vampires' fault and won't allow them to keep their zone in the city." 

 "Of course," I sighed, rubbing my temples. The smug idiots hadn't lifted a finger to help us; instead, they'd hidden behind high walls and spells. 

 "We can't let them make those kinds of decisions," Jorvis growled irritably. 

 "Of course not," Einar snapped, rising from his chair. "I'll speak to the council." 

 With a sigh, I downed the beer Lexie had poured for me before getting up from my chair. "Do that, but leave me out of it for a while. I need to keep a low profile." 

 "Why?" Lexie asked curiously, but I only gave her a glance before turning to Einar. 

 "You know where to find me if you need me." 

 "Take some time to rest, Magnus," said the oldest among us, patting my shoulder reassuringly. "It'll work out in the end—it always does," he added with a calming smile before leaving the room ahead of me.

The sun was shining for once, and I relished the weather as I walked home. The streets were bustling with people and creatures of all kinds, their lives returning to normal again. It had only been five days since Clocksworth appeared, but the residents of this city were resilient and thick-skinned. Life went on. The air was warm, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the aroma of climbing plants that adorned the building facades. I turned right, down the familiar street with red roses forming an arch between the houses. 

It was so picturesque and ridiculously beautiful, I thought, a wide smile spreading across my face. With my hands in my pockets, I kept walking—it wasn't far now. Soon, I'd step into my kitchen, brew a pot of coffee, and throw myself down on the grass in my little backyard to fully enjoy the first spring sunshine and the gentle buzz of newly awakened insects. The sun was so pleasant, and I had truly missed it, I thought as I turned up toward the cottage. Then suddenly, I froze in my tracks, my heart stopping. Was this a dream, or was I seeing things? Right in front of me, parked outside the house, was an old, beat-up car. And I knew exactly whose it was.

He was home.

Dominic

The small cottage looked exactly as I had left it. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the place was tidy and organized, radiating that homely warmth it had always had. I wandered through the house and quickly realized I was alone. Should I call him, or should I wait and surprise him? Would he even want to be surprised? Did he want me here? The uncertainty gnawed at me. 

  I glanced toward the living room. The old, rugged leather couch looked so inviting, and I stumbled toward it on tired feet, memories flooding back of all those nights I'd collapsed into his lap after long shifts with the triplets. Things were different now—better, I told myself. They had to be. 

 I'd driven nonstop, with Masson babbling incessantly the entire trip. My head pounded, my heart raced, and weeks at the mental hospital had taken their toll. The stillness of the house suddenly made me acutely aware of how exhausted my body was. My thoughts spiraled. He had asked me to come home, but would he accept me after everything that had happened? The moment I'd stepped into the house, I'd caught the scent of someone else. A feminine fragrance, familiar in a way that made my heart clench with jealousy and doubt. I'd been with someone else—so why would I blame him if he did the same? 

 I should call him, I thought. But first, just a moment to close my eyes, I told myself. Kicking off my shoes and tossing my denim jacket onto a chair, I sank into the cushions. They smelled like him, and the thought made me smile as I drifted into a deep sleep. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a door open and close. Footsteps moved into the room, stopping nearby. I struggled to wake, but my eyes were too heavy, my body too worn out. 

 "Magnus?" I mumbled, half-asleep, but no one answered.

 A shadow fell over me, and at last, I forced my eyelids to flutter open. Slowly, I rolled onto my back, the leather of the couch creaking beneath me. A glimpse of golden curls made the corners of my mouth lift. Blue eyes met mine, and I saw the laugh lines around them deepen with a smile. 

 "You're so beautiful," I whispered, feeling soft fingers brush against my cheek. 

 "Sleep," he murmured gently. "You look like you need it." 

 I shifted to make room for him beside me. "Yeo do you," I teased, a smile tugging at my lips. 

The doubt melted off me when he accepted the invitation. He sighed contentedly as his body sank down beside me, his weight pulling my slight frame closer until I could feel his pulse against my cheek and the warmth radiating through our clothes. An arm draped heavily over me, his fingers tangling in my hair. 

"Finally," his lips murmured against my forehead before he hugged me so tightly I nearly lost my breath. 

 Happily, I wrapped my free arm around his waist and snuggled closer until my head found the perfect spot under his chin. "You're never getting rid of me again," I mumbled. 

 "Promise?" he laughed, his chest shaking beneath me. 

 "I promise." 

 "Good. Otherwise, I'll have to chain you up in here," he said with a grin, and for a moment, a sharp pang shot through my heart as I was reminded of Conor and Bel. 

 "That game's for tomorrow," I replied with a mischievous smile, letting my hand slip under his shirt as I pushed all other thoughts aside. 

I didn't have time to say more before his soft lips pressed firmly against mine, and a warm tongue filled my mouth. My entire body responded to his touch, and I felt the worry, exhaustion, and despair wash away. All the negative emotions disappeared, leaving only one thing: love. And all I could think was, finally.