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We never said our love was evergreen
Or as unchanging as the sea
But if you can still remember
Stop and think of me
“It’s you.”
He sees him in a crowd of hundreds of vampires, all of sudden, and his entire world falls apart. If he still had a living and functional heart, Nandor knows it would have broken into a million pieces by now.
Guillermo hears him, hears his voice even if he’s on the other side of the room, talking to some random people, or at least Nandor thinks he has heard him, since the man literally turns his head in his direction, eyes wide open in surprise, miming some words with his mouth. Guillermo turns his back again for a second and probably dismisses himself from the conversation, before slowly reaching for him, one step after another, hesitant, maybe, surely shocked.
None of them were expecting to see each other.
“It’s me,” he says (oh, so he did hear him from across the room), simply, smiling with both his mouth and his eyes. That’s it, that’s the smile. Guillermo’s smile. The one so warm and gentle like the morning sun. The one he has always given to him, the one Nandor has printed in his mind, in his soul, even, the one that accompanies him every morning, before the sunrise, the last thing he thinks before slumbering.
It’s his smile, Nandor’s most precious memory and treasure, and now it’s there again. There was a time when Nandor would’ve started a war with no hesitation whatsoever if that would have meant seeing that smile on Guillermo’s face. And it’s there. It’s really there, even if he doesn’t comprehend how.
“Hello, Nandor.” Guillermo adds, since the vampire seems to not be able to talk anymore.
And, in fact, his mouth feels dry, he doesn’t know what’s happening anymore, doesn’t perceive any of the guests who are attending the vampire-only Gala in New York City, chatting and flirting around them. He doesn’t even remember why he’s here in the first place, or who invited him to the party, or when the invitations actually came to the house. His mind is completely blank, and empty. Nandor feels empty. He feels – lost, the same way he has felt that night, so many years ago, when he did call his name but Guillermo didn’t respond. “How is that possible,” he murmurs, at last, thinking out loud.
“It’s been–”
“Fifty-seven years,” he completes for him with no hesitation: he has counted every day, every month and years, literally every minute since the last time he has seen him. Every new night is a stab in his heart, a new scar he has to ignore for everyone’s sake and most of all for his own sanity.
“That’s–” Guillermo starts, then blinks a couple of times, “actually right, yes. Fifty-seven years.” He sounds a little surprised by Nandor actually knowing it, but it’s just for a moment. “You look–”
“You are alive,” Nandor interrupts him again, finally saying those words out loud. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s right there, Guillermo’s alive and he stands before me. How. They had heard about his death after a while, everyone had mourned for him, for weeks. Nandor had mourned Guillermo every second of the last fifty-seven years. “You look exactly the same, how–” he notices only then something different in his smile, something different in his face. A new couple of little fangs, for a start, and then his skin, paler than it was before. Of course, now everything makes sense, more or less. “Oh, I see.”
“Quite a change, uh?” Guillermo says awkwardly, his head ducking a little, a hand running in his curls, still giving him a smile. Nandor’s eyes are tied on his lips, no, not his lips, his fucking fangs, that are smaller than his, and he hates the fact they look really good on him. Quite a change, indeed.
He doesn’t know how much time he passes staring at him, at his new vampire’s marks, and shit, he has to say something, it’s starting to feel really weird. “You can say that,” he manages to reply, not the most intelligent response but for sure the best one he could find. He’s still processing that Guillermo is undead and standing before him so give him a break.
The human – not the human anymore, fuck – the vampire catchs the nervous in his voice and search for another topic. Any other topic. So he points at Nandor’s hair with a finger, trying to sound casual. “You changed your hair,” he states, looking fondly at the ponytail of his former master, the french braid at the top of his head, “it suits you.”
“Thank you,” Nandor replies with no vanity, smiling in relief for the first time since Guillermo approached him. He genuinely smiles at him, actually, feeling a little sparkle inside his chest and much less heavier all of sudden. “Nadja has been experimenting on me, lately, she’s into braids at the moment,” he explains then, with a little pride for his friend’s work.
“Oh, Nadja did that?” Guillermo asks, raising his brows in surprise “Not a familiar?”
“I don’t have a familiar and, obviously, I don’t let Laszlo and Nadja’s one to touch my hair.”
“Oh.” Guillermo repeats, this time a little– sympathetic, maybe? Worried? Sorry? Ashamed? Nandor can’t tell, but he knows Guillermo quickly understands that he has never replaced him and probably never will. Laszlo and Nadja had yelled at him so many times, trying to convince him to find another servant, but it never felt right. It wouldn’t be the same, it’s not the same, without Guillermo. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, Guillermo understands everything. “H-How are they?” The former familiar coughs a little, revealing a sort of embarrassment, changing the subject for the best. “Are they here, too?”
“No, they’re home. They’re fine, you know. Laszlo is still mourning for Sean’s death, though; Nadja is being very supportive and doesn’t leave him alone for a minute.”
“Wait, Sean’s dead?” Then he seems to realize “Yes, of course. When did it happen?”
“A decade ago, I think? Maybe two? I am not sure, I’m not good at keeping it up with years,” and yet, a moment ago he admitted that’s not remotely true.
Guillermo decides to not point at that anyway. “Shit, I’m sorry. He was a good guy, it must have been hard for Laszlo.”
Nandor shrugs and shakes his head .”Eh,” he comments, trying to minimize “it was a long time coming, that’s how it is with humans and Laszlo knew that.” He doesn’t say how hard it was seeing him refusing to eat and slumber for weeks, though. He doesn’t say how desperate and scared he and Nadja and Colin Robinson were, at some point. He doesn’t say Laszlo didn’t play his piano for years and was a shock for them when he attempted to again, trying to live along with his new grief. He’s doing so much better now, and that’s what really matters. Even if the same thing Nandor can’t tell about himself.
And the irony is that the object of his long time despair is standing in front of him, undead. How to say to Guillermo he has thought of super slumber again, and for good this time, the moment he has heard about his death? He can’t, and he won’t. Even if he’s dying to ask him why he disappeared for almost sixty years then, there's something in his gut that is telling him he doesn’t want to know the answer.
And now he’s not talking again, and Guillermo is starting to look around. Nandor can already see him walking away again and he doesn’t know if he could actually survive this time. “Do you want to– drink something?” He asks in a hurry, pointing at the bar not too far from where they are standing, searching for an excuse to continue that awkward and poor reunion of them.
Guillermo, however, curves his lips and nods. “Yeah, sure!”
Nandor tries to hide his relief, standing right behind him as they pass between the crowd. He sees Guillermo say hi to a couple of random dudes and frowns, wondering how he knows them and most importantly how many more things about Guillermo he has missed during the years. He hates that he doesn’t know him anymore, he hates that he doesn’t know how to tell him the important things that are gravitating in his mind right now, like how much he has missed him, or that he doesn’t want to lose him again.
“Colin Robinson was there till an hour ago, by the way, but the mood was too cheerful so he returned home.” Nandor informs him as they sit at the bar, waiting for someone to take their order, just to say something. Guillermo nods silently, he watches his face turning dark and that’s when he realizes Colin Robinson is not the best topic to talk about, after what happened with the child. Damn his stupid mouth. “Oh, but the Guide is here, somewhere, probably on the dance floor, if you want to say hi.”
“Are they still around?”
“What a stupid question, Guillermo. Of course, they’re part of the family.” As you were part of the family too, but you’re not around anymore.
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”
He wants to tell him there’s no need to be sorry about it, but that’s when the bartender arrives, so Nandor just stares at Guillermo while he reads the menu and decides what to order. He wears makeup now, Nandor can’t believe he didn’t notice it sooner, he’s got rings on his fingers and nails painted in a dark shadow of blue. He looks so different from the man he once knew, but then he listens to his soft voice, sees his kind expression and the way he gestures with both of his hands, trying to explain exactly what he wants to drink.
He’s his Guillermo, and at the same time he’s not. Nandor has never been this confused in his entire life.
“What do you want?” He asks at some point, catching him staring. Nandor opens his mouth before meeting Guillermo’s eyes, that’s enough to make him forget what’s his favorite drink at the moment, so he shrugs.
“I don’t know, something virgin. And no straw.” He still manages to say, as the guy walks out to take two glasses and a couple of bottles with red liquids in it. Guillermo doesn’t even look at Nandor anymore, seems determined to watch everythings around him but his former master. Nandor takes a deep breath, even if he doesn’t really need to. “So, to conclude,” he starts, gaining Guillermo’s attention again, “as you may remember, the Djinn is not a mundane person and preferred to stay home too.” He sticks with the formalities, still unable to find another matter to discuss and not annoying Guillermo. Nandor feels too pressured to think about something.
But somehow he manages to intrigue him, he internally smiles with pride. “Wait,” Guillermo starts with a frown, “you still have the genie with you?”
“Djinn,” Nandor corrects him automatically, “and yes, of course. You know, I—” but then he stops. He can’t overshare this, not with Guillermo and absolutely not now he has found him again. How can he say to him, he doesn’t know how to let the Djinn go, now he has literally no one else? The Djinn has been a friend to him, his only companion in the last fifty years. He knows he’s being selfish at keeping him around without a reason, but Nandor feels like he’s at one wish from being left alone, forever this time, and he doesn’t know if he’s brave enough for this.
“It’s a long story.” He says, then, without looking Guillermo in the eyes. “Can I ask you a question?” Nandor finally asks.
“Yes.” And by his tone, he already understands what he wants to know. After all these years, Guillermo is still the only one capable of reading into his mind.
They stare at each other for a long instant, Nandor trying to find the courage to say those three words that will probably lead to his own ruin. “Who did it?”
He doesn’t need to add much, of course he’s talking about Guillermo’s new vampire form. The man sighs, he’s been expecting that question from the moment he has heard Nandor’s voice. “Derek,” he replies, stopping as the bartender broughts their drinks. “You know, a friend of mine. He was at your wedding, too.” He tries to explain, glad to have an excuse to not look at him, starting to play with the straw in his glass.
“I see,” Nandor comments, lowering his gaze and taking a sip of his drink. He’s not sure who the fuck this Derek is, but now he knows for sure Guillermo asked for it, and that wasn’t an accident like, whoopsie, I slipped and my neck fell right in this random vampire’s mouth. Nandor really hoped that was his case, like the idiot he is. Instead, Guillermo asked another vampire to transform him, and then decided to not come back home.
“So,” Guillermo coughs after five minutes of complete silence between them, Nandor doesn’t look up, too occupied in drawing imaginary circles on the top of his glass with a finger. Silences were never a problem to them, they always felt like intimate moments to share, but now it only feels wrong, and weird and unfamiliar. Like they are two complete strangers talking for the first time, exchanging random and small talks. “You still have two wishes?”
The other shrugs, eyes melancholically on his drink, cursing himself for not having ordered strong drunken blood. The name ‘Derek’ is on repeat in his mind, like the catchy chorus of the shitties summer hit ever made. “Only one, actually.”
“Oh, really? What did you ask, then?”
“Steve.”
“I’m sorry, who?”
“My unicorn. Steve.” Nandor replies with nonchalant, finishing his drink and then ordering for the alcoholic and bloody version of a bubble tea. Shit, he doesn’t even want to get drunk but he needs it to get that fucking name out of his head. Geez, he has Guillermo there, actually talking to him, he’s not dreaming with eyes open, it’s the reality, and he’s wasting time thinking about a stupid moron he has never talked with.
When he returns to face him, Guillermo is giving him a questioning look. “You asked for a unicorn,” he states, not a question; Nandor, lost in his thoughts, doesn’t understand what’s the big deal.
“Well, I believed it would’ve cheered everyone’s mood after we lost the child. And also you wanted a change so I thought a pet would’ve been a good start.”
Guillermo can’t stop staring at him, speechless. Nandor scratches his head, starting to feel a little uncomfortable and also beginning to worry about having said the wrong thing. He opens his mouth to say something, then, taking back his words, but fortunately Guillermo precedes him. “You wanted to give me a unicorn?”
Oh, so that’s what it is. Yes, he should’ve imagined: Laszlo and Nadja too, when he presented Steve to them, had told him it was a shitty idea since someone would’ve noticed a unicorn living in their yard. Still, none of them had wasted time and they all started to ride the animal, fighting and taking turns – even Dolly wanted to spend time with Steve and Nadja helped her for the ride.
“I know, it was stupid,” Nandor says, anyway, taking the new glass of blood to avoid the embarassment for having to admit that out loud.
“Not at all, it was sweet.” Guillermo replies, making him smile in relief. Guillermo always gets him, that’s why he has always loved him – and still does. “Fuck, a unicorn,” he then adds, talking to himself, probably. “I should have stayed.”
“Yeah, you should have.” Nandor echoes in a whisper, without thinking, glass full of blood in the middle of the air. They both realize a moment too late the implications of those words, they gaze at each other for a second, then swiftly look away, in shame. Why didn’t you stay, the question is right on Nandor’s lips, why didn’t you say anything before leaving. Did I fucked up so bad that we couldn’t even try to fix it? But he already knows the answer.
Nandor takes a sip of blood, then struggles a little to reach the red bubbles on the bottom. Guillermo tenderly smiles, seeing him trying to catch them with his finger. “Here,” he hands him his straw, Nandor takes it, mumbling something like a thanks, still avoiding his eyes. “Is he still alive, Steve?” Guillermo asks then, ignoring the heavy atmosphere on purpose.
They both know they have to talk about it properly, eventually.
Nandor’s lips curve in a smile, hearing Steve’s name. “Of course he is, unicorns used to live for centuries before humans started to kill them.”
“You seem very proud of him,” Guillermo affirms, noticing the lights in Nandor’s eyes, that’s now offering him a blood’s bubble.
“He is a very unique creature, you should meet him.”
“I’m looking forward to it, then!” Guillermo giggles a little, bringing another bubble to his mouth, before letting Nandor finish his drink. The vampire can feel his gaze, Guillermo looks at him softly, without saying a word. Nandor wonders what he is thinking, if he’s maybe lost in a memory, or if he’s truly enjoying their time together – all things considered. “You know,” he starts, after a few moments “I always thought you would’ve been mad.”
Nandor turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow, confused. “What for?”
“Derek,” he replies, talking suddenly in a low voice, “for being my sire. Since, you know–” he stops and gestures at the two of them with his right hand, looking at Nandor, who’s now not even blinking, right in the face. “Are you mad?”
“Why should I be mad?” Nandor says, not sounding convinced at all, raising up all of his barriers like the good old times, always running away from his feelings. “I am not, I don’t care.”
Guillermo frowns in response, he doesn’t seem offended by Nandor’s reply, just — he sighs. “Okay, right.”
“Maybe I would’ve been mad back then,” Nandor tries again, not wanting to piss him off. “We had a project,” he adds in a sigh, now he’s the one sounding upset.
Guillermo looks at him, calm and serious. “You would never do it, Nandor.” His voice is firm, mature, no hesitation or tremble.
“I would, eventually.” Nandor argues, raising his voice a little without notice and gesturing with both his hands.
Guillermo lets him have his moment, then sighs and closes his eyes for a second. “You don’t sound fine.”
“Of course I don't,” he snaps, “I am mad. It should’ve been me!”
“I figured it would’ve ended like this.”
“No, let me speak!” Nandor exclaims in hurry, putting one hand on Guillermo’s, like he’s afraid to see him stand up and walk away. Guillermo doesn’t move, though, doesn’t seem to want to, he sits still and pays attention to Nandor. “I am mad because I should have transformed you the night we all returned home, instead of asking you to be my best man.”
He’s angry with himself, he’s angry at everything he has ever done to him, to Guillermo, everything that had let Guillermo run away from him. The worst part is Nandor really wanted to turn him, that night, but he didn’t find the courage at the last minute. The ruin started that very night, in his eyes, that night he settled the pieces that would’ve eventually drift them apart.
How could he be so stupid? How couldn’t he see that coming? He can’t blame Guillermo, for sure, he really can’t blame him for having searched for another sire, for another life.
He lets go of his hand just to punch the counter, violently, the bartender glares at him and Nandor hisses back, eyes coloured in gold. He relaxes only when he feels Guillermo’s touch, taking his hand.
Nandor meets his eyes, lips parted. Guillermo looks sad, full of regrets, possibly full of love that doesn’t know how to put. “I really wanted it to be you, if that helps.”
It doesn’t help, of course it doesn’t help, both of them know that, still, that manages to cheer him up just a little. At least it wasn’t all bad, they had their moments too. He curves his lips in a sad smile, looking at their hands. “Well, I guess it’s pointless now, anyway. I can’t go back in time, can I?”
Guillermo ties their fingers together, holding thigh. He gives Nandor a serious and thoughtful look for a whole, long minute, but the vampire doesn’t notice. “I guess not,” he says at the end, “you can’t.”
Nandor doesn’t add anything, just remains silent, staring at their hands, indulging in that gesture of their rediscovered intimacy. Holding hands always was one of the poor intimate things they shared, almost a love language between them, sure somehow a ritual. That was one of the few things he conceded to Guillermo, always taking him for granted.
But no more, he says to himself, no more.
In the room are now playing Tonight in the Moonlight, one of the songs they usually play in their music nights at home. If he remembers well, that song is one of Guillermo’s personal favorites.
“I love this song!” He affirms a second later, confirming his thoughts.
Nandor smiles, deciding to do something very stupid, something brave, something he was too much afraid to ask on his wedding night, and so many others before.
“Dance with me?”
He reads doubt in Guillermo’s eyes. He reads worries, and hopes, and indecision, and wonder, and delight. He reads that and a lot more, at some point he’s sure Guillermo is gonna say no, but then the former familiar surprises him.
“Sure, why not.”
It’s so easy to guide him on the dancefloor, still holding his hand, determined to not let him go ever again. Couples dance around them, pressed into each other like horny animals — Laszlo and Nadja would’ve loved it, but Nandor looks at Guillermo, uncertain, as the other smiles in response and lays his free hand on his hips. Nandor imitates him, hand behind his back.
They start to step a little awkward, none of them really used to do such a thing, not a slow dance and absolutely not with each other. Guillermo starts to look at his feet after a few moments, while Nandor observes and studies other vampires’ moves and tries to imitate them.
After some minutes, Guillermo starts to giggle; Nandor turns and meets his eyes, butterflies in his stomach. “Who the hell is leading?” He asks, shaking his head, amused.
It’s a stupid question but Nandor feels lost; fuck, it’s been at least three centuries since the last time he has done something like that. “Should we have decided this before the dance?”
“Nah, it’s okay. Just — follow me?”
He nods back and obeys with no hesitation, discovering that following Guillermo’s moves is way easier than trying to imitate whatever other people are doing. It’s nice, now, after a very few moments Nandor relaxes completely, finds the courage to hold him a little more close, gently; Guillermo doesn’t complain nor push away, so he smiles with joy.
“Where were you being, anyway? Where do you live nowadays?” He asks, calm; he doesn’t need to raise his voice to be heard, even if the music is really loud, now that Guillermo has the super hearing too.
“Nowhere, actually. I travel a lot, I was in Greece until one week ago.”
“Greece? Nadja will surely threaten to reap your head off when she’ll know you went to her native land without her.”
Guillermo makes a strange face, serious, Nandor worries a little but then his eyes return to be gentle and amused as before. “That’s exactly why you’ll never tell her.”
Nandor smiles, his fangs showing, as they continue to swing; Guillermo, apparently, feels comfortable enough to rest his forehead on his chest. Nandor closes his eyes, it’s been years since the last time he has felt so relaxed and glad, full of joy and love again. “Why have we never done it? Dancing, I mean.”
“You never let me even hug you.” Guillermo replies, no blame in his voice. “I didn’t know it was something you wanted.”
But he wanted to, he always wanted to. He wanted everything, Nandor had to learn about his death to understand that, to understand what his strange feelings for him actually were. He had to lose Guillermo to understand that specific truth about himself, after spending too many years alone and having forgotten what being in love felt like. But it wasn’t Guillermo’s fault, and Nandor on so many occasions managed to discourage him, and make him believe he was the problem; he really cannot believe he did that to Guillermo, no one better than Nandor could understand him for having left for good.
“Guillermo–” he starts, searching for the right words, to apologize, to let him know he loved him for years and never stopped to do that, but Guillermo precedes him, a hand on his arm, firm and reassuring.
“I know, it’s okay. Really.”
He’s always so cool with him, so indulgent. Or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t care about it, about him, anymore, so it is easy to swallow every problem and all the time Nandor had let him down. But no, it can’t be that, because then, why is he still spending time with him? Why is he dedicating to him all of his attention, again, why are they dancing? Shit, they’re dancing. Guillermo happens to be alive – or, well, undead – and they are dancing for the first time and after 57 years and four hours apart.
And it’s all happening, Nandor is still not daydreaming.
The realization strikes him again like a slap in the face as he steps on Guillermo’s feet. “Shit!” He exclaims, but the other chuckles.
“It’s fine, the couple behind us has been bumping into me at least three times by now, haven’t you noticed?”
Nandor hasn’t, in fact, noticed it, too focused in his thoughts and too worried about his moves to notice anything. He looks over Guillermo’s shoulders and sees the couple in question, all wrapped into each other, busying in kissing, or better, devouring each other's mouths; they obviously don’t pay attention to every couple they're crashing into.
“Fucking gals!” Nandor says, annoyed and pissed that they ruined their dance. “Get a coffin – Eesh!”
At this point, Guillermo can’t hold it anymore and starts laughing, loudly. Nandor looks at him, enchanted, literally, mouth open, his eyes completely fond of him. Guillermo’s laugh is the most beautiful melody he has ever heard, a lark delicately singing at the rising sun; he feels so lucky to have the opportunity to hear it one more time. Suddenly he feels like it hasn’t passed a day since the last time they were this close.
“Sorry,” Guillermo says, catching a breath he doesn’t need and scratching his eyes, “it wasn’t that funny.” He meets his eyes, the shadow of his laugh still painted on his face, and the world immediately stops.
Nandor’s fingers are caressing his cheek, now, they both realize that a second too late, but none of them seem to actually mind it. Guillermo smiles, he tenderly smiles at him and that makes every inch of Nandor’s chest hurt. The way he wants to kiss him, fuck, Nandor could give up on his immortality just for a taste of Guillermo’s lips. And it almost seems like Guillermo’s actually on the same page, staring at him intensely, making him feel like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world and he’s actually worth something.
“You didn’t bring anything with you.” He whispers, instead, making Guillermo frown, confused. “You didn’t bring anything with you, that night, so I thought–”
“What?”
“I thought you’d come back, eventually.” He confesses, feeling stupid already. “And so I waited for you. Every night.”
Eyes wide open, Guillermo swallows. “You did?”
Nandor nods. “Yes, I woke up and immediately ran into your room. Of course, you were never there, but I continued doing it anyway. Sitting there and just – waiting. Every night until we eventually found out about your… death.”
“I’m truly sorry about that.” And he’s sincere, Nandor obviously knows it. Still, he considers if it’s the case to reveal everything to Guillermo, to say that he thought about using his last wish to bring him back from the dead, only to reconsider it at the last moment, too afraid of the consequences, especially after how bad things went with Marwa.
He shrugs, deciding it is for the best to hide certain details. “Don’t be. You’re back, now.”
“I–” Guillermo starts, hesitantly. The music shifts, in the meantime, Nandor finds himself slowly moving his feet, following the stranger rhythm, locked again into Guillermo’s arms. “I’m not coming back,” Nandor continues to move, unable to stop, unable to understand whatever he’s saying. What does it mean, he’s not coming back? He already has, he’s dancing with him, he’s holding him close, he’s staring into his soul and helping him see shining stars at every smile he gives him. He’s here, he’s back. Isn’t he? “I mean, I’ll continue to travel. There’s still a lot out there I want to see.”
He stops, remaining perfectly still on the dancefloor, looking like a statue made of stone. He lets go of Guillermo's hand, stepping back mechanically – he doesn’t feel the absence of his body against his, he feels – nothing. People dancing around him, the same girls bumping over his shoulder, Guillermo looking at him in alarm. He doesn’t see any of them, doesn’t even hear the music, the voices.
Nandor can manage only to think It’s over. It’s over. Guillermo will leave me again. He doesn’t want to be around me anymore. It’s over.
He turns around, eyes at the ground not for a particular reason, his right hand already torturing his left ones, the rings, the fingers. It’s all over.
“Where are you going? What is it?” Guillermo’s voice reaches him in the exact moment his cool hand touches his arm, like that gesture has the power to break an entire curse and bring Nandor back to reality.
The vampire doesn’t return his gaze, doesn’t stop to nervously torment his own hand. “You still haven’t forgiven me, have you?” The voice is so low that Guillermo fatigues to hear it even with his new vampire’s powers.
“It’s not that. It’s really not that, I promise, it’s just–” He seems to wait for Nandor to look at him, but the oldest vampire doesn’t seem too inclined to do so. “I need to do it, I don’t know how to explain it, but I have to do it.” Guillermo stops again, biting his bottom lip, almost in frustration. Nandor ducks his head, maybe in a nod or probably a shake. His friend can’t really read into it. “It’s been sixty years, Nandor, I’m not the person you knew.”
There were times when Guillermo’s words sounded incomprehensible to Nandor. Starting with pop culture’s references that never made sense to him, to the funny little words Guillermo said mostly when he was angry – Nandor learned after a while he was just speaking spanish. Now seems exactly one of those times, just Guillermo is clearly speaking english, he doesn’t seem angry either, but Nandor is seriously unable to understand what he’s saying.
What is that supposed to mean? He’s Guillermo, Nandor could tell it without looking at him twice. He’s his Guillermo, the good-hearted, patient, protective, murderous Guillermo. Sixty years couldn’t change that, Nandor knows it well – every vampire does.
But Guillermo talks with such a guilt in his voice, Nandor understands he really thinks that and it feels like a punch in his stomach.
He opens his mouth ready to disagree, but Guillermo precedes him. “You know,” he starts, eyes fixed on an indefinite point over Nandor’s shoulders, mind probably somewhere else, a bitter smile on his face. “The plan was never to run away. I just wanted to be turned and return home as a vampire. But then I woke up and I was so weak and fragile, first thing that crossed my head was that I screwed everything up; I regretted going to Derek and asking for his help since the very beginning – and also I felt ashamed for how bad and inexperienced I was as a vampire. So I decided to stay with him until I was ready, I didn’t want you guys to laugh at me, and telling me how stupid of me that was – yes , you would have never shut up about it and you know it!”
Nandor closes his mouth, feeling exposed and guilty. Guillermo’s right, he can’t deny that the whole house would have been so petty and annoying to him. He looks at his friend, hoping he can still call him that way, just to find him lost in his thoughts. “What happened when you learned how to be a vampire?” He asks, getting closer to Guillermo, their shoulders brush.
Guillermo shrugs, raising his gaze. “I continued to find excuses to delay my return and not confront you. I didn’t want to piss you off, or fight again or, just – I didn’t want to hurt you, honestly.” And yet, Nandor stands there, heartbroken. “I told you, I regretted that decision, but also I knew I couldn’t afford to live like that anymore. I had to go my own way, making my own mistakes and my own choices. After all, there was nothing left for me at home.”
What about me? Nandor thinks. I was still there, didn’t I mean anything back then? But he realizes already that, no, he didn’t, and he still doesn’t. Not to Guillermo, anyway, the only person that matters. Not after 13 years of taking him for granted, not after years of frustration and fake promises. Not after having broken his heart for good.
Maybe Nandor deserves it, all the pain he is feeling. He deserves it all if that’s how Guillermo had felt while being at his side.
“So, you faked your death,” he states, words coming out of his mouth like shards of glass.
Guillermo nods. “That wasn’t my brightest decision either,” he sighs, “but I didn’t know what to do, I panicked. Then I just started to travel the world and never stopped.”
“With him?” He asks, terrified of the answer. “With Derek?”
“Fuck, no. I haven’t seen him in ages.” Somehow, that reassures Nandor a little. Guillermo never replaced him, then, he can’t help but feel relieved. “I travel alone.”
“It must be lonely.” Nandor says, not a question, taking Guillermo by surprise.
They stare at each other, deeply, none of them blinking or moving a muscle, or even thinking. Nandor feels like they have all the time in the world, and in a way they do, since – you know, the immortality thing, and yet, they don’t. He’s not sure he will see him again after that night, and probably Guillermo feels it too.
“Not the whole time, but– yeah. Pretty much lonely.”
Nandor can easily sense the sadness in Guillermo’s voice, he observes his eyes and can tell he’s not guessing wrong. It’s the same for him, all of those years of loneliness, with a grief that no one couldn’t understand, deprived of his only reason of happiness, the part of his damned soul who keeped him together for a decade.
He doesn’t have to ask him if he’s happy, living that way. He wants to ask why to continue to be alone, then, and not come home. He wants to ask him to come home. He wants to ask him to stay forever. He wants to apologize. For all the years of disrespect. For Freddie. For all the tears. He wants to say he never stopped loving him. He wants to say they can take all their broken pieces and reassemble them together.
They were meant to be a family, before they fucked up.
“I know what it's like.” Nandor says after a few seconds, speaking in a whisper. Guillermo curves his lips in a little smile, but adds nothing. He doesn’t need to add anything, they both know it’s up to them and all the bad choices they made. No one else is to blame, unfortunately.
“I think –” Nandor starts, unsure. “I- I think I’ll go home now.” Maybe it’s the right and best thing to do.
Guillermo raises his brows. “What- already?” He seems to panic, his right hand up in the air ready to reach Nandor’s arm, like he wants to stop him, somehow. Like— he’s not ready to say goodbye. Or he doesn’t want to say goodbye and let him go. “What about the Guide? We don’t look for them?”
Nandor shrugs in response. “Eh. I will see her at home.”
“Alright, then,” Guillermo replies in a tiny voice, “I’ll walk you home.”
“Really?” Nandor exclaims, hardly hiding his surprise and ecstasy.
“Just like the old time.”
*
It’s raining when they leave the Gala, nobody seems to notice them, no one approaches them or speaks to them as they walk out, it seems like they are in their own personal universe that no person, vampire or human, can reach.
On the other hand, both Nandor and Guillermo don’t look at anyone but each other. Their eyes are locked, they don’t even talk, just stare and smile as they pass through the crowd. It is something truly warm, what Nandor’s feeling in that very moment, something he has almost forgotten and thought he’d never feel again.
They don’t mind the rain, since it’s light and quite nice, for the truth. They barely notice it, anyway. The thought of transforming into bats and just flying their way home doesn’t cross their minds even for a second.
They talk about Guillermo’s travels, Nandor asking about all the fauna of the different countries Guillermo has been to, Guillermo talking about the beauty of all the arts and the people and the different cultures he has discovered.
Nandor tells him about the big party they threw for the Baron’s birthday, a few decades ago, and also about the truce between Nadja and the witches. Guillermo’s glad to hear that, they always talked about the sexual tension between Nadja and Lilith, it was one of their favourite topic to gossip about.
They only stop to say hi to a stray cat and her three kittens, Guillermo helping Nandor build a shelter with some trash they found all around, so the little family could find repair from the rain.
“Hey!” Guillermo says at some point, getting closer and closer to the vampire’s house. “How about the documentary? When did they end recording you guys?”
“Right after your funeral.” Nandor replies casually, without clearly thinking at the weight that sentence brought with it. Guillermo stops walking and looks at him in shock, Nandor notices it after a few steps.
“I had a funeral?” Guillermo asks, hurrying to reach him.
“Of course,” the other confirms, not getting why he’s just so impressed by the information. The funeral was Colin Robinson’s idea — maybe because he just wanted to drain them all, Nandor can’t really remember at the moment, it wasn’t one of his good days. “You didn’t know? It was literally the ending of the documentary. Wait. You didn’t watch it?!”
The look he gives him is so outraged that Guillermo actually regrets having spoken. “No, I didn’t.” He says at first, not sounding convinced at all, trying to avoid his eyes. “Okay, yes. I did watch it. More or less. I watched the first 10 or 15 minutes, I believe? It covered a couple of months, if I’m right?”
“But, why? It was an international success, you didn’t like it?”
“It’s not that.” Nandor continues to look at him in shock, so Guillermo just sighs. “You really want the truth?”
“Yes,” the other replies, empathizing with a fervent nod.
“It was too painful for me, okay?”
Silence falls again, after that, a different silence, a heavy one. They continue to walk lost in their own thoughts, head down on the street. Nandor’s back at torturing his left hand, Guillermo biting his own lips in anxiety. It’s a lot harder, now, their shoulders almost touch but at the same time it’s like they're miles away from each other.
It’s all pointless, Nandor thinks, all was; since the beginning.
“You must really hate us,” he says, using the plural to hide his own insecurities, his own guilt and mistakes.
He doesn’t see Guillermo shaking his head. “Not at all, that’s exactly why it was painful.”
“I don’t understand-”
“It made me miss you, Nandor.” He snaps, the words hitting Nandor like a slap in the face or a cold shower. Or both. Or worse. “It made me miss all of you, but you especially. A lot. I couldn’t bear it.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?” Why don't you want to come back? Nandor doesn’t understand, can’t really figure it out by himself and most of all, can’t imagine a universe when he wouldn't want to come home to Guillermo. So why is it not the same for him? “You say you don’t hate me, but then you don’t want to come back to me.” He’s starting to sound petulant, isn’t he? Nandor doesn’t care, he just wants him back.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Guillermo murmurs. The house is literally on the other side of the street, now, so he stops; Nandor imitates him and waits. “I could never hate you. I couldn’t do it, not even after Freddie. Can you imagine? You ruined everything, and I mean between me and Freddie but most of all between me and you, and I still couldn’t fucking hate you. That’s exactly when I understood how fucked up I was.”
Nandor keeps looking at him, ashamed. So he was right, all of the years he has passed by blaming himself for having ruined Guillermo’s life and all of their chances to find happiness, he was right for all of these years. Contrary to common belief, Nandor isn’t that stupid, after all, he was right and he ruined everything. He knew it from the start, he couldn’t even look Guillermo in the eyes those days.
“I loved you too much,” Guillermo continues, “and it wasn’t fair for me.”
“I loved you too, Guillermo.” And I still do. I love you. I love you so, please, come back.
The other looks at him, a sad smile on his lips. “You think I didn’t know it? That’s why I had to leave. You would’ve continued doing shit and I would’ve continued to love you, and then I would’ve done some shit and you would’ve forgiven me right away because you too loved me too much. Fuck, I’m standing right there after I faked my own death, Nandor, and you’re acting so natural about it. We manipulated and hurted each other all the time, that was really fucked up, don’t you think?”
No, Nandor thinks, I don’t. Everything he’s saying is true, of course, but the only thing that matters from his point of view is, and now he knows it for certain, they deeply loved each other. So, what was the problem in that? He can’t see any.
“But we are vampires,” he says, after a pause. Vampires are used to be mean to each other, to be total shit from time to time, that’s not supposed to mean they don’t love each other. He loves Laszlo and Nadja and Colin Robinson, even if they aren’t always good with one another.
“So vampires don’t deserve to be happy?”
“But we were,” weren't they? “We had love.”
“Well,” Guillermo starts, lowering his voice like every word is the equivalent of a stake in both of their hearts, “sometimes love is not enough, we both deserved better.”
“But I didn’t want better , I wanted you.” Nandor replies, obstinate. He reaches out for Guillermo’s hand, but then stops himself; he was never good with that and doesn’t know if it’s okay. The other notices, of course, and tenderly holds his hand with a small smile. Nandor is captured by those gestures, eyes on their hands together one more time that night. “I still want you.”
“So do I,” Guillermo whispers, caressing his hand with his thumb, gentle. Nandor feels like an explosion of glitter in his stomach, so that means there is still hope for them?
“So what’s the problem? Come back home.” Nandor tries again, pointing at the house behind his back with his free hand.
Guillermo just shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can!” He would have been on the verge of tears if vampires had the capacity of crying like human beings, by now.
“It’s been 57 years.”
“We couldn’t care less,” I couldn’t care less.
“It's a long time.”
“Not for vampires,” not for me, “for vampires it’s like– 2 hours.”
“Yeah,” he smiles, leaving his hand. Nandor feels lost already, he feels like dying again. “I’m still not at that point, sadly.”
“Guillermo,” he gasps, “just – just for tonight. You are already here. Come in just to say hi and meet Steve.” Stay with me. Please. Say you’ll stay.
“I don’t think I would be able to leave, if I come in.”
“So let it be. It won’t be a problem.”
“Alright,” he gives up, “let’s say I return home. What happens next? You can’t surely unscrew Freddie and I can’t return human and let you be my sire. I can’t cancel all of these years spent pretending to be dead and being mourned by you. Maybe tomorrow we’ll be fine – I’m sure tomorrow we’ll be fine, but what about the long term? Those things will come back, eventually, to torture us. They will destroy us and I can’t let that happen.”
Nandor doesn’t listen, or at least he doesn’t seem to have listened to a single word. He shakes his head multiple times, violently, while Guillermo just sighs. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. What’s the point of having found him again, to know that Guillermo is alive and a vampire, if that notion isn’t meant to change everything - to give them a future? It can’t end like this.
“Guillermo,” he calls his name again, he savors every letter on his lips, as he always did, so many times before. “Please, Guillermo.” Fuck, he said it out loud. He has started to beg now, shutting the voice inside his head, who’s whispering to him that it’s all useless at this point. It’s not. Nandor refuses to believe it’s useless.
“I- I should go.” The other says, but Nandor moves forward and grabs his arm. “Don’t make it harder, please, Nandor,” he adds with all the suffering of the world, his voice cracking at the end. “We will see each other again, I promis–” Guillermo stops immediately, as Nandor falls on the ground, landing on his knees. It happens so fast that the shock makes him completely speechless and unable to talk.
“Don’t leave me again, Guillermo. Please, don’t leave me.” He holds his hand so tight that it hurts Guillermo a little. “Please. Give me another chance, it won’t be as it was before. I’m not that person anymore. Just – a second chance. Please. Please don’t leave me.” He can’t let him go, he doesn’t know how to do that. How to live without him. How can he live without him? Guillermo is – Guillermo is his heart, no, that doesn’t feel right. Guillermo’s his soul. You can’t live without your soul, can you? “Please, come home.” Don’t go. “We can do better.”
Guillermo can’t really do anything but wait for him to calm down. In all of the years as his familiar, Nandor had a lot of ups and downs, but nothing like this and that scares him to death. He stands still, like a stone, Nandor’s prayers completely freeze him and destroy what remains of his heart.
The crisis passes when the vampire releases the grip on his hand, still refusing to let him go. “Mi alma,” Guillermo says, thinking out loud, “my dearest Nandor. We'll be okay, I promise.”
He lets him kiss his hand, multiple times, then lays down just a little and presses a kiss on his forehead, resting his lips against Nandor’s skin for a few, endless, seconds. The vampire seems to relax under his touch. “We’re gonna have a second chance, mi vida, but I’m afraid it will be in another life. If we don’t mess up everything again.” Nandor doesn’t add a word, just takes a deep breath to contain his crying, or laments. He wants to hold on to Guillermo, but he’s tired, too tired, he can’t move a muscle. He barely understands what he’s saying. “I’ll wait for you there, mi vida. I promise I’ll wait for you. Just don’t take too long.”
Nandor doesn’t remember anything after that, he can't even tell when he has closed his eyes or how much time has passed, the only thing he knows is, when he opens them again, Guillermo’s not there anymore.
*
He stays on the ground, in the exact same position, for hours. He stands up only when his senses warn him that it won’t be long until the sunrise.
Like an automa, he walks first into his room, remaining there only the time to grab his lamp. He reaches for Steve, who greets him the moment he sees him arrive, then, starting to gently pet the horse immediately, giving him a smile.
“Hello, my friend. Did you have a good day?” He asks, like he’s expecting a reply, caressing the nose of the animal that whinnies hearing the sound of Nandor’s voice. “Oh, is that so?”
Nandor giggles a little as the unicorn gives him a nod, brushing his nose against his hand. Fortunately, the vampires have hypnotice all of the neighbors so it wouldn’t be strange or scary to find a living unicorn in their yard.
Nandor stops for a second, Steve whinnies disappointed, the time to rub the lamp. A moment later, the Djinn appears in front of him, hands behind his back.
“‘Evening!” The Djinn greets him, maybe a little bored — after all he hasn’t used his powers for 57 years, he usually came out his lamp everytime Nandor wanted to talk or just to stretch his legs. They see Nandor’s face and suddenly frown, knowing it’s probably one of those nights — the miserable’s ones. “What is it now?”
“I saw Guillermo,” Nandor whispers, like it’s a secret the Djinn can tell to no one, still petting his Steve.
“Who?”
“Guillermo. My Guillermo. You know who.”
Yes, he knows, but he wasn’t expecting that. “I see.” They don’t ask any questions, Nandor appreciates it.
“So I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“A wish.”
The Djinn raises his brows and looks at him in surprise, maybe the first time in 57 years they’re actually showing an emotion. “Are you sure? It’s your last one.” He adds, already taking the notebook and his old pen without thinking, in an automatic gesture.
“I am sure,” Nandor nods, then sighs. It’s hard to say goodbye, but he has to hurry if doesn’t want to be burned by the sunlight. “I wish, and you must listen to me very clearly, a second chance with him – Guillermo. I wish to go back in time and try to make things right.”
“So that’s it?” The Djinn asks in a flat voice, but with shining eyes. Maybe, just maybe, for the first time they’re actually proud of Nandor and his use of the wish. The vampire nods, adding nothing. “Well,” they say, trying to curve their lips in a smile, “we had fun.” Nandor does the same thing, the two of them had their moments, for sure, bad ones mostly, but good ones too and it’s strange to think that’s the last time they see each other. Nandor wonders what would have been of him, if he’d decided to not attend the Gala that night.
The Djinn attempts to do the click one last time, but first he looks at Nandor in a serious way. “Please, promise me one thing: don’t rub any other lamp. For at least two or three centuries.”
Nandor grins and nods again, before holding his dear unicorn and presses a kiss right on the nose – at least, he didn’t eat him, this time.
His soft whinny is the last thing he hears.
*
When he opens his eyes, this time, he’s not alone.
People are walking past him, someone is running, others are hugging or kissing each other. He has already seen this scene, the noises strike him like a thunder. Nandor is at the Penn Station again, holding Guillermo’s case, again, and Guillermo is obviously not there. Again.
“Shit,” he exclaims, annoyed, “I should have been more clear!”
Well, now it is pretty useless to complain, and he can’t even change his wish. Fuck the Djinn, why he always managed to got him? Fuck.
He decides the best thing to do is to call Guillermo through the ether, maybe it’s not too late to tell him he’s sorry.
He turns his back to the train that's just arriving on the track; he won’t leave, this time, not without Guillermo at least. Red case in his hand, he locks himself into the first toilet he finds, a disgusted noise escaping from his throat. He needs peace and quiet to focus on the call.
“Guillermo,” he tries, eyes closed, “Guillermo de la Cruz. Can you hear me? Guillermo. I am calling you, Guillermo. Nandor’s here! Nandor the Relentless.”
It takes probably ten minutes, but fortunately he finally hears Guillermo’s soft and confused voice. “Master?” Nandor gasps in surprise, doesn’t make a sound for a few moments. Hearing him again had him frozen. “Master? Is that you?”
“Yes,” Nandor wakes up, hurrying to reassure him, “I am calling you from a toilet.”
“Good for you,” Guillermo replies in a huff, “I’m answering from the inside of a fucking coffin!”
Oh, right. Laszlo. Nandor covers his ears to shut Guillermo’s scream, but it’s all pointless since the voice is inside his head. “I know but list—“
“What do you mean YOU KNOW?!”
“Stop screaming, fucking guy!” Guillermo listens to him, eventually, Nandor sighs in relief. “I’m at the station.”
“Fucking Laszlo!” Guillermo interrupts him again, making him growls. “Wait for me, master, I- I’ll take the first flight from England.”
“No, it’s okay.” Nandor surprises even himself with his calm voice. “I’m returning home, something is telling me Laszlo needs a hand with some– stuff. You go with Nadja, our journey around the world is postponed, alright?”
Silence. Breathing. Nandor awaits, he can’t do much more than wait. He owes that to Guillermo, letting him go first, letting him see a new land, letting him actually choose to return home to him. Nandor knows, now, he can’t force things like that, not anymore and absolutely not with the one he loves the most.
“Are you serious?” Guillermo asks. Nandor can’t help but wonder if he’ll say yes, will he, Guillermo, fall in love with Freddie again? What will happen, in that case? Is Nandor truly destined to patiently wait for him, stepping back and watching Guillermo being happy with another person?
“Yes.” Guillermo deserves that. And Nandor will wait, of course he will. He waited for him for 57 years, he’s ready to wait 57 more. And when Guillermo will be ready, if he will ask him again, he’ll be there to transform him. This time everything will be alright, he can feel that. He’ll do better. “We can stay in touch, if you want.”
“Of course I want to.” Nandor smiles, he can imagine Guillermo doing the exact same thing. The vampire closes his eyes, thinking about his most valuable treasure, trying to convince himself that one year is nothing compared to an eternity together.
“Guillermo?” He whispers after a couple of minutes, before leaving.
“Yes?”
“Think of me, will you?”
“Of course, master. Always.”