Harry's foot taps anxiously against the granite floors of the restaurant. He has no clue why he's here. He should've said no. Sure he might've offended Louis, but it would've saved Harry the heartache.

Everything in Harry's body aches as he waits for Louis to show up. He could still leave. He could leave and pretend he never showed up to begin with. Louis is older and more mature, he'll understand if Harry leaves him here. He'll understand how hard this is on Harry, right? Louis said in his call that he didn't want to cause Harry to feel better at all. This whole situation is a mess.

The veins in Harry's body seem to throb and all of his senses heighten in an uncomfortable way. He feels too many things at once, each individual strand of fabric in the table cloth. He can hear the people around him blinking. He can see every pore on the woman's face halfway across the restaurant. A headache starts to form in the back of his head from all of the perfumes and colognes invading his nose at once.

"Harry?"

No that's not right. Harry looks up at the owner of the voice and sees that Louis isn't standing before him. A young woman is. Harry's eyes dart across her face and it takes everything that Harry has to keep his eyes from contorting into a sick yellow color.

"Yes, that's me," Harry replies. He sits a little straighter in his chair. Louis must be here, but then who's the woman? Why does she know Harry's name?

"I just wanted to see where you were located for Mr. Tomlinson. Would it be okay if we moved to a table instead of a booth?" The woman asks. She has a gentleness about her that puts Harry at ease. Her voice is like a lullaby, like a wonderful little song to Harry's ears.

Harry doesn't know why he has to move tables. He likes booths and so did Louis. Why would Louis require a table? Shrugging, Harry stands to follow the woman to a table near the front of the restaurant. Great. Harry hates being in the front, it's louder and more people walk by. Harry will surely be distracted.

"Thank you, I'll be back in just a moment with Mr. Tomlinson." The woman smiles at Harry and then walks through the doors into the parking lot. Harry's foot starts to bounce again anxiously.

Harry prays that the woman won't be sitting with them. If she does, Harry won't get to say half the things he wants to. Perhaps he can ask Louis that she steps outside or wait in the car. Surely Louis doesn't need her around him constantly. Surely she's just an assistant of some sort.

Then, Harry sees him and it's like, for a moment, everything is right in the world. Louis' older than he remembers last, but still the same in every way.

His eyes still shine blue, however, they're duller than before. Not as bright as before, but Harry's sure his eyes have changed a lot too. The man is just as small as Harry remembers. A smile forms across Harry's lip as he remembers their little arguments over who was taller before Harry shot up a couple of inches, promptly ending the debate.

The man is different, though, too. There's no trace of brown left in his hair at all. Most of it is replaced with snow-white locks with hints of grey around the edges of his scalp. His skin isn't as smooth and wrinkles line his face. The deepest are those around his smile. Of course, the obvious difference is that he doesn't walk anymore and a tube connects itself to his nose.

He's so... old. Harry knows that it's rude to think, but it's true. Louis is old. He's dying. Harry forgot that some people age because he stopped 70 years ago. For a moment, Harry's heart hammers, because this is what would've happened to Harry had he not changed.

"Harry," Louis chirps. His voice is different. It sounds like an old man now. It doesn't hold the youth that Louis' voice used to. Don't get Harry wrong, it still sounds like Louis.

"Lou, hello," Harry coughs awkwardly. Immediately, Harry feels bad. Louis doesn't seem to mind.

The woman from before appears from behind Louis' wheelchair and smiles. She whispers something into Louis' ear and Louis listens carefully before gesturing to the spot next to Harry. The woman nods. Harry stares at them as the woman moves towards Harry and grabs the chair next to him before pushing Louis into the spot.

"Alright, you two. I'll leave you be. Mr. Tomlinson, just send for me when you're ready." She gives Louis one last look before nodding and exiting the restaurant, a bounce in her step.

They sit in silence for a moment. Harry's sure that Louis is drinking it all in. It's not the first time that Harry's felt like some sort of pet in a zoo before.

"Sorry, you just look... exactly the same. I... I thought something would be--" Louis is cut off by a sea of his own coughing. It seems to go on for hours and a jolt of fear runs through Harry. He has no clue what to do.

Slowly, the coughing stops and Louis sits upright again. "Damn getting old sucks," Louis laughs. The air in Harry's lung catch and he can feel tears threatening his eyes.

Louis will die. The thought seemed far away a long time ago. It seemed impossible. Surely, there would be something to keep people alive longer than ever. Louis' only in his nineties. People back in their time lived longer than that. Why should Harry lose the love of his life to time?

"I'm sorry, it's just... it's a lot. I... I didn't expect," Harry mumbles.

Louis doesn't say anything but just watches Harry carefully. Harry has a hard time looking at him. Forcefully, Harry turns away. He can feel tears starting to gather in his eyes, but he pushes them away. He won't be having any of that today.

"I wanted to talk to you because I'm dying Harry," Louis says. Harry still can't look at him. He sniffs quietly and regains himself before looking back at Louis. He's wrinkled and old and dying. God, he's dying. This man is nothing like the boy Harry once knew. The boy Harry fell in love with, the one he almost married, and the one he grew up with.

"Cancer, it's eating away at me. I guess I'll just get it out there and ask. I was wondering if you could bite me. I don't want to turn, that's the last thing I want, but I just want to die on my own terms," Louis explains.

It all makes sense now. Harry didn't know why Louis would want to talk to him after Harry left him at the alter or why he would want to talk after Harry sent a shitty apology through text or why Louis would want to talk after Harry avoided him for decades.

Harry knows that his venom will kill Louis if he doesn't drink from a human. All those years ago, Harry did it. Harry drank from a human being, killed them, and all so that the venom wouldn't kill Harry. Now, Louis wants to die. He wants the venom to kill him instead of the cancer. Harry doesn't know if he can.

"You owe this to me, Harry. I'm not one to keep count of everything, but you owe me this. we'll be even," Louis sighs. Harry glances at the old man in front of him and can see the desperation in his eyes. He wants to die, Harry can see that clearly enough.

"Fine," Harry whispers. He glances around. There's no way he'd do it here. The cops will be called and then Harry would have to kill all of them and move to a different country and stay on the down-low for a couple more decades. It'll be a mess.

So, Harry dabs at the corners of his mouth with a napkin as he tosses a hundred-dollar bill on the table. He takes his spot behind Louis' chair and carefully wheels him out the front door. Harry makes sure that they stay out of the sightline of Louis' nurse as Harry pushes him around the corner and behind the restaurant.

"What happens when I die," Louis asks. Harry can hear the man's voice shake a little as he asks. Obviously scared by what's to come. Harry would be too if he hasn't already lived it. Of course, you have to die to be reborn.

"I saw you laughing and then darkness and then I was alive again. I'm sure it'll be different for you," Harry explains. He doesn't want to tell Louis that he could feel the venom eating his heart or that Louis' laugh turned into something horrible and sinister and that he imagined himself killing Louis over and over again.

"That's not too bad," Louis sighs. He leans his head to one side, exposing his neck to Harry. "Have a drink."

Harry licks his lips before leaning down to Louis' neck. He looks at it for a moment. The love bites that Harry used to leave all over Louis' flesh feel like a distant memory. Nature takes over and Harry can feel his fangs pierce through his gums. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he pricks Louis' skin.

It's not the same. When they were younger, Harry imagined drinking from Louis, how thrilling it would be. Louis never allowed him to, obviously, so it was always a fantasy. Now, it feels wrong. Instead of sucking Louis' blood, he releases his venom into Louis' neck. It takes nearly everything that Harry has not to bite down harder and taste Louis' blood for the first time.

Harry pulls away. He doesn't know if the venom will be enough to be lethal or if it'll just wear off, but Harry doesn't care. If he stayed he would've killed Louis himself. This already feels like killing him, but Harry doesn't want Louis' actual blood on his hands.

Before Louis has the chance to say anything Harry runs. He runs as fast as his supernatural legs carry him.