all the things we've done.

iv. akselyon

iv. akselyon

"don't you ever find it funny?"

lyon looked up from his laptop at the raven, the tapping of fingers against keys pausing for a moment. he only raised an eyebrow, a silent motion for aksel to continue.

"in every lifetime we've been in, we've always managed to find each other." he says, lying down on their shared bed, gaze drifting to meet lyon's. "i think fate favors us."

he didn't expect the snort coming from the younger, disappointed at his lack of excitement from the fact. "and you'd know this, how? it could've been somebody else. we wouldn't have been aware of it." he thought it was going to be something real good, instead of his husband's weird ramblings. he averts his attention back to his laptop, trying to finish his current novel.

"i know because i remembered." aksel answers softly, hand lifting to latch onto lyon's wrist, forcing him to stop. "you chose to forget when we first died. you told me you were afraid of the disappointment of not being able to see me again." now, that grabbed lyon's attention, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"i would never say such a thing-" "that's because we've been different kinds of people." aksel cuts off, sitting up straight to look at lyon properly. he waited, watching as the blond finally realized he was telling the truth. for someone dealing with supernatural abilities, he wonders about his husband's lack of faith in him. "alright, then. could you tell me who we were?" he asks, grabbing aksel's hand and squeezing it, encouraging him to go on. aksel smiles widely, already having the answer prepared before starting the conversation.

"when we first met, you were an alchemist, just like you are now. i was your wife, and i was also a sorceress." he starts, interlacing his fingers with lyon's, staring at their locked hands. "you were the alchemist, you know? you were the greatest one that ever lived." he sounded fond at that, followed by a soft smile before he continues.

"after that, i was a florist, and you were a journalist. i was a prince, and you were my mistress. i was a painter, and you were an athlete." he stops, receiving a hum from lyon, looking like he was contemplating something. "whatever we were, or whatever we are, it doesn't matter." he mutters, pressing his forehead against his husband's, reveling in the simple contact. it was enough to make aksel's skin tingle.

"we'll always find our way back to each other."

later that night, with aksel in lyon's embrace, the raven remembered that he needed to tell lyon tomorrow that he could see the red string tied around their fingers.