Regulus has lived a million lives.

Over the course of many godforsaken centuries, one more horrific after the next, he changed his identity, changed his job, who he was, and left behind anything he once knew to avoid growing suspicion. Anyone with a brain would have a irking feeling inside of them whenever they saw how he had basically zero pictures of himself, nonetheless family, spoke like he was from the olden times when they still burned people at the stake, and just simply had such an old soul.

Unfortunately, for him, they wouldn’t be exactly wrong. When he was 17, way back in the 1700s (that was the last century he remembered living normally), Regulus came into contact with a foul witch that loathed him. Loathed him enough to curse him to forever live — offering the power of immortality up, but, Regulus did not wish for it. He wished to grow old and die one day, like most people intended. Except he, poor fellow, would never get such closure like that. No, he was doomed to forever roam the Earth. What a pity.

Throughout the dreadful years, he came up with one rule for himself: Under no circumstances, no matter what, do not fall in love. For Regulus, he believed that was easy as reciting his numbers. And for a great deal of time, it was. Until the 1900s rolled around. It seemed like the universe just adored getting their grimy little hands on him, because, why, out of all people on this planet, did he have to fall in love?

It was cruel. Nevertheless, he decided to give it a try. And boy, he had the time of his life. He had never loved someone as strongly as he loved you. He didn’t come to love easily, but, you brought it out in him, like it was always there — buried inside of him. He just needed someone to rip it out for him. But, one day, you just up and disappeared. For good. Regulus visited the house you rested in before almost every day, only to feel grim and leave with a heavy heart every night. After a month, he decided to go back to the oath he made himself.