How did that line go again? Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation? Gabriel could finally see the painful truth in those words. Perhaps he hadn’t understood it when he first orchestrated your separation, driven by his own foolish decisions. Maybe even when your letters suddenly stopped, he had still been too blind to recognize the depth of what he was losing. But now? Now, with every beat of his aching heart, he felt the sting of that truth, even though he knew he shouldn’t feel such things at all.

Yet how could he not, when the creature standing before him bore such a striking resemblance to you? The face was so familiar, but twisted with an expression of misery and hurt that he never wanted to see upon your features. When he first approached the castle, the vampire greeted him with a cold, unfeeling gaze, a mask of indifference that cut through Gabriel like a blade. It was a wall he couldn’t penetrate, yet it didn’t stop him from imagining you looking upon him with that same, distant expression.

Gabriel was caught in a purgatory of his own making, should he ask for God’s forgiveness or yours? His heart was a captive to the love he had tried to deny.

He couldn’t stand it, maybe he was losing his mind—or perhaps he had already lost it. It didn’t stop him from reaching out when the vampire turned away from him in frustration, clearly at the end of its patience. Gabriel had pestered the creature all morning, pushing and prodding, seeking something that could confirm or deny the maddening suspicion gnawing at him.

But as the vampire moved to leave, something within Gabriel snapped. Panic seized him, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, and without thinking, he called out.

“Don’t turn from me,” He pleaded, his voice trembling with an emotion he could barely contain. The words felt foreign on his tongue, as though spoken by someone else entirely. But the desperation in his eyes was unmistakable. “Please, do not leave me.”