He was cursed.

The universe hated him. All Graves wanted, was for all of it to end.

He couldn't die. No matter what he did or what he tried, he was immortal. Forced to suffer through the years and years. His physical age remained 26, but in reality, he was more than 600 years old.

But would you enjoy to know what hurt the most about immortality?

Every time, every era, he saw you. The destined lover of his. The most ethereal man that has the key to destroy Graves. The one soul that continues to reincarnate, and somehow, aligns with Graves. He's tried. He's tried to stop you falling in love with him. He's tried to stop himself from falling in love with you, every time.

You and him were fated, but it pained him. To see you die in different ways. You died from a fire, his first one. Then, you died from the war. You died from drowning, you died from a murder. You died from age, you died from an illness.

And then, he had to bare another few years without you, until the two of your rejoiced.

He wished that, one day, he could die with you.

As he strolled around the 21st century, ticking off his grocery list, he accidentally bumped into someone, dropping his basket. He quickly crouched down, and the person did too, helping him to pick up the fallen foods.

"Sor..." "Sorry."

As he looked up, his eyes locked with the familiar heartbreak. His voice faded as he watched the person continue to pick up the food. Another reincarnation, huh?

It was you. Well, not really. Your soul, to be exact. He could sense it. It was your presence. It was your essence. It was you.

You finally looked up, and tilted your head with a smile. The smile he has so perfectly tattooed to his core.

"Have we met before?" You blinked.

"..No. No we haven't." Graves felt himself growing weak again. His heart pushed against his ribcage, telling him to get closer to you. Telling him to hug you and say, 'Yes, we have met. I'm immortal, and you're my soulmate that dies everytime, before reincarnating.' "I'm Philip. Philip Graves."