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A shaking, pale hand extended to him.
Jean looked up past his blood-tainted hair which had once been called majestic, past the hatred that had filled his heart.
This hand that he held, that held his. This hand, beautiful with all its curves and edges. This hand that belonged to the being that had saved him from his loneliness, and who he had saved in return.
It seemed so close yet so far. Jean couldn’t believe what he was seeing nor what he was hearing.
“Let’s run away together.” Those simple words inspired in him both doubt and hope. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was this all but a realistic and yet cruel dream?
“Let me save you, then you’ll decide if you still want to hate me.” The voice sounded unusually scared and pleading, nevertheless full of conviction in the timbre it held and note it soothed.
After being hurt so much, could Jean let himself believe, let himself hope?
Hadn’t they had fallen in love because their lives were so different but their pain so similar?
Hadn’t he fallen in love with this smile, this mind, this hand, this person?
Was he so weak that other people’s cruelty had made him forget his soulmate, Charles?
It was all clearer now.
They both feared the future, they both refused to accept their fate without the other.
They both wanted to live.
They were not a executioner and his victim.
They were Charles and Jean.
They were going to live together.
He grabbed the hand.
-5 years later-
“Charlie, I’m home!” said a blond-haired figure after closing the door with one foot while carrying groceries. He wore a casual outfit, not eye-catching but not deprived either. His hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, to keep it from falling in front of his eyes. That 19-year-old young man was Jean Bufflet.
A lot had happened since he and Charles had decided to build themselves another fate, another future together. After escaping the prison, Charles had helped Jean disguise himself as they fled far away from their homes and their families with no regrets. After having made sure nobody was following them, they got Jean medical attention with some money Charles had gotten from selling his fancy clothes.
At first, Jean didn’t trust him entirely, just let himself be dragged on. Still, the memories from the days they had spent together had not been totally erased. Gradually, with time and patience, both of them regained the bond that had been damaged.
As Jean healed, Charles came up with a risky idea, but one that would permit them to escape from the cage they had been put in: Travel to New France.
It was the perfect plan. Since they couldn’t stay in France nor in England where they would take the risk to be found, New France was the best option. Not only was it so far away, nobody would even think of searching for them in this immense land.
Of course, they had to get there clandestinely, meaning getting false papers and names. Charles-Henri Sanson had become Charles Herty and Jean de Chartois, Jean Bufflet.
Time passed, Jean became a singer, performing in local bars or theaters. Meanwhile Charles had found a passion for writing and had made it his living. They had rented a house near a small town, close enough to have access to whatever they could need, while keeping a safe distance from villagers that might be a bit too curious.
Their relationship, already far from a normal friendship had evolved into something more, something called love, and not the best friend kind of love, it was the I-want-to-marry-you kind, the I’d-die-for-you kind, the I-can’t-sleep-without-you-by-my-side kind.
Getting over their personal traumas had been and was still a long and perilous road. Nightmares haunted them both often, but they knew that everything would turn out okay one day, as long as they were together.
It was all fine, now.
Two boys together were not something people generally accepted, but they did not care. Their love was stronger than anything. In fact, most of the people they knew only thought of them as best friends that shared a house, nothing more, nothing less.
After so much hardship, this kind of happiness felt sometimes unreal but more than welcomed.
Charles entered the living room before dropping the groceries on the table. He had called for his unofficial husband but when no response came he chose to go upstairs, maybe Charles had simply not heard him.
When again, no answer came from knocking on their bedroom door he turned the lock and entered only to be met with the most adorable sight. If cameras had existed at the time, he would have snuck a photo to contemplate later, which does sound a bit obsessive, but he was sure Charles wouldn’t have minded.
Head in his arms, sleeping soundly on his desk was his lover, black locks falling in front of his face.
It wasn’t unusual sight, Charles falling asleep in all kinds of places. Since his inspiration often came late at night, his sleep schedule wasn’t the best and Jean would find him asleep somewhere in the house more often than not especially when his deadline approached. As much as he would’ve liked to contemplate him more, Jean knew it would be best for him to eat before sleeping since he wasn’t sure the writer had eaten anything today.
Jean kneeled beside the chair and pushed back some strands of hair before placing a soft kiss on the other’s forehead.
“Charlie.” This was a nickname Jean had adopted the moment he saw how much it made Charles blush a couple of years ago. When he called, his partner stirred slightly and cracked one eye open. “You need to eat a little bit, mon amour.” he said softly.
The other groaned and shook his head before stretching his arms in the air. Jean watched his cute boyfriend as he chased the last remaining bits of sleep away.
He took his hand and led him outside the room, and at that moment, Charlie’s face shifted and beamed at Jean, his breath hitched in his throat as he realized for maybe a millionth time that Holy shit, his boyfriend is beautiful and How lucky is he to kiss him at that moment as they walked down the stairs into the kitchen, hand in hand. The whole time they exchanged kisses, making their way down way longer than it was supposed to as their hair meddled together, creating an illusion of the sun and the moon dancing together similar to an eclipse.
Maybe that was what they formed, an eternal eclipse from the moment they encountered.
And somehow, it was enough.