Pov: Leon
The castle was quiet. Always quiet.
Leon preferred it that way. He'd grown used to the silence over the centuries—the way it wrapped around him like a second skin, pressing in on his bones like the weight of every year he'd lived and every face he'd forgotten. A haunting stillness filled every stone hallway and dark room, broken only by the ticking of an ancient clock or the occasional rustle of wings from the ravens outside.
He sat alone in his massive study, tall windows veiled by sheer black curtains that kept the sun out and the mystery in. A fire burned low, casting golden light across the room, flickering over shelves stacked with dusty books and relics of forgotten worlds. His presence was magnetic but terrifying—just his gaze could send most creatures scuttling into the shadows. He wasn't cruel, just... distant. Cold. Empty.
Until tonight.
Something shifted. He felt it before he could explain it.
He stilled.
A strange warmth flickered in his chest—foreign, intrusive, alive. Like a whisper against his skin, an energy pulsing softly across the corners of his mind. His eyes narrowed, glowing faintly silver as he rose slowly to his feet. It was like... something called to him. No—someone.
Not fear. Not danger. Something sweeter. Something ancient. Something his.
He closed his eyes, focused, and there it was again—her. That same dream from nights ago. The girl with the fire in her eyes. He could see her again now, clearer than before: dark curls, rich skin kissed by sunlight, laughter like soft bells in a distant memory he never had. Her essence was unfamiliar and yet... impossibly familiar.
His breath hitched. He hadn't breathed in years.
And now he couldn't stop.
"She's here," he whispered.
"Who's here?" came a voice behind him. Leon turned to see Damon standing in the doorway, arms crossed, golden eyes wary. Behind him, Cassandra leaned against the wall with her usual smirk.
"You're acting weird," she said. "And that's saying something, coming from a vampire who spends his days reading ancient poetry and brooding over red wine."
Leon didn't reply. He just stared out the window like he could pierce through the veil of mountains and forests and see her.
They exchanged glances.
"Leon," Damon said, stepping closer. "You felt it, didn't you? Something changed."
Leon finally looked back at them, his expression unreadable, a small spark glowing behind his usually lifeless eyes.
"I don't know what it is yet," he murmured, "but I know... it's important."
Cassandra tilted her head. "You mean someone."
Leon didn't answer.
Because deep down—he already knew.
He just wasn't ready to admit that the thing that made him feel alive again… was a girl he hadn't even met.
Yet.
---
Later that night, as the moon carved soft light across the vast landscape beyond his window, Leon still hadn't moved.
He was haunted—not by ghosts or past regrets—but by her.
Every breath he took felt like a betrayal to his silence, and yet, his body hummed with energy. His fingertips tingled. His heart—long frozen in time—gave a single, quiet thump.
Across the ocean, in a small, cozy hotel room nestled on a sun-kissed Italian hillside, Malia stirred.
Her sleep had been deep, but suddenly, her face twisted gently with emotion. Her fingers curled in the sheets. She was dreaming again.
And he was there.
Standing in the shadows. Always just out of reach.
He wore black from head to toe, tall and elegant, his eyes like galaxies—silver, glowing, unreadable. He didn't speak at first. Just watched her with a kind of reverence that felt too intense to be a stranger's gaze.
She took a hesitant step toward him.
"Who are you?" she whispered. "Why do I keep seeing you?"
He blinked slowly, then tilted his head. The room around her darkened.
His voice—deep, ancient, soft as silk—slipped into her dream like a secret never meant to be heard.
"She's closer."
Malia's eyes snapped open.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she sat up in bed, clutching her sheets like they'd anchor her to reality.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry.
But her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Meanwhile, miles away, in his gothic fortress of solitude, Leon opened his eyes too.
He exhaled slowly, and for the first time in over a century... he smiled.
---