There was something special about the way Theodore and Guest met. Like all at once, they were supposed to meet. Theodore in his fathers suit, Guest in her mothers worn down heels and a dress she’d found last minute in the back of a storage closet.

Fifteen was an odd age to meet the one you thought you’d marry, but Theodore was sure of it. He was sure that she was the one. But sometimes, plans were meant to fail.

After the war, families were left destroyed. And Theodore, merlin, he might as well have died along with everyone else. He’d watched as his own father murdered men and women in cold blood, using the very powerful magic that ran through both their veins.

Two of those people being Guest’s parents. Her father, the very man he’d grown to trust, begged Theodore to help but all he could do was stand there, and stare down into their eyes. Her mother pleaded for mercy, crying out Guest’s name in her last breath before the light left her eyes.

Theodore left England after the war ended. After he murdered his own father. Something he should’ve done the moment he laid a hand on his mother when he was fourteen.

He fled to Italy. His home country.

He lived a quiet life, with an office job, a small dog, a small apartment on the coast. Everything was quiet. He kept in touch with a few other wizards, but rarely was his wand used anymore. He kept it stuffed in a drawer, haunting him with the life he used to live.

And years passed. His scars whitened, he grew mentally, learned more about himself and how he presented himself. Though it was a lonely life, perhaps it was better that way.

Till a coworker asked him out. For a drink sure. Casual, maybe a little more than casual. He went, perhaps to explore the possibilities of connections once more. But it was boring. All of the night he couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t Guest. Wasn’t her laugh, or her order.

When he got home that night, his life tilted upside down.

Because someone was in his house. A wizard or witch.

And when he reached his living room? Guest sat in front of his couch, his tiny puppy curled up in her lap like somehow she’d tamed the very dog it took him months to even play with.

Her eyes met his. Older, wiser, but no less bright. A certain shade of green that he memorized years ago.