Mira Volturi carried the heavy burden of regret, a specter from her days as Mathilde Baudelaire in the early ages. The most gut-wrenching of these memories involved leaving a man alone, alone to rot in the hands of pure evil.
For over a century, the weight of regret clung to Mira, a constant companion in her journey through time. This haunting memory, like a melancholic melody, played on a loop in the recesses of her mind, a poignant reminder of a choice that stained her soul.
The pain of regret wasn't just a passing twinge—it was an anchor, pulling her into the depths of her own culpability. This emotional storm, a ceaseless sea of sorrow, threatened to drown her in its relentless waves.
With each passing year, the regret seemed to grow, casting a shadow over Mira's immortal existence. It became an enduring part of her, a cruel paradox that both tormented and captivated her.
And when she saw him, a century later alive and all the same, her mind was struck by realisation. His fate had been so similar to hers. She condemned this life to him
For over a century she had lived in pain and agony of pure regret. The worst feeling anyone could ever have. It drowned and drowned her until she could no more. Mathilde Mira could not sleep and in the darkness of space all she could see was his concerning eyes.
Seated in the heart of the room, she gazed out, taking in the expanse that surrounded her. A sense of pride swelled within as she realized this marked a significant moment – her first genuine venture into settling down. The grandeur of the house she had acquired, now transformed into a home by her own efforts, evoked a profound satisfaction.
Her abode stood in stark contrast to modernity, and the admission came with a wry smile. The brunette couldn't deny her deliberate choice. Born and bred within the embrace of ancient walls, she found comfort in the echoes of history. It was a sentiment that guided her decisions, creating a sense of familiarity that now enveloped her new dwelling. The essence of her roots had seamlessly woven itself into the fabric of this space, transforming it into a haven that echoed with the whispers of time.
A bell rung.
The lone vampire was quick on her feet, not hearing anyone come near her home.
