#anguise

OMG OKAY SO HERE WE GO

In this universe, soulmates always end up together, somehow. When one of the soulmate die, the other die of sadness less than a week after.

They also keep living in different eras, and they remember every single detail from their past lives.

During the LPDM era, they dated two whole years before being discovered by a servant, who told everyone they were "sinning". They both were murdered, Anjou promising that they would "see each other in another life".

They kept reincarnating, being aristocrats during the French revolution for instance.

Nowadays, they're know as Henri and Henri Anjou-Guise, an adorable couple who lives in Paris. De Guise works as a bodyguard for celebrities, and Anjou is a well-known lawyer.

Unfortunately, one day, our favorite bodyguard gets shot and die, Anjou immediatly knowing when De Guise draws his last breath.

He calls one of his intellectual friends, knowing he's passionate about travelling in time, and that he studied it for years.

Anjou knows he'll see De Guise in another life, but he don't want to die. Dying is too scary. Dying is too painful. Dying is an awful process.

So he accepts his friend's offer to try his travel in time machine. He has nothing to lose, since he'd have 7 days to live anyway.

So he chooses to travel in the future, not knowing what's waiting for him.

He meets the future version of Anguise, and thinks he'll die in 7 days, missing his husband even more when he sees the actual couple.

Fortunately, he also meets a De Guise from even further in the future, who was surprised when he didn't find his soulmate at his era.

They live an amazing life when they travel back at Anjou's era, De Guise staying at home to avoid getting shot again.

Standing at the end of the secret corridor, Henry’s heartbeat was out of control, his guts twisting in a mix of fear and remorse. He just had the chance to explain to Marie that she was mistaken, that the love they shared was long gone. Instead he had played along once again. He felt like he betrayed his lover, keeping this little game going; how was he supposed to explain to Alexandre that it was all that was, a game, that his heart only belonged to him and no one else. Right now, drenched in rain, all he wanted was to embrace the warm body of the other man. But did he deserve it?

He closed his eyes with a sign and, after making sure he couldn’t hear anyone in the room, pushed the hidden door. Henry entered from behind one of the expensive tapestries that covered the prince’s room. The passage secret was one they had found when younger, probably a getaway in case of an emergency. They used it to have secret meetings instead. To his surprise, Alex wasn’t sleeping, he was on the bed, legs crossed, wearing a nightgown, staring at the fire gently burning in the fireplace on the other side of the room. He smiled at him, turning it into a small grin when faced with his perplexity.

“I knew you’d come; you always do when we have any kind of fight.’

And he was right, every single time their voices had raised toward the other, he would come back, tail between his legs like a beaten dog begging for his master’s forgiveness. He hated the picture but that was what it was. And let’s say that tonight they had had quite a fight, without even speaking. It was a night of supposed joy and amusement, but because of Marie and the denial she was in, it had ruined it for them. Mistaking the royal for the duke, she had stated she would wait for him after the ball, giving birth to tension between the two men. And despite one telling her the other would not be coming for him, and said other climbing her window to tell her it would never keep on, she was still sure Henry loved her. She was such a pain, but even more was his inability to tell her entirely off. He liked the attention she gave him; it was funny to play with her while having a secure love on the side. But he knew it wasn’t to his lover’s taste and it sometimes frightened him, because it could break them apart. And that was the last thing he wanted. Anjou stood up and walked toward him, frowning at his state while letting his finger slide amongst his wet auburn hair

“You’re drenched, get those clothes off before you get sick.”

For good measure he also dragged him toward the fire, forcing him to sit on the also very expansive carpet. While henry took off his clothes, with great difficulty as every inch of fabric tried to stick to his skin, his partner went and brought him dry clothes. He soon was wearing a dress shirt that did not belonged to him, and loose pants not fit for nobility; but it was comfy and he couldn’t care less about what he looked like right now. Anjou sat down next to him and gently dried his hair with a towel, or more likely an old shirt usé jusqu’à la corde that had been hanging around his clothes. He let himself be tended to, he loved it. It was a different kind of attention, not the undying thirst that Marie gave him; it was a gentle, caring one, that he felt good enough to relax around. No knife in his back if he let his guard down around him. He gently let his head down, forehead against the prince’s shoulder, eyes closed. Alexander planted a kiss on the top of his head before stopping himself and letting his palm rest against the other’s cheek.

“God you’re so cold… come here.”