Two Hundred Years Together Novels & Stories

“Hmm. I think I wouldn’t have any regrets even if I die right now.” “What nonsense is that?” “Why? I am happy and content. What’s wrong with that?” “We have not lived together enough.” “Well, that’s true. Though, I think it will never be enough.” “All the more reason to live a long time.” “Fine. Let’s celebrate 100 years together. We have to live till I am 120, and you are 123 to do that.“ “You should subtract the three years you ran off from your calculation.” “123 for me and 126 for you then.”

20 Centuries Luka was the first to ask his father, “why 20 centuries? That is 2000 years, that is a ridiculously long time to be alive.” The King replied, “You are not just an alpha, you and your brother are Tsunami Alphas, and can live up to thousands of years. If you find your mate, you have the option of aging as normal humans do, and pass on to eternal rest, or you can live up till any age you desire. It is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because you get to spend eternity with your mate, and a curse because you could live hundreds of years without your mate, and then eventually cause the destruction of every living being on this earth.

Twenty years of searching. Finally done. Now we could live. Really live.

He paused. "I'm 213 years old, Sophia. And I'll probably live at least 200 more. Maybe 300." The world didn't tilt, but my very foundation felt utterly shaken. Five hundred years. He could live five hundred years. "And me?" I whispered. "You too. Now that we've completed the bond," His grip on my hand tightened. "I'm telling you this because… because I need you to understand what exactly you've committed to." "We'll be together… for centuries?" I struggled to utter the words.

“Would you prefer I demand you mate with me immediately? And lock you in here until you agree?” “No.” “Then understanding is what you get.” I wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. “This is so messed up.” “Yes.” “We’ve been doing this for five hundred years.” “Yes.” “And it always ends badly.” “So far.” “What makes you think this time will be different?” He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel his warmth. “I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out.” “Together?” “Together.” The word felt heavy. And important it was a promise we’d made across lifetimes.A promise we’d never been able to keep.

it just happened. She has just turned twenty-one and I was twenty-two. Young and bold. We were together for around six years. And our fathers were utterly happy for us. They saw it as another business possibility. Through the marriage, they could've merged their companies. Whiskey and bottles producing together. It was the perfect plan. But it turned out life has other plans.

As if everything will end and drift away if we don't give our all tonight but there's nothing for us to worry about because as far as we're heading, we're content and grateful for this. To think back about twenty-years ago seems like a dream, from the moment he pushed me off the swing and up till now, there's nothing better in life than being together. We've always been together from the very beginning and our lives revolve around each other, from when we were kids, up till we were teenagers and now, being adults. We might as well spend our next decades creating new and beautiful memories, together. Because all I want is him.

Just—being inside it. Giving it the time it deserved. Lyra was the first to speak. "Simultaneous," she said. "Yes," Sera said. "Not one territory at a time. All of them." "All documented territories. And wherever the diagnostic identifies the mechanism." Lyra was quiet. Then: "Twenty-two years," she said. Not with grief. With the specific finality of someone closing a very long chapter. "Twenty-two years," she said again. "And now it moves," Sera said.

He smiled lightly, and then continued speaking, journeying down memory lane as he spoke… *TWELVE YEARS AGO* Ten year old Maxwell Conat was curled in bed. He could hear clattering sounds and heavy footsteps coming from downstairs. When he heard his nanny's pain shrieking screams, he started to get out of bed. He could already guess what was going on. They were being robbed. Maxwell with light steps left his room, and then started to go to his parents room, which was right beside his own.

Just the plain statement of a fact that had arrived with full clarity at last. Twenty years of Louis. Twenty years of the warmth and the consistency and the friendship that had felt completely real because it was real and had been built on top of something else that was also real and the two things had coexisted for twenty years without Charles seeing the second thing underneath the first. He had seen it now. Completely and without any of the charitable interpretation that proximity and history and love produced when you were inside something. He sat with it. I sat beside him. Outside the city moved through its Tuesday evening.