Chapter Text
As he ran his claws along the intricate gold frame of the image, he wondered, not for the first time, how he could make these memories stay. It had been a mistake, really, what he had done, and the only way he knew to undo it was stuck within the locket.
It took him a century after Oakhurst to finally have the courage to flick it open, to look at the painting within.
Keep it close.
Keep them close.
Don't let it happen again.
Remember for as long as you can.
Four simple rules he told himself, every time.
He wouldn't forget this time.
That's what he always said
~~~
Keep it close.
Keep it closed.
Don't feel it again.
Pretend it doesn't exist.
The words echoed in his mind as he made his way out of his room and into the kitchen to meet Shelby for breakfast.
Every morning, he woke up with a growing sense of unease. Every morning, his eyes would fall on the locket he kept on his bedside table. And every morning, the sight would fill him with dread.
He blamed it on Oakhurst.
The two hundredth anniversary was rapidly approaching, after all.
He took a single breath before putting on his best smile and strutting into the room, offering a “good morning” as he brought the bottled blood out of the fridge.
Everything was as it always had been.
Settling into the seat next to Shelby, Scott refused to believe anything different.