Dane stared down at the hand around his wrist and for a moment the world just stopped. No, it didn't just stop. It vanished completely. The falling snow could have filled the entire world until it was nothing but white for all he noticed. Because that hand on his wrist felt exactly as he remembered.

For the first time he felt a true spark of hope. Like maybe, just maybe he wouldn't have to spend every year alone until the end of days. Maybe he could really have Lucian again. His Lucian. And with that, a detail fell into place. He didn't see the whole picture, but an idea hit him.

"One drink," he agreed. "But...this might seem like a very strange question. But there's...there's this date. When something happened." He rattled off the exact day in 1862. And gave the saddest smile. "How soon after that were you born?"