1940 June 18 – Paris, France

"Heartache and hidden tears – Tak's facing a somber reality."

Diary, today's entry is a tough one. The sun was setting over Paris, painting the sky in shades of sorrow. I was meeting with Eva Müller, a voice of hope in these bleak times. But the news she brought... it hit like a ton of bricks.

Lucas, the young refugee, the brave soul I'd come to see as a beacon of hope... he didn't make it. The words felt unreal, a cruel joke of fate. Lucas, with his resilient spirit and dreams of a better tomorrow, gone.

Eva's voice was soft, her eyes full of sympathy. She didn't know the bond Lucas and I shared, the silent promises made in the still of the night. How could she? My heart was breaking, but my face... it had to remain a mask, hiding the storm within.

I excused myself, stepped away under the guise of needing air. But really, it was to let out the pain, the tears that have been bottled up for centuries. The loss of Henry, now Lucas... it's like reliving an old wound, one that never truly heals.

I cried, Diary. I cried for Lucas, for Henry, for all the souls I've loved and lost. The tears of an immortal, they're a river of memories, each one a story, a fragment of my heart. But I couldn't let Eva see. She knows me as the playful, unbreakable Tak. She can't know the weight I carry, the scars hidden behind the smile. So, I wiped my tears, put on my bravest face, and returned.

We talked, Eva and I, about the war, about the cost of such senseless violence. But my mind was elsewhere, with Lucas, with every cherished memory now turned bittersweet. So, Diary, tonight I write with a heavy heart. The laughter will return, the adventures will continue. But for now, let me mourn, let me remember.

Until the next chapter, remember to cherish every moment, every connection.

Take care of him my love.  He was a good man, you will like him.

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