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He was young.
It was long before he had devoted himself to The Ceaseless Watcher, long before he had lost so many of his friends.
He was young and happy and he had just set up his Institute and he wondered what he would leave behind.
A family? Unlikely though not impossible. His preferences and identity were the biggest roadblocks but he had heard of others like him who had managed to live perfectly happy lives with their partners.
His obsession with his work? Perhaps a bigger obstacle, he rarely spent time socializing outside of his immediate circle of friends unless he intended to get money out of it.
He thought about it though, in the dead of the night as he lay next to one of his lovers. A little child with his piercing grey eyes who would go on to follow in his footsteps. Some of the others had either had children (Mordechai) or were planning on it soon enough (Albrecht) and they seemed happy enough, though it was a little hard to tell with Lukas and Jonah wasn’t sure if he ever really interacted with his own children.
It would be pleasant, Jonah mused, but children were messy and if his own parents were anything to go by, his child might end up nothing like him, all that effort wasted.
A reputation, would people talk of him after he died? Would they remember him fondly in their hearts?
Well, he hoped his friends would, but on the whole, he doubted society would remember him at all. Anyway, that way led to people poking their noses into his private business and that was the last thing he needed getting public.
He imagined it though, people writing about him and his work years and years after his death. It was when he went to think about what they would say that Jonah's little dream fell apart. He was awkward with an uncanny interest in the occult, he gave little to charity and was known for being sharp-tongued, merciless with those he considered beneath him.
His Institute? Well, hopefully, that would be a given, provided he and whoever ran the Institute after his death could keep bringing money in. Surely the Lukas’s wouldn’t fund his Institute forever.
Who would run it after him though? The thought made him shudder, who else could he trust to leave his beloved Institute too? He would have to someday, he guessed, but all of the thoughts of his own death started to weigh on him. He shoved all of the thoughts to the back of his mind, he would find someone eventually and in the meantime would run his Institute exactly as he pleased.
Jonah rested his neck on the back of his chair, body still uncoordinated after his change. He marveled at the youthful skin of his hands as he stretched them out to look.
Who needed a legacy, when you could live forever?