Collins's breath turned raspy, a few coughs pushing out from past his lips as he lay on the hospital bed. The fit passed quickly, but he knew that it would be only moments before another hit. He relaxed against the thin pillow, moaning quietly at the pain in his sore muscles. The ones around his ribs hurt especially, each breath he took uncomfortable. A radio played in the hallway, its music floating in his open door. He shut his eyes and listened to the familiar tune playing. As the lyrics and melody flowed through his mind, he reflected on his life and the love that made it worth living, the person who had died nearly six years ago.

There are stars in the southern sky
Southward as you go
There is moonlight and moss in the trees
Down the seven bridges road...

"Collins! Come on, honey!" Collins jogged after his sprinting lover, wondering what the hell had gotten into her this time. She acted like this when she was excited about something. But usually she got excited about a new outfit she had made, a new beat she had tried or nights that she went out dancing with Mimi and Maureen. Her energy those times had either gotten him an extremely hyper or horny Angel, and when she was either of those things, they usually ended up in the same place: their bed. Never before had Collins wound up running after Angel through Tompkins Square Park at 11 pm. when she got excited. He ignored the way that junkies and dealers shot him and his lover dirty looks.

"Angel, slow down, girl, this old man can't keep up!"

She stopped and whirled around. "No, hurry up! We might miss them!"

Collins's breath appeared in light puffs in front of his mouth. "Miss who, baby?"

Instead of answering, she took his hand and tugged him into a bunch of trees. "The stars," she finally told him as they stepped into a clearing.

Collins halted, planting his feet in the moist soil. She had sprinted through the park to see stars? "Angel, you won't be able to see any stars, baby. This is New York City. There's too much smog in the sky," he said gently, not wanting to spur disappointment. She ignored him. Her eyes remained locked on the dark blue sky, staring hard at the heavens like she could make the smog go away with just her own will. She was beautiful standing there, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by trees. Suddenly her face relaxed.

"It just takes faith, querido," she informed him. "Look."

He turned his eyes heavenward, searching with all his might for the stars his lover could see. The sky remained dark for him.

Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child...

Collins stirred from his sleep slowly, blinking to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Red numbers shone harshly from the bedside: 3:15 A.M. He groaned quietly, reaching over his lover, intent on going back to sleep. The bed was empty. Collins sat up, worried. It was then that he heard what must've woken him up in the first place. Soft sobs could be heard from the next room, sobs he knew well to be his lover's. He quickly got out of bed and padded barefoot into the small living room. Angel was curled up in a corner of the ratty leather couch. Her head rested on her knees, shoulders shaking as she cried. Collins went over to her, sliding onto the couch and putting an arm around her. "What's wrong, baby girl, why are you crying?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her short hair.

Angel looked up, her beautiful face streaked with tears. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing louder now. "How can you love me, Collins?"

Shock overcame the anarchist. "How?" he asked dumbly.

"Yes, how?" Her choked voice was barely audible. "How can you love me with all the things I've done, Collins? I'm dirty, I'm trash, I'm nothing - "

"No. Never say that, Angel." His firm voice surprised her, and she looked up at him. "Angel, baby, I love you because you are the most amazing person I have ever met. You're beautiful, caring, funny, understanding, amazing... there aren't enough words to describe how lucky I am to have you, baby. It doesn't matter to me how you got to be this way. And how can you say you're nothing? You're not. How could you be, when you're everything to me?" His voice broke on the last statement, emotion clenching his throat tight. She let out a little sob before kissing him lightly. He returned her affection, stroking the back of her head.

Angel and Collins remained awake for the rest of the night, her head on his chest as she told him of her past. Her voice was soft in the small apartment, telling him of her past, how she would wait for her customers in back alleys and sleazy clubs, how the slimy hands of New York's drunkards felt on her smooth skin. He merely listened, cradling her delicate body as if she were a child.

And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild...

He lay awake beside her thin, sleeping form. He knew she wouldn't be that way for long. Soon, she would bolt upright, her chest rasping with horrid coughs. But for now she was still, getting well-deserved sleep. Collins watched her peaceful face as he often did when he was lying beside her. He reached up to trace his fingers across her skin. They explored the smooth expanse of her forehead, the proud arch of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. He gently touched her thin eyelids, her lashes tickling his knuckles. His fingers danced down the slope of her cute nose, skipping over the dark blue marring the middle. Her cheeks were a paler tan than he was used to, but just as soft. Her lips were still the same, though instead of the bright red he remembered, they were only a pale pink.

He recalled the way she used to wake up when he touched her lips. She would reach up and hold his hand to her face, nuzzling against his warm skin. Then she would roll over to kiss him, her fatigue slipping away in favor of arousal. Those were the tender times, a sweet, slow fuck, their lips attached. Those were his favorite, though he didn't object when she threw him down onto their bed and rode him wildly either.

He tried not to remember that those times were over now. He got distracted from that thought by a coughing beside him, and then he was too busy comforting her to remember what he was thinking about before.

Sometime's there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the seven bridges road.

Collins coughed deeply, clutching at his ribs. He remembered when he tried to run away, to run from the dismal, cold, unfeeling city. He went to Santa Fe. The first thought he had when he stepped off of the bus was how much Angel would've liked it there. It was bright, sunny, colorful, everything she had loved. He spent two months in New Mexico, working as a tutor when suddenly it hit him.

The realization of what he had been doing hit him so hard that he nearly dropped his coffeepot onto the counter. He thought he had come here to achieve his dream, to open his restaurant. He fooled himself into thinking that Angel would've liked to live here with him. She wouldn't have liked it. Angel lived for love, she lived for loving her family. Home for Angel was where her family was, and that was New York.

He had packed his bags that night and left as early as possible the next morning. He needed to leave behind the warmth and color, the life and happiness. He needed to go home. And to Collins, home meant wherever Angel was.

There are stars in the southern sky
And if ever you decide you should go…

The music had long since ended, and Collins found himself unable to sleep in the dismal hospital room. He could barely see in the darkness. The dim moonlight filtering in his window didn't help any. He didn't want to sleep. The only thing he could dream of was her, and it made him even more eager to meet his end. She would be ashamed if she knew what he was thinking.

Curious, Collins carefully and slowly made his way out of his bed and to a chair placed below the window of his room. He looked through the glass, up to a smudged navy sky. He could tell it was clear even though smog prevented his view of the heavens.

"It just takes faith, querido…" Her words floated through his mind, making a charge of energy bolt through him body. Intently, he searched the sky, feeling something grow within him with each passing moment.

There is a taste of time-sweetened honey
Down the seven bridges road…

He looked through the night, until exhaustion took over his body. But as his eyes closed, he tasted honey and lemon, the taste of her lips. He felt the brush of her skin on his cheek. He heard the music of her laughter in his ears.

And as he looked to the sky for the final time, Collins saw stars twinkling down at him, beckoning him down the road.