"It's our anniversary again," Edward said quietly. The wind slipped into the room, a warm, pleasant breeze that ruffled his hair. He tucked it back behind one ear, then quickly put it back where it'd been. Hair in his face was better than hair behind his ear.
"I don't have candles this time, so we'll have to make do," he told his lover.
Alfons didn't answer, eyes closed as he slept not at all peacefully, his breath a shallow wet rattle in his chest.
Edward took his hand gently, careful not to wake him and rob him of the precious sleep. "I'll cook for us tonight, you don't have to do a thing," Edward promised. "Just rest. Get stronger again. You'll be back to teaching more about cooking and constellations in no time."
Empty promises. He'd be cooking for one tonight, Alfons too weak and sick to eat anymore, slowly wasting away. He'd never teach Edward more about that world's stars, or about the cooking he'd need to do to survive without Alfons. Alfons's time was over, and it was just a waiting game for the rest of him to catch up.
"I love you," Edward whispered, leaning forward and kissing Alfons's forehead lightly, careful to not wake him up.
Alfons smiled faintly in his sleep, and exhaled with a sigh.
Edward held his hand long after the cold had set in.