Okay, I'm going to start this. Basically, if you want to have an imagine, comment the name you want to use (like you don't have to put your real name but it has to be an actual name) and I might write you one. For this I just used Psycho's French name, so...yeah. Beginning with Courfeyrac. Please be specific if you request one, i.e. the name you want to use, the barricade boy, other ships to include, happy or sad, etc. Thanks! I hope you like this idea.
Courfeyrac smiles and sweeps his hat off his head for a bow. "Greetings, Mademoiselle," he says playfully. You laugh in return, lightly punching the boy in the shoulder.
"Always the gentleman, then! Very nice to meet you, Monsieur de Courfeyrac."
"Courfeyrac. Just Courfeyrac. I detest the particle."
You smile, because you like people with such an easygoing attitude.
"See you around then, Just Courfeyrac."
"Yes, dinner! Dinner at a fancy restaurant, with little candles! C'mon?" he asks you, with those puppy eyes that you can never seem to resist.
"So...a date, you mean."
"Call it what you want," he says evasively, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. "Whatever it is, there shall be food and candles. And maybe flowers."
Laughing, you promise to meet him Friday at the Pour l'Amour des Crêpes, a small crêperie outside the city outskirts.
-many, many dates later-
It's a green dress, simple, and you know he'll love it. Well, he says he loves anything you wear, but green is his favorite color, and this dress...shows you off a bit. Smiling, you drive to the place. When you get to the restaurant he's sitting there, but at once you can tell that something is terribly, terribly wrong.
"...Courfeyrac?"
He smiles sadly at you. "Dinner's on me. Order whatever you want. Order a filet mignon! Have fun..."
"What's wrong. Tell me."
He orders bread.
Slowly, in an almost emotionless (emotionless! Courfeyrac! You know that something is wrong right away.) voice, he says, "the doctor said one month."
You immediately think of the impossible, of the worst. "One month...to what?" you ask, fearing the answer more than anything you've ever feared before.
"To live." The words come out as a whisper, barely heard over the music they're playing in the background.
No. No. Not Courfeyrac, the brightest spark you know, the man you...you love. Not him. Anyone but him.
You eat the rest of your dinner in silence, but you don't taste a bit.
"Damn aggressive cancer!" you sob, still unable to really believe he's almost gone. That this time next week, he might not be there.
He looks at you with eyes that hold barely a trace of the jovial tone they once had. "Marie..."
"Yes?" you choke.
"Marie, I've never been happier in my life than when I was with you. Without you my life was incomplete and empty. Marie..."
He reaches a trembling hand into his coat pocket and pulls out a ring. It's simple, a gold band with a mounted diamond. Inside the band is engraved your name. Your breath catches and tears spill down your face.
"Yes, yes yes yes."
You cover his face in kisses, tears of happiness that he loved you as much as he loved you, and tears of utter and complete despair because you know he always wanted but will never have a June wedding.
"Marie, I have and always will love you."
Those were the last words that he ever said.
You visit his grave every day. It's simple, not too elaborate. You put flowers there, and such, but it doesn't ease the pain that jabs like a knife in your heart.
Because Courfeyrac wasn't just another charming, laughing boy that struck your fancy. He was, and would always be, so much more.
