Here I am staring at your perfection
In my arms, so beautiful
The sky is getting bright, the stars are burning out
Somebody slow it down

This is way too hard, cause I know
When the sun comes up, I will leave
This is my last glance that will soon be memory

And when the daylight comes I'll have to go
But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close
Cause in the daylight we'll be on our own
But tonight I need to hold you so close

Maroon 5 – Daylight

He can hear her voice whispering to him as he drifts in and out of sleep. As his eyes drift shut, her figure swims in front of him and he can hear her like a melody in his mind. "Tom, dearest," she sings. And he can't help the tears that seep out of his shut eyelids.

He wants to murmur at her to come closer, to come back, to be real, but he's terrified of breaking this enchantment that allows him to see her as though she's sitting right there. As though she's still alive.

'I love you,' he thinks, and prays that she hears it.

"I know," she tells him, and reaches out her hand to touch his face. "I loved you too."

He starts, because her flesh feels so real. "Are you here?" he whispers, forgetting to not speak.

"No," she tells him. But she doesn't look sad. Just… loving.

"Don't leave me," he says, but his voice breaks.

Now she does look sad. "But I have to, dearest," she tells him. "I don't belong here anymore."

"Then neither do I!" he exclaims.

"Don't be silly," she says. "You have to stay. You have to love, and to live."

"Why?"

"You know why."

And he does. "I'm going to call her Sybil," he tells her almost defiantly.

She sighs. "Must you?" she asks resignedly. They hadn't discussed names.

"You were all I ever had, Sybil. Now she's all I have."

"What if I were to ask you not to?"

"I won't listen to you."

"Why not?"

"You're not real," he tells her.

She looks surprised by this. "Aren't I?" she asks. "Just because I'm not really here, does that mean I'm not real?"

"Doesn't it?"

"I suppose it's up to you."

"Can you…"

"Can I what?"

"Can you lie with me?"

She giggles. "I'm dead and still all you can think about is sex."

"Not like that!" he exclaims, flushing. "Just… lie against me. So I can hold you."

"Oh." She considers. "Like this?" She lies on his bed beside him, and he wraps his arms around her.

He's amazed by how real she feels. "Like this," he agrees, burying his head in her neck. She even smells like her.

"I don't ever want to let go," he whispers.

"I'll leave anyway," she whispers. "You can't stop it."

"I thought we'd have the rest of our lives together."

"Tom," her voice is reprimanding. "I thought you knew better to believe in fairy tales."

He shrugs. "What can I say? I married a dreamer. I suppose she rubbed off on me."

They're both silent for a while, and he basks in her presence. "You have to love her twice as much," she says suddenly. "For you and for me."

"I will, I swear."

"Good." She snuggles further into his arms. "Now sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake?"

"Of course not, dearest. But rest anyway. You have a lot to face in these coming weeks. Sleep softly while I'm still here to hold you close."

"I don't want to lose you."

"You'll never lose me. I'll be waiting for you. Always."

"I'll come as soon as I can," he promises.

"Not too soon."

"No, not too soon."

His eyelids are heavy now, but he can't seem to stop them shutting. He's been awake for so long… so long…

Sybil begins humming a lullaby. Her smooth tones help him drift off to sleep, and as he falls into unconsciousness a small smile touches his face.

When he wakes up with the dawn light, his arms are empty and his bed is cold.