"So… This is it, isn't it?"
His voice was weak, trickling out of his mouth like the blood oozing off of the stab wound in his side, the pallet knife that made it far gone.
"Hah, look… Even my rose gave up…" He muttered, shakily lifting the blue rose to eye level, just as a deeply colored petal grew gray and wilted, sliding off the bloom and falling to the ground.
"It isn't funny, Garry!" Boris snapped, still holding Garry's body on his lap, cuddling the taller man to his chest. "We- we'll find a vase, yeah, we'll find a vase and you'll be good as new!"
He was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Garry.
He couldn't die here, not now. He had to get back to his world, back to his family, just like Boris did.
Garry let out another feeble chuckle, leaning his head into the crook of Boris' neck, his breathing shaky and shallow.
"No, it's quite all right." He said, shaking his head, wincing slightly at the pain in his side. "It's beginning to fade."
"That isn't a good sign, Garry!" Boris yelled, his grip on Garry tightening in effort of keeping the tears in. Mary had popped out from around a corner he didn't even see, apologizing with a sickened smile on her face, before running down the hall towards the long painting at the end of the hall.
"…Boris?" His voice was almost inaudible now, the light in his eyes fading slowly. "I can't see much anymore. Are you still there?"
A shock of pain hit Boris when he realized he wasn't going to be able to save Garry. Nothing could help him now, Boris finally knew that. He bit back the sobs building in his chest, and shook his head.
"…Yeah. I'm still here, Violet." Boris, said, moving his hand to gently stroke Garry's hair, smiling against his misty eyes at the petname. "What's up?"
"Please don't leave." Garry whispered, dropping his rose onto the floor and moving, sluggishly, to cup Boris' face. "Stay with me for a while? Just for company's sake."
Boris, feeling the tears began to fill his eyes, nods, clenching his jaw.
Garry's face melts into an elated smile, his own darkening eyes tearing up.
"Thank you…"
They sat like that, as the petals from Garry's rose slowly wilted and crumpled to the floor, Garry's face paling by the minute, and Boris simply holding Garry. Sharing his fleeting body warmth.
Then Garry began to shake, it was getting harder for him to breathe.
He heaved breathes in, coughing violently until blood ran down the corner of his mouth, a pained expression washing over his features.
"Just hang in there, Garry…" Boris soothed, gently petting the back of Garry's head. "Please, just a little while longer."
Garry did not answer, only responded with ragged breathing and curling up closer to Boris' chest, clinging to his shirt for dear life.
And Boris, hot tears finally spilling over, watched as the light finally left Garry's eyes, and he went limp and cold.
Gone.
He was gone.
A scream of pain echoed through Boris' mind, bouncing off the walls of the gallery, and he didn't even care that it was from his own throat.
Garry was gone. He wasn't coming back.
But he would keep his promise.
He'd never leave Garry's side.
He had to keep him company.
That's what Garry wanted, right?