This is a very, very tragic story I have written just a day before school starts.

If you do not like death, please avoid reading this.

Thus, I bring to you, the tragic story of Bard and Finny.

Bardroy

March 12, 1852

Finnian, you love me, don't you?

I am growing weaker and weaker by the day, and I fear that I will never be able touch you, kiss you, and embrace you anymore. I fear that I will leave this world sooner than I expected. I have told you countless times that I have always felt old, but now I know, I have realized, that I am still young, too young for this disease to take me away from you. But there is nothing I can do now.

Finny, they say I have consumption. It is incurable as of now; and I know that I will not survive this misfortune, but Finnian, my beloved, do not cry for me. Promise me that you will live in jubilation and happiness, swear that by my grave.

Do not come to visit me in the hospital, you might catch a disease. Just wait and see if I live. There is nothing to be done about this now, is there? When my body comes back, bury me in your garden, bury me with your love. This is my last wish.

Don't do anything that will bring you harm, Finnian. And when you feel sad, just think of us, of what we have done, all of the memories I now leave to you.

Do you think this is because I live with smoke by my side daily? Yes, maybe so. But Finnian, I regret nothing, because wherever I will be going, I know that I have your love with me.

I am forever yours, Finnian, but don't be scared to love again. Do it for yourself, do it for me.

Always yours, even in death,

Bard

And now I'm standing here, fulfilling your last wish. Bard, you bastard! Why didn't you tell me? Is this the reason why you were rushing to take my virtue? Why you kept showering me with kisses, embraces? Bard, why didn't you tell me? If I knew that we didn't have any time left…

Bard, Bard. I need you. Tell me what is the purpose of life without you? How can I love anyone else when I'm burying my heart here with you? Along with the roses and tulips I was finally able to grow. Bard, I can't live without you.

I love you so much, Bard. You... I'm afraid without you. You are the reason why I can sleep soundly at night; why I wake up in the morning.

Bard.

I'll follow you. I'm always yours, even in death.

-Maylene POV-

Poor Finnian. He requested that he bury Bard alone. They have been really close these past few days, have they not? Bard had me and promise that we will never tell Finny about his disease, but I suppose that is because he wanted to cherish his last moments in happiness, not in sadness.

Bard, wherever you are, I know that you are happy. May your spirit rest, soldier.

Finny has not come back. I suppose he's still crying. I'll take a look at him, maybe one look at Bard before Finny… I can't even think about it. Bard…

I cross the kitchen doors, to find Finny digging yet another ditch. I wonder what that is for. Finny looks back at me apologetically, so I furrow my brows as I approach him.

"Finny, what is that for?" I ask, while eyeing the mound of soil Bard lies underneath just beside the depression Finny has created.

"I can't take it, Maylene. I can't, I just can't." Finny says, his eyes directed at Bard's grave. As I move to comfort him, he produces a vial of dark liquid out of his pocket and steps in the depression he has made.

"Finny, what are you doing?" I ask, this time in sheer confusion and terror.

"I love, and always will love Bard, even in death," he whispers, just before he takes the vial and drinks, gulps the dark liquid. I then realize what he is doing, and I try to snatch the vial but alas, he is strong, too strong for me.

"Finny!" I shout just as he convulses in front of me. I scream, I scream for help, for Sebastian, for anyone, for I don't know what to do. I watch helplessly as the pitiful sight of Finny's face grows lifeless and as he falls to the ground I do the same, weeping.

I can do nothing now, but weep and cradle Finny in my arms.

Finny, what have you done?

And even as Master Ciel watches this display, I do not move. I am too grief-stricken, too afraid. Sebastian approaches me with the intention of taking you away, Finny. I let you go.

Bard, wherever you are, please forgive Finny.

And may both of your souls rest.

I faint, just before seeing a flash of red appear before your graves.

Consumption, by the way, means tuberculosis.

You are all very free to flame this story, and I do know how tragic it is.

Very well, if you have liked it, then thank you, but if you hated it, I am very sorry.

Yours truly,

Till you smile again