We Are the Stars
A/N: I did a thing.
She was on her side, waiting, and he was sitting and staring. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, and to tell her it would be okay. Yet that would ruin everything. That would shatter the already delicate glass that was holding back a storming wave of emotions. So he would just sit and stare. Because that was good. She was there, so that was good. That was good enough.
He could sit.
He could stare.
He could wait.
He was sitting and staring, and she was on her side, waiting. And she knew. She knew he was there. She didn't want to acknowledge him. Acknowledging him meant reaching into a part of life she wasn't ready for. Yet with every labored breath, she felt him. She could smell him. Yet touching him meant breaking some unbreakable bond, like snapping a tightrope as you walk over Niagara Falls. Touching him meant breaking. Touching him meant she'd either won or lost the race. She liked the suspense. She always had. So she would just be on her side and wait. Because that was good. He was there, so that was good. That was good enough.
She could lay on her side.
She could hold back.
She could wait.
And the strings are snapping one by one
One
By
One
And she's staring, too, dead ahead, and he's everywhere. He's all around her, and she is staring and he is waiting and she is sad and he is happy and she is overjoyed and he is crushed.
And she smiles for the first time in months, and they hold her hand. Her parents. Yes, her parents are there. Their hand is warm. She is cold. Once, her thoughts were like stars she could not fathom into constellations, yet now she could not even fathom the star, the simplicity of a star, because a star burns and dies and she doesn't know why and then she just doesn't have the capacity to think because she is the star, she is the star and she is fading and where is her constellation? Where is her happily ever after? Because the whole world is shit and it isn't fair and she is done and she does not deserve this pain in her chest and she deserves to breathe on her own and she wins. She wins.
What colour is the wall?
She wins.
What colour is the bed sheet?
She wins.
She wins.
She wins.
And she smiles, and she opens her mouth, and her parents are smiling and crying because they know this is it.
And now she knows. Now she sees their eyes and their faces. And she opens her mouth to speak but words just don't work anymore. She smiles. She smiles, and she exhales.
They say with your last breath your soul leaves you, and you are gone. She would argue this with every fiber of her being. She is not gone, she is more, and she rolls over and she smiles because there is a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and she knows. "Hey."
"Hey."
"Where've you been?"
"Six feet under."
"Well it looks like I'm going to meet you there."
"You're already here."
She sits up and he is right, and here is beautiful. "I win, Gus."
"Hm?"
"I win."
"How do you win?"
"I win because you are the colour of the wall and you are the colour of my bed sheets and you were the wind that ruffled my hair that I couldn't breathe in and now you are here and I can breathe, for the first time I can breathe and I am so lost but you are here and I love you Augustus, and I am glad I was with you, because you are here now and we can be lost together."
And he smiled, and he looked at her. "You are beautiful, and I love you, but you are hopelessly wrong."
"What?"
"We are not lost. We are cemented. We are a constellation. Do you not see? This is who we were the whole time. There is no fault in our stars, Hazel Grace. And do you know why?"
"No."
"It is because we are the stars."