Damien sat himself upon his husband's lap, looking at him. "Hiya" He smiled, taking a bite of the banana that he held. "Hey" Brave responded, staring at Damien. "How're you?" He asked, a child like grin displayed on his face. "Good, you?" This was the usual small talk, Damien asking questions, Brave responding. After a while it would get old and they would most likely end up nude, their bodies drenched in sweat, the smell of sex lingering in the room. Atlas, today was different, the talk continued and neither one made any advances towards the other. The conversation lasted for a while, until Damien stood from his husband's lap, stumbling back as if intoxication had come over himself. It took the brunette a moment, but he straightened himself out, and groggily gave Brave a lopsided grin. "I'm tired, can we go to bed?" he asked, exhaustion sweeping over his body like a hurricane. "Did you take anything other than Advil earlier?" Brave asked, and Damien truthfully answered by shaking his head. "Why'd you take Advil?" The feeling of displeasure washing over him. "My side hurt, can we go to bed now? I'm exhausted" Damien pleaded, barely able to keep his eyes open. "Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll meet you there," Damien frowned at the answer, but his fatigue seemed to be stronger than his will to argue, so he sighed, "Fine…" with that, the brunette walked to the bedroom, leaving Brave alone.
That night, Brave had searched symptoms, treatments, and diseases, prying to know what was wrong with his spouse. He stayed up into all hours of the night, the only light shown in the room being the blue light projected from his phone. He awoke, finding himself in a fairly uncomfortable position on the couch, his phone close to dead, the salmon colored sky daring to show through the curtained windows. "Shit…" he mumbled to himself, he had forgotten to sleep with Damien that night, and he knew the older man would not be happy about their separation. It took Brave a moment, fixing his hair and adjusting his clothes, but he made his way to the bedroom, watching the unmoving bed. He waited a few moments, before stepping forward to realize the bed was frozen. A feeling of uneasiness crept over him, he pulled the covers down, seeing the familiar shade of fluffy, auburn hair. In that moments, it appeared to him that Damien wasn't breathing, his breath hitched at the sight. He touched his shoulder, shaking him gently, something that had been foreign to him as he never wanted to deserve his significant other. "Hey Damien…" In return, there was no response, Damien's body giving no sign of life. He repeatedly called out his name, though his subconscious had long before realized that Damien Gallagher was dead.
