The worst part is having to be cordial. You have to sit there and smile while he gives you the worst news of your life. Nod and agree while he explains how happy he is. How they tried so hard to help you. How, while he loves you, you're just not the one for him. That no matter how hard you tried to prevent it the cancer had returned. You were dying again.
You're first experience with the cancer left you sobbing on Tavros's couch. How could you be dying? How could he not love you? You had seen all the signs, the flirting. What had those meant? Sure, you smoked, but you weren't that unhealthy. How could you be so unlucky? Tavros wraps his arms around you whispering sweet words of courage and praise. You can't help but imagine that he's Karkat. That maybe he was wrong to think he was in love with this other person. That he was stupid to not see what a wonderful person was right there all the time. That you were that person. But he wasn't there. And as your lips crash with Tavros and you pretend you have some sort of feelings for him, you still can't help but imagine Karkat's the boy underneath you, the boy calling your name, the boy wrapped around your midsection the next morning.
You peel yourself from the bed attempting not the wake Tavros as the guilt in your stomach just like the tumor in your brain grows. You leave his home without a word and he says nothing about that evening. And like always, he's there for you a small smile. He's there to hear you gush over Karkat's sloppy breakup that lead to just a little bit of sloppy make outs. There to hear you plan your next attempt to get Karkat as you own. There to hear you beam with the good news that you're in remission. It's a motherfucking miracle.
Not only will Karkat be yours. Not only will he love you forever. But you're healthy. You've got a long life ahead of you. And with Karkat by your side it would be good. But things never stay good for you do they? But it pours when it rains doesn't it? And he's love sick again and you're, you are dying again.
The scariest part is watching your body decompose before your eyes. You'd trusted this body. You'd never imagine it would go out on you. You'd never imagine that you're heart could break that hard again. Karkat beams up at you gushing about how his news is more important than yours. How hes finally found the one. And he's so happy you can't bring yourself to tell him the cancers back. So you grin real wide and hug the boy close taking in his smell wondering how long you'd be able to do this. How long you'd be on this earth.
He leaves, a happy jump in his step, and you find yourself back in Tavros's arms. You know you're using him but you're desperate and he never seems bothered by it. You know you feel bad about it all. But you leave the next morning before he wakes, the guilt growing larger by the minute, and he says nothing about that heated night when you meet later that week for dinner. And he lets you complain about Karkat. Lets you whine about your love life. Cry about the doctor's current prediction of how long you have left. And he holds you again that soft smile on his lips as he whispers all the things you need to hear. But he's still not Karkat. He's still not the one you want. And you're still dying.
You think to yourself that third times a charm. You think you'll beat this disease. You'll beat his new boyfriend. And you'll be happy again. You sit impatiently in the examination room praying the word "remission" will tumble from the grey-haired doctor's mouth again. That Karkat will call you sobbing over this new man who crushed his heart. But when the doctor walks in there is a look of dread on his face. He shakes his head holding the charts limply by his side. "Mr. Makara, the tests came back and we were wrong, it's turmoil." Your phone buzzes and Karkat's name blinks up on the screen. "WE'RE GETTING MARRIED".
You stutter out a question of how long you've got. "With chemo a year. Without a little over four months is our best estimate." You shake your head. You're not going through chemo just to live another six months. Especially without Karkat. With shaking hand you type out words of congratulations. He wants you to be his best man.
He sits by your death bed but the ring on his finger makes you wish the hearse would come sooner. You're in pain, hooked up to so many machines you wonder if you're really a robot, his hand grasping yours that golden band pressing cold against your dying flesh. There are tears in his eyes that you want to wipe away but can't muster the strength to move your body those couple of inches to reach him. Tavros stands behind Karkat holding his knuckles to mouth to stifle back any crying. You keep your eyes on Karkat as you pass away. The cancer having finally killed you.
a/n; this one's real title is "holly tries to write an extended metaphor of how love is like cancer and karat's symbol is cancer and fuck this is so bad i'm sorry god."