WARNINGS: Character death.

A/N: Inspired by the song Samson by Regina Spektor. Written for a challenge set by Aerileigh at the DG Forum. Enjoy!

The Last Days

His hand was in mine, limp and motionless. His sunken eyes were closed and his face looked haunted with past mistakes, troubles and fears. I wanted to kiss away the dread that consumed him when he woke, that invaded his dreams when he slept. His hair was shorter than the first time I saw him. It lacked the purity of times gone past; it was now grey and dead. I promised myself I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't let this break me. I loved him first and I wouldn't let him see me break.

His eyes slid open, revealing bloodshot eyes with a black iris situated in the middle. His lips curled into a weak smile, the hint of his old personality flitting across his dull face.

"Hi," I whispered, stroking hair out of his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Shit." He answered simply and I couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle. "M'hungry, though." His mumble was barely audible and as I crawled out of bed and shuffled across the room I heard a hacking cough escape his throat. My heart broke all over again.

In the kitchen I tried to block out the sound of his illness, the feeling of death that loomed over the house, ready to swoop down in one fell movement and rip him from my arms. I gripped onto the bench, feeling overwhelmed with this horror. My breath came out in short bursts as I tried to regain composure. I promised myself I wouldn't let this break me. I loved him first and I wouldn't let him see me break.

When I composed myself, I cut a piece of tomato bread, baked fresh that morning. He called it my "Wonderbread". I fed it to him at a slow pace, waiting patiently for him to swallow, waiting patiently for him to become strong enough to take another bite.

I hated seeing him this way, so ill, so fragile. I wanted things to go back to normal. I wanted this disease to disappear and for us to fight about nothing again. For me to snap at him and he drawl back an arrogant response. But those days were over; no one would remember us like that. They would only remember the last days. These last days.

"I want you to cut my hair." He croaked once he had eaten his fill. He pushed himself up slightly and stared into my eyes, blinking slowly.

"No," I shook my head and ran my hand through his dry hair. "I like your hair."

"Please," He said. "For me."

I gave in. The blunt scissors rested on my lap as I wrapped a towel around his shoulders in the soft, yellow light of his candle. It flickered across his features, and my stomach curled at the sight, he looked like death. With shaking hands I began to cut. I cut until he told me to stop. It looked awful but he said I had done alright.

I knew he was lying.

Turning around, he placed his lips gently against mine, running his hands through my messy hair. "I love your red hair," He whispered against my lips. "You look so beautiful." I shook my head, trying to remove the tears that threatened to fall. I loved him first and I wouldn't let him see me break. Not this time.

"You need to sleep." I told him and he nodded, curling up under the covers. I curled up next to him, snaking my arms around his bony chest.

"I've always loved you." He whispered tiredly. His breath was shaky and as he drifted off to sleep I hoped I would wake tomorrow and this would all be a dream.

"I loved you first." I whispered back. I heard him sigh as I closed my eyes.

After a while I realised he was still. The disease had taken him. And that night I broke my promise. I let myself break. I let the tears consume my body and nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck. Hacking sobs were ripped from my chest and when the morning light filtered through my window I realised it was time to go. I had to go.

The last days were the worst. He was my sweetest downfall, I loved him first.

A/N: I don't know what to make of what I wrote. I just went with it. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

~Porsha