Author's Note: This is a very quick, very whimsical fanfiction that is obviously inspired by (and based on) concepts explored in TheFault In Our Stars. It's only a snippet, because that's all I had muse to write, but tell me in the reviews if I should write more.
Plus obviously TFIOS was written by the His Vlogness, John Green the Amazing, may he live forever
The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable, but I hate that it's there. Like every passing second of non-communication is making the wall of glass thicker, and taking her further away.
"Read to me." Even through the glass her eyes are bright, too bright to refuse. So I take out our book, and I read to her.
At first I fall over myself, going back over a sentence if I miss a word and getting flustered at each page turning. Then I just let go, and go to that place in between seconds, where there's no glass, no hospital, no anything except her and me and the words flowing from the page out of my mouth and to her waiting eardrums. I forget we're in a closed ward where silence reigns supreme, and kind of act out the funny parts to make her laugh. Her laugh is weaker and thinner than that first time on the train, but it still sounds like bells mixed with a foghorn, the laugh I fell for. Eventually we come to the Part, desperately sad and painfully beautiful. My voice slows and softens, and when it's over, I lean my forehead against the glass so my tears slip down like rain on a car window.
"I always cry at the end."
"Me too." Her voice is thick. We just stay there, me standing, her lying in the hospital bed, both of us reveling in the sheer unadulterated gorgeous tragedy that is The Fault In Our Stars.
"I hate this." I look up in surprise, and she's looking at me, her tear filled and despairing. "I hate being here and you're over there behind that damned slab of glass. I hate that you have to stand there in the corridor and read to me through a cell phone. I hate that anything that comes within three metres of me has to be sterilized within an inch of its life. I hate it I hate it I hate this …" Her voice is way past breaking. "I just want to get out of here, James," she whispers. "I just want to die already."
I have nothing to say to that. She closes her eyes and leans back against her freakishly white pillows. She brings her cell phone up to her face.
"I just want to touch you. I want to go back to the park. I want to lie on the grass with my head on your crossed legs and take turns reading and sip flat lemonade. I want you to come in here and hug me and tell me it'll be okay."
"It'll be okay," I repeat numbly.
"That's not the point!" she yells, or rather raises her voice as much as she can. "Conversations over the phone between two great lovers separated by a wall of spirit-crushing glass are not the same as conversations shared in a moonlit park at midnight with flat lemonade and Mars bar cake."
I try a different tactic. "If you die, we won't be able to go back to the moonlit park."
She smiles dryly through cracked lips. "I'm not going back to the park, James. And anyway." She opens her eyes finally, something different making them shine. "I can still love you in heaven. Or hell. Wherever I end up."
Author's Note: Told you it was short. So review, favourite, follow, all the good stuff, and tell me if I should write more!
Also, suggest names for 'her'! James was pretty obvious to me but I'm having a hard time coming up with a suitable name for this lovely philosophical female