AN: This was written as my essay for final exam from Slovak language few days ago. It had to be a story-telling, with the theme: "I left even though I shouldn't have." I wrote a Stenny fanfic one-shot on the finals. Go me~
Fandom: South Park
Warnings: includes shonen-ai, boy love, gays, call it whatever you want.
Pairing: Stenny (StanxKenny)
Sorry, it's not beta-ed yet, but I tried my best and I'll edit it when I'll get the beta-ed version.
These four walls of this hospital room have been my home for almost two weeks. Even after they diagnosed my leukemia, my condition has never been that bad that I had to leave my home for more than one night. This is the first time, and my condition isn't getting any better, anyways.
I hate the lonely nights here. It feels so cold to fall asleep alone in this bed, without him beside me. He, of course, can't stay here overnights, but he comes everyday for a long visit. Today won't be any different.. I look up at the clock hanged on the wall above doorframe and I know the visiting-hours already began. My Stan comes in any minute.
In no time, I hear weak knocks on the door and I don't even need to respond and he walks in. From the place where I lay I can see his red cheeks, wet from tears. He's crying, and I don't know why. Stan cries very rarely. We both don't cry much, we are men after all, we are supposed not to cry. But these things just happen, I know. Sometimes the certain situation is too much. But seeing Stan cry is too much for me anyways. It makes me confused and worried.
"Hi," he says quietly, taking off his red puff-ball hat, looking into the ground.
"Hey," I greed him back. I try to smile, but it's hard, it sure looks weak. It's difficult to smile when my Stan is crying. I would smile because I want to show him that I'm glad he came to see me, but I can't smile at the same time because I see his hurt expression.
"I talked to the doctor..." He says, looking anywhere but at me. He hasn't come closer to my bed, but has stood leaned against the closed door.
He doesn't believe anymore, either. I can feel it.
"And...?" I ask and start coughing loudly. I don't feel well today. I can hardly breath and my whole body hurts.
It takes him several second to respond with a blank look, then his loud sobs fill the room.
"You're dying!" he says suddenly, new fresh tears trickling down his cheeks.
"I know." I say, smile remaining on my face. I knew it.
Stan comes near me and ruffles my blond hair a bit, a smile appearing on his face. His smile is one of the best cures ever. Chemotherapy sucks ass, Stan's smile always saved the day, when I was feeling the worst. He's more crying than smiling, anyways, but Stan is good at multitasking, so he can manage both perfectly at the same time. He sits down beside me, his lower lip starts to tremble, his chin and eyebrows are knitting.
"You know, I got used to this." I can hear his voice trembeling. "I got used to you, to our relationship and common life. I got used to all the beautiful and also the terrible things that always happen to us. I got used even to your disease, which is not easy for you nor me." He made a pause which I was afraid to fill in, so after few seconds he continued: "I can't... I don't know what I will do!" He exclaimed and started crying hysterically. "I can't imagine..., I don't want to imagine living my life without you! That won't be a life anymore!" At this point I couldn't understand his words clearly, because of his broken voice. "The loneliness, our empty flat! I don't want to fall asleep without cuddling to you, I don't wanna wake up without you beside me. It's felt like hell these past two weeks, but I at least knew I'd see you in the afternoon." He calmed down a bit, smiled kindly and stroke my cheek with one of his warm palms. A frown appears on his face immediately. "I've been even to that damn church and prayed to God to give you strength. You know I don't go there much since fourth grade. But I did this time. I sat there and was praying to someone I don't even believe in. Maybe I just wanted to get rid off the weight from my shoulders, just for a while. Fuck..." he added quietly and took my left palm into his. I can spot his tears now falling off his cheeks onto my hand placed near him. "Kenny, I sure will die if you die. At least a big part of my inside will. I'm afraid I'm going to lose you too soon for my liking." He kissed me on my forehead, his tears wetting it. "I love you," he whispered, smiling against my forehead, my blond wisps tickling his face.
Only now I strat realizing consequences of my action, better said - non action. I never wanted this. If I die today, it'll be my fault. Of course I didn't cause leukemia myself, but I was the one who stopped fighting. Ever since I got diagnosed leukemia, I only miss him. I miss the happy face of my boyfriend, the carefree life we had before. I could see only his worried eyes full of sorrow, whenever he saw me in pain.
I never wanted this. And when I got to the imaginary edge of this disease, where I kinda had a choice whether to fight it or give up, I made a choice myself. I never meant any bad for him. I was thinking of him when I made the choice to end it, when I decided to give up. I meant only good. He would be a young, attractive widow in his twenties, without the weight of this damned illness on his shoulders. I just wanted to set him free.
Now I know, making this decision on my own was the biggest mistake of my life. I should have discussed it with him first. It influences him a lot, after all.. We share more than a flat, we share a life, we share love, feelings! We fucking live together! How could I not talk about it with him first? Just how stupid can I be? And now it's too late.
I miss him, even though he's sitting beside me.
I would love to hold him right now. But I'm too weak to sit up. I hardly manage to stretch my arm toward him, but it falls back onto the bed beside me immediately. My eyes are closing on their own, but I try to keep them open to see him. They hurt me. I can see him bending over me and hugging me tightly. I'm slowly losing it. I can feel his warm tears on my cold cheeks. I take in his smell for the last time.
With a kiss from him on my cheek, my eyes are closing for the last time. My time has come and no one even asked if I want to go. And I even missed my chance to say good-bye to my lover. I know this death is the last one.
Now I know I shouldn't have left like this. I should have kept fighting till the end, for him. I should have stayed at least as long as he would.
AN: Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it, and I hope the committee which correct the exam essays will consider it at least okay.
Please, review, they make me very happy 8D.