The curl of fingers around the handle of a cup, the cowlick of wet blond hair as it begins to dry, the smell of coffee the morning after was slowly being replaced with the sound of an IV bag being changed, clumps of hair in the trash can, the scent of fresh hospital sheets and sterile gloves. Axel's smile went from a sleepy Saturday smirk to a sympathy saturated one in a series of months, but the ring meant until death do us part.
"What day is it?" The blond croaked, reaching out with a trembling hand to caress his lover's face, "You didn't visit yesterday. Mom said you had to work late, so it's cool, though."
The words felt odd coming from a skeleton with rice paper skin spread taunt over brittle bones. Cool. Work late. He felt like this scene was only something lived in the Dark Ages, but now for him, these were dark ages, "Yeah, gotta make that butter stretch if you know what I mean." Bills were stacking up, and the insurance company was pulling back soon. They were capping out. "I have to make sure there's something left when you come home."
Roxas coughed a long, soul shattering cough. His eyes shined 'let's be honest', "Of course."
The sob caught itself in his throat and ripped free painfully, "You'll be better soon." He choked out, "You have to be!"
Axel is held in what feels like a child's arms for far too long while being comforted. Roxas is almost twenty-one. Life will change. He'll be an adult adult. His back is rubbed as he's clutched to a boney chest with coat hanger ribs, "Shh, shhh. All will be well." The blond tells him lullaby stories of future escapades.
It's just enough to get him to leave for the night.
And the next night.
And the next night.
"I brought you a jigsaw puzzle." He smiles hollow as his helpless heart, "I don't think you've done this one yet."
Roxas laughs, and coughs, and then speaks slowly, "Let's not do a puzzle. Come here." The blond beckons.
It's not often that he's invited to touch the other, and it's less often that a nurse would allow it.
But they all know what's coming.
Death stands at Roxas' hospital door.
Two weeks later, a soul slips free, and the redhead cries and screams and clutches at bed sheets praying for human life to return to the man he loves- loved- He's gone.
Cursing for what seems like hours, the redhead goes home to lay on their- his- kitchen floor to sleep. He calls in sick to work to take a well-deserved day off. Axel spends 600 minutes pressed to the floor, clawing at the ground in which Roxas will soon lay. "Give him back!" He screams, "Please!"
The redhead decides a life without Roxas is a life not worth living.
And when Death comes for him, he laughs like a wild man.
Because at least now, Axel and Roxas are together. Not even Death can keep them apart.
Short story for Capturing Jealousy. Read and Review. No Beta.