John's POV

Two-shot! (Exactly one hundred words, I squeezed in as many as possible) (will try to finish later)

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John looks down at me, his expression pained. "Alex," he says, "how? How do you write like this? Like we're running out of time? Because, surely, if we are, then you'd want to spend more time with me than with a pen..." He shakes his head, and his curls wobble. I reach up and steady them, straining to get my arm that far back.

"We'll never know if we are until it's too late," I say sadly, a melancholic smile on my face. "And if we waste our precious time, we can't make differences."

"Make them in my life, then."