Your name is Gamzee Makara, and the boy you fell in love with is going to die.

It hurts. It hurts so much.
It hurts how you'll never get the courage to tell him how you feel. And it hurts that no matter how much you love him, all you can do is watch him reduce into nothing but a shell. The light in his eyes are merely a spark, now.

You sit with him in that hospital room. It's private; his father made sure of that. That man sleeps in the room assigned for members of terminally ill patients' families. You can imagine his dreams are eventless, forced by medication and the sheer lack of will to see his beloved son degenerate in this way.

You sit at the edge of the bed where the boy you adore lay, silently holding his hand and forcing the silent tears to stay within your eyes. He denied the treatment. It didn't have much of a chance of success anyway, the doctor said that it was 'purely experimental'.
He squeezes your hand and grins weakly.

Strong little bastard. He never wanted to look weak.

"I'm sorry, Gamzee." He he whispers, rubbing a thumb over your hands slightly, tickling the flesh.

"What for, bro?" You reply. The smile on your face is shallow and empty. A reflection of your soul, you decide in passing. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"For being...this. For having, so much money spent on me only to, uhh... Have it amount to nothing?" He still had the stammer and weird speech pattern he always did. And now he looked as fragile and breakable on the outside as on the inside. It hurts you so much to hear how he feels.

"Tavbro. Don't ever say that. We did this because we love you. I love-.." You stop yourself short.

Are you even sure about this?
How do you know it will be alright?
What if it doesn't? What then?
Do you want his last moments to be filled with disgust and disdain over you and your feelings?

Tavbro isn't a judgemental guy, but...

"Uh, I mean-" You begin, stammering uncharacteristically.

No. Forget about what I said. Do it.

You inhale and exhale gently, focusing your indigo eyes on his brown ones.

Do it.

"I fucking love you, Tavbro." You smile pathetically. His face becomes blank, his eyes staring and his lips parted slightly. As if he wanted to say something, but didn't know how.

You stare at him. Despite his pale skin and ghostly appearance, and the bags under his eyes from countless nights tossing and turning, and crying into your shoulder, you think he's beautiful. And you can't help but close the ten inch distance between your faces and kiss him chastely. His eyes fly open wide; and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin as you put a hand on his cheek, pressing your other hand on the bed beside him, leaning closer to get more leverage. He is unresponsive.

Does he not... Want this?

You pull away from the smaller boy, sitting up and looking ashamed. "I'm so fucking sorry.'' It was your turn to apologize, apparently.

Tavros said nothing, but worked on chewing his lip, the pink blush evident on his sickly skin.

"I just really wanted to say to you how I all up and motherfucking feel, you know?" You continue, placing your hand onto his. He doesn't flinch or snatch his hand away. Is that a good sign? Bad?

"But if you want me to leave, that's cool." You sigh. When you hear nothing, you fight the tears again.
Fantastic.
You look at the clock. 11:52 p.m.
In any other case you would stay here overnight, watching over Tavros. But this wasn't any other night.

You turn to tell him that you're leaving and suddenly your mouth is encompassed by surprisingly warm lips, icy cold hands palming the back of your neck. You pull away again, the look of surprise plastered on your face. Tavros kneels close to you, his hand still up by your neck, however now hovering just close enough that you can feel the skin of the nape of your neck prickle with goosebumps.

"M-me too." He mumbles. You beam like a kid on Christmas and you lean to kiss him again, deeper this time. He's getting into it this time, his hands running through your tangled raven hair. An eager tongue flicks at your lip, and you open your mouth to accommodate his tongue and yours. They meet and fight, wanting control. As you break for air you press your forehead to his and you grin, more reserved now. The boy you love mumbles something with a feeling of content, something along the lines of "...always have...adore...perfect..."

You kiss some more, holding each other and nuzzling each other.
As you hold him in your arms, you whisper in his ear.
"I will love you until the earth ends, Tav."

He smiles a little, weakly. "I'll love you past the day I die."
You say nothing and you kiss his Mohawk, breathing in his powdery scent.

You hope that there is a long while before that happens.


He died on a Saturday. Ten days after you told him how you felt. Your body feels numb. You don't know how many tears you've already cried.

He slipped away during the night.

You see the light in his eyes die as his grip on your hand lessens, and you press the button alerting a nurse on the wall repeatedly, squeezing his hand, trying to pull him back.
He smiles at you, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"I love you, Gamzee." He whispers, before the nurse pushes past, ordering you to go outside. As you are pushed out of the room protesting, his father pushes past, shouting for his son. The man's eyes are desperate. You step aside. He needs his son more than you do.

The door is shut and you lean against it, sobbing as a nurse gently rubs your back.

"There's nothing you could have done, sweetheart." She coos gently, as your sobbing frame leans against hers.

"I love him...I don't want him to go..." You whisper, tears streaking your face.

But it's too late.
You know you couldn't do anything, and you know he died without anything to regret, but still your heart aches and your body feels empty without your love there.

It hurts. It hurts so much.