(Lavi's POV)
I wanna hold your hand.
You're growing a little thinner, a little paler, a little more wearier with each passing day but you're still here.
Still here grumbling at me.
Still here smiling at me.
Still here right next to me.
And that alone makes me tear and swear and bear the sting of reality. It sobers me worse than a hangover, it kicks my ass to fucking man up so when the spot beside me in bed is cold and no one's emptying the fridge nearly every hour, I won't crack. Much hopefully.
If I held onto your hand hard enough, would you still remain stuck by my side?
Would you still stay, beansprout?
(A/N: The previous chapter was in Allen's POV btw)