Francis had a happy smile on his face as he came out of the office. He approached the Brit who stood up hoping for nothing more than the best. Francis with a cheerful demeanor, gave the result of what he was given.

"The doctor said that on the outside I was fine, but he would call back for when the blood tests came in. We can go home for now".

Taking his partner by the shoulder, they walked home together, but Arthur couldn't help, but think something was wrong and Francis wasn't telling him just so he wouldn't fret. He decided to take naivety and not push to far on the subject, just enjoying the moment with the man he loved.

A fairly cold day at the end of summer was when Francis received the phone call for the blood tests. Arthur had been down in the kitchen baking a cake for hopefully what would be a good response. Francis' family had a long line of illness in his family, such as cancer (the hereditary ones such as heart, colon and breast which affected 1% of males) as well as heart disease. It didn't make Arthur feel any better, but with a small smile on his face, he continued on with what he was doing. But not entirely.

Picking up the phone, Francis greeted the doctor humbly, but the reserved tone in his voice made himself feel worried and sick at the pit of his stomach. His voice was cold he he relaid the results of the test to the Frenchman, and he felt himself grow weak.

He could hear the small gasp that was let out from the other side of the phone. Arthur, who had been curious, picked up the phone and started listening to the call. He heard Francis sigh as he asked when he would come in for the operation which he knew was to come with such a disease. The response was for next Monday he would have to come in for an operation.

Arthur hung up the phone, putting it back where it belonged and quickly returning to baking the cake. Francis came down the stairs, hand on his head as he looked at his lover trying to act as casual as possible. Francis knew though.

"Mon ange, I know you… overheard the conversation… I-", he started off, but the blond Brit cut him off.

"I made a cake for you, for when you got the good news…" he placed the cake with the happy faces that he had scribbled on. It was him and Arthur, smiling happily with 'Hooray for not being sick!' written in big letters all over it, "I'm sorry though-" Francis cut Arthur off this time around.

"How about we ate the cake? I'm sick, but I'm not dying? That must count for something?" He said happily as he pulled out a knife and started cutting out the cake.

Arthur glared at him, no freaking out? No panicking? Just wanting to celebrate? He held back tears as he clenched his jaw. This was the Francis he knew, making the best of the worst situation. Francis looked up, placed the knife aside and walked over to Arthur, taking him into a hug, whispering softly into his ear as well as waltzing back and forth between his feet, slowly, trying to calm down the one who had not been the receiver of the bad news.

"Everything is fine, alright? I'll go in on Monday, have the operation and be back to properly celebrate. We can dance to that old song we used to listen together so long ago? You know that one from the movie?"

Arthur nodded his head into Francis' shoulder as he let himself be lead by Francis' soothing movements. Everything would be fine, should be fine.

Monday came by sooner than expected for Arthur than he expected. Pulling himself out of bed, he got himself ready for the long day ahead. This time around he drove Francis to the hospital, parking his car he made his way up to the waiting area with Francis, and watched him part with the doctors, the last time he would see him before the operation would finish.

About an hour or so later, a doctor called him out and to the room Francis was staying in, he was still under anesthetic and they would have to wait a bit before he would wake up. Arthur felt his stomach drop for a bit. The doctor didn't say the operation had gone well. He didn't say it was a success and that he was fine and free to leave in a day or so. He just said nothing.

When Francis woke up, he was surprised it didn't take so long and that it must have been something so simple and small to be done so quickly. The doctor coughed, catching both of their attention. He explained what exactly had happened, they opened him up and the cancer had spread so much that it had reached his lungs and there was nothing they could do about it. They closed him up.

Arthur felt his heart rate drop as Francis clutched his hand tightly.

"How long?" he asked, looking the doctor dead in the eyes. The doctor turned his head away and than faced the couple again. It took him a bit to spit out his response.

"2 months, at best."

He soon left afterwards, leaving the couple to themselves.

Francis knew Arthur's anxiety was rising at a steady pace, it couldn't end like this? It was too soon to be true. Francis gripped onto Arthur's hand tightly, not letting go of him.

"I'm still here, everything will be alright" he whispered, Arthur would have retorted, but he only shook his head. He was too frazzled by the news to even think clearly.

A few weeks had passed and Arthur found himself in their living room together, Francis leaning out his hand for Arthur. The song he had adored so much playing soothingly on repeat in the background. A smile across his face, Arthur was hesitant to take it. He reached out to it and slowly started waltzing with Francis around the living room, head on his shoulder. He had been in a slump since the news from so many weeks ago. It had felt like only seconds to him.

"Cheer up mon ange, for this may well be the last time we dance…" mumbled out Francis as Arthur looked up angrily to him, retorting with a 'This better not be the last'. Francis only laughed at his lover's short temper, but he only frowned. This was not the time to be saying things like that!

He felt Francis' breath on his shoulder as he leaned in to peck him on the check. He felt himself grow hotter, but smiled. Enjoy the moment you idiot, this may very well be the last. That thought was soon forgotten as they slowly danced the night away to the slow moving song. Forgetting about time and only caring for one another.

Francis only wanted Arthur to be happy in his last moments.

The next day he had passed away, the cancer cells eating away at his interior system.

Arthur found him smiling peacefully next to him.

He didn't know when he started crying, or when he started shaking and yelling at Francis to wake up. It felt like hours before someone came to check on them to find Arthur desperately calling out to Francis, asking him to wake up, telling him that they still had so many things to do together.

The funeral was held one month later, and only those close to Francis attended.

It wasn't a rainy day, nor a sunny one to say, just passing clouds and the sounds of birds chirping kept him company as he was the last at the tombstone.

He didn't hold back his tears, but he didn't have any to cry.

Kneeling down, he placed a red rose close to the stone, which was engraved '

Francis Bonnefoy

xx-xx

A man as pure as gold, as warm as the sun and

as temperamental as the ocean'

He keeled there quietly, remembering the night they had spent together. He felt tears in his eyes, but they were nothing more than phantoms. He could cry no more. He mumbled to himself ' why did you leave me so soon'.

Leaving the rose there, he walked away, on looking back to glance at the stone, and thought he had caught a glimpse of his beloved, holding the rose he had placed at his grave, a bright smile on his face, telling him to be strong and not cry.

Arthur thought to himself, only a delusional fool would believe to have seen their deceased loved one at their final resting place. But deep down, he believe Francis' ghost was real, and that he would be there to rest forever, and be there when he was needed.

I am nothing more than a morning fool.