Inspired by the song by Frank Turner

I remember in the early days, Dominic, when we sat on the roof of your Mum's house with a bottle of cider. It was bitter on our tongues, so much so that you screwed your nose up in an adorable fashion, but we still finished the whole bottle. Lying back on the tiles of the roof, we watched as the sun rose over the horizon, the air warming up with each extra ray. The colours bled into the sky, clouds of rose drifting across the dusky blue morning. The flaming orb bathed us in bright light, bouncing off your golden hair and highlighting all the dips and curves of your body.

I shuffled closer to you, startled when a tile began to shift beneath my feet. I clung to you, eyes wide with fear, your laughter ringing through the otherwise silent morning. You wrapped a strong, tanned arm around me and I nuzzled my head between your neck and your shoulder, feeling the skin there warming my cheek. You took another swig from the bottle, your Adam's apple bobbing as the liquid slid down your throat, and I pressed a kiss to the long column. You ruffled my hair with a lazy smile, your silver eyes falling shut slowly.

I remember it so clearly, Dominic. It was one of the best days of my life. Before the band and the hectic lifestyle that comes with it, before we got caught up in our own lives, before everything went wrong.

Not that I'm saying the band was a bad thing, because you and I both know that we enjoyed it immensely, but I started to forget things that were really important. We grew bigger and bigger, successes pushing us right to the top, an army of fans lusting after our every move. The years passed by and we continued on with our lives, making music and driving our shiny, new cars around LA. I lived for the days we took out of our lives to simply be with each other, curling up together where I could stroke your hair freely. Those were the days when I reminded myself why I loved you and what we were fighting for.

I wish I'd paid more attention to them now, Dominic. We have all the time in the world, all the time until your countdown runs out.

Your hacking cough cuts through the silence in the room and I wince. It's worse than it originally was, worse than what I believed to be a simple cold. You were in bed for a few days, sleeping unless you were interrupted by another lump in your throat. I went about my days busily, playing the piano, buying food, continuing with my lifestyle. You were going to be better in a few days and you'd be up for going out with me again.

Except you weren't.

Your coughing sounded like you were about to throw up every time you opened your mouth, butting in when you wanted to speak and keeping you paralysed in bed. You were so weak that you could barely lift yourself onto your elbows when I brought your dinner. You spent at least half of the day sleeping and I sat by your side the whole time, holding your hand and caressing the skin there. We called a doctor in who sat beside me, taking your temperature and merely observing as you coughed up a lung in front of him. And then he told you and I could see the tears glistening in your eyes.

Oh, no, you don't have a terminal disease, Dominic. You're not going to die, Dominic, not unless you can't remain strong. It won't get to you if you fight against it with all your might, but I know that it's difficult, Dominic, believe me.

I took up permanent residence by your bedside, only leaving to clean myself up or make our dinners. I fed you soup and the tears streaked down your cheeks as you mumbled about how useless you felt. And I stroked your hair, tracing the tracks of the tears and drying your eyes, assuring you that wasn't the case. You were the strongest man I knew, putting up with all of this when the easiest thing to do would be to just sleep it off and forget about it.

We apologised to the fans, cancelling our gigs for an indeterminate amount of time, and they replied with sweet condolences and 'Get Well Soon' messages. You read them all, every single one, with a soft smile, and I was pleased to see the sparkle returning to your eyes.

We spent so much more time together, Dominic. There was a period of time when you grew stronger and the hope that filled me was overflowing, rinsing the others in the glee emanating from my soul. I drove you down to the coastline when you felt up to it, wrapping a thick blanket around your shrunken form and guiding you down to the beach. We could feel the warm sand slipping between our toes, the sun caressing our bare skin as I led you closer to the sea. A picnic mat was laid out, adorned with miniature sandwiches and dainty cakes that I'd seen your mother baking the day before. The grin that spread across you face was breathtaking as you knelt down beside our friends and family, thanking them for doing this.

We spent at least three hours there, surrounded by people we loved, simply enjoying a day out at the beach like any family. You stayed wrapped in the blanket, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared out at the azure ocean, the sun glinting off the surface like a magic spell. You managed to eat a few sandwiches, much to your mother's delight, and I kept my arm around your shoulders the whole time.

Inevitably, your condition grew worse, and you were confined to your bed again for a few weeks. You begged me to join you, and I laid on the mattress beside you, allowing you to gently stroke my face to your heart's desire as the tears tracked down your pale, sunken cheeks. I bit my lip as you smiled sadly at me and I knew immediately what you were thinking. You weren't able to fight anymore.

The disease started to overtake you, and I began to appreciate how much effort it must've taken to make that recovery only a few weeks ago. There were days when you didn't wake up once, and there were other days when your mind refused to let you sleep. My own rest was constantly disturbed by your coughing, and I would always roll over to rub your back and wrap my arms tightly around you until you calmed down.

I don't want this to happen, Dominic. You're so young, so alive and still as beautiful as ever. I love you more than I could ever say.

I brought you up to the roof of our house one night, the pair of us resting precariously on the tiles as we watched the sun rise. It looks different now, the bright colours muted now that I know what the future has in store, but it made you happy, and that's all I care about. You watched the sky and I watched your face, more and more of your flawless skin revealed to me as the sun rose and lit you up. I could see that shining in your eyes, the smile gracing your face, and I managed to kid myself that you were just like you used to be, that you were well and safe.

I'm going to have to let you go someday soon, Dominic, but I'm not ready just yet.