"Do you want to look at the stars with me?"

The question was foolishly blurted out from Elias' lips in a jumbled, uncoordinated, sincere mess; the product of the ache in his chest from the sight of you after yet another surgery.

He had known from the very beginning that there was no saving you from death, not with the severity of your terminal illness. Time was a luxury neither of your could afford, but Elias was a good thief. For you, he would steal Time and all of the stars in the sky.