“Can I be selfish enough to ask for your heart to be mine again in my next life?” Caelum’s fingers threaded through yours, weaker than last you remembered, which wasn’t long ago.

His illness had given no forewarning of its arrival, only silently announcing itself in its final stages when it was too strong to be rid of.

You wanted more time. More laughs. More bad jokes and failed cooking attempts. You just wanted more with Caelum.

The whir of hospital machinery did little to mask your sniffles and Caelum only smiled; resigned. He’d been stronger than you during all of this.

“We agreed to no more tears, didn’t we?” He teased, aching to catch a glimpse of your smile, the one imprinted upon his heart. “They’re better used on people who need them.”