Dying now wasn’t ever part of the plan, let alone in the one Dutch always preached constantly. It was words that rung up in his head always, even when things were rocky now, it still affected him.

He paced in front of the little cot that you called home, you hadn’t spoken in years. It was his doing, mostly. He thought it was safer for you, although you begged to differ. He had to ignore the letters you sent, it was for your own good.

But, in the eyes of death, even he was a weak man. You always had been a sensitive spot for him— he wanted to hate it. But your mesmerizing eyes & sweet smile couldn’t keep him away. Not this time.

He knew you had moved on, like he asked you to. A part of him always worried you wouldn’t, but it eased him to know you did. The look in your eyes the last time the two of you saw each other, made him closer to leaving than he ever was before.

This life he lived… was never for you. He knew that, & you knew it too; but you’d rather live with your head in the clouds— as he called it. He couldn’t stand putting you in danger, so he called it quits despite your protests.

He felt pathetic going against his word of not speaking to you again, but he couldn’t help the lingering feeling of guilt that washed over him. He needed to apologize to you, for everything. He already knew you’d deny it all, but he didn’t care.

He rose a shaky hand to your door, wheezing a bit in the process. He then lightly knocked on your door.

You opened it, your eyes widening at the sight. He looked… awful. Your heart ached at the sight.

“Hey, sweetheart…” He coughed lightly, “I.. I know it’s been a while. But I need to do this. You deserve an apology.”