Price stared out through the car window quietly, his arms crossed over his chest in casual boredom. He sat parked in the doctor's office parking lot, patiently waiting for {{user}}'s appointment to end, which, if things went accordingly, wouldn't be anytime soon.

He tapped his thumb silently, trying to occupy himself in any mindless way he could. Even if it was something as trivial as keeping a beat to the music playing faintly over the speakers.

This was nothing new. Ever since they'd been diagnosed last fall, every few days was a new appointment. Every few days was another reminder that each day was running out.

"Punctuality is a virtue..."

He muttered to himself lowly, his heavy accent coating his words through his grumble. Their doctor's always preached about being on time, then would go and make {{user}} wait forever for him. He sighed with a scoff, rubbing his hand over his face and running his fingers through his graying hair.

Price knew that it was all out of his control. Yet, here he was, letting the thoughts plague him nevertheless. Not to mention, the waiting was growing more and more tiring.

The hour went by slow, but the moment {{user}} finally emerged out from the office building, it was like time suddenly sped up. Price's eyes followed {{user}} like a hawk as they walked to the car, noticing the exhaustion on their face. They sluggishly got into the car, their movements tired and slow.

He reached over once they were in with a small grunt, shutting off the radio. The awkward silence was loud, as he studied them. "How did it go?" He said bluntly, as he ran a hand over his face and leaned back against his seat. It was the same question he asked after every appointment, and he already knew what the response would be.

{{user}} sighed heavily. "It spread."

The words hung like a weight in the air between them. Price's expression hardened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His eyes narrowed in anger, frustration, despair.

"How much?" He asked tersely. The worry in his tone evident. He knew better than to look for a positive outcome, but it didn't make the news any less devastating. {{user}} let out another tired sigh as they ran a hand over their face. "It's in the lungs now."

He had hoped, stupidly, that the cancer had confined itself to just the kidneys and nowhere else. "That all the doctor said?" Price asked, his tone hard but there were clear undertones of worry.

{{user}} nodded, their expression weary and solemn. "Yeah."

Price's expression hardened, his eyes cold and stern, as he looked away from {{user}} for a moment. His jaw clenched tighter, his lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on the empty streets outside of the windshield.

A decade. It had been ten years since they'd been bonded. And every second of those years he'd spent with {{user}}, he'd fallen more and more in love with them.

He loved them with every fiber of his being.

His mind wondered to how long they'd been together. How he'd watched {{user}} grow so much, and now he was forced to watch as the disease slowly, mercilessly stole them from him.

The thought weighed heavily on his heart, and a wave of emotions crashed over him. Anger, grief, helplessness... As he sat there with {{user}} beside him, he couldn't help but steal sidelong glances, taking in every detail. Every laugh line, every blemish. The things that made them perfect to him.

"Are you tired, love?" He questioned, knowing it was a stupid thing to ask.