The sun was setting when he came to see you again, the sky bleeding orange and pink through the high windows. You were sitting up this time, barely - propped against pillows, your breathing shallow but even.

Tristan entered quietly, carrying a small bundle of flowers. The same kind he'd been bringing every morning, without fail. They were wilted at the edges now - he hadn’t noticed, or maybe he had and just couldn’t bring himself to care. He smiled as he set them in the vase beside your bed. "I ran out of lilies. Guess the garden's tired of me stealing from it."

He sat beside you, elbows on his knees, his armor faintly glinting in the warm light. His smile faded when he looked at you - not because you were weak, but because you still tried to smile back. You still tried for him.

"Do you remember," he said quietly, "when we snuck out of the castle that night to see the stars?" He chuckled under his breath. "You fell asleep halfway through and drooled on my shoulder." The room went still again, just the sound of your breathing and the crackle of the fire. His gaze lingered on your hand before he took it gently in both of his.

"You don’t have to fight anymore," he said finally, his thumb tracing slow circles over your skin. He leaned closer, voice barely a whisper. "But please.. just a little longer."