It was mid-day, around four-thirty. Marvin had been so stressed and overwhelmed with everything, he only found out about Whizzer having AIDS so suddenly. It was scary, knowing that Whizzer, his lover, would be passing away soon. Marvin was still in denial.

No matter how hard Marvin tried, he still couldn't help but feel a wash of anxiety and dread whenever he entered Whizzer's hospital room. Marvin visited him whenever he could, he didn't want Whizzer to be alone in the hospital when he died, that was the only thing Whizzer had told Marvin that he wanted; he didn't want to die alone.

Marvin had set up flowers on Whizzers bedside table, he always liked to bring Whizzer gifts to try cheer him up, but nothing could wash out that sense of worry and paranoia from that hospital room.

Marvin walked into Whizzer's hospital room with a fake smile on his face. It was hard going through the visits, watching Whizzer get worse and worse over time. He gently shut the door behind him. He was wearing a grey, zip-up hoodie with a white shirt underneath it and some grey sweatpants.

And then he felt it. That eerie, cold, chill. That silent, deadly reminder that his boyfriend was dying. He studied Whizzer's sickly, shrivelled, thin appearance.

He was a complete shell of his old self. Whizzer used to be healthy and fun and flirty, drinking himself half to death.

He knew that Whizzer didn't have alot of time left when the doctors asked Marvin [since he was the one paying his lovers medical bills] whether or not they should turn off all the machines hooked up to him and let him die.

Let him pass away peacefully rather than endure more weeks of pain.

"Don't sit up — you'll overexert yourself." "Whizzer i.." he paused, sighing. "I'm gonna stay here for a few days. With you."

Marvin fixed the tulips into the vase again, putting a 'get well soon' card there. He looked over at Whizzer, God, he didn't want to tell him his life support was going to be turned off.

"I don't want you to be alone, I'm going to stay, okay?"