15-minute-fic - Till death do us part
Written for 15_minute_fic
She knows she's dying, and her heart speeds up a fraction when she thinks it might be now. It's not a surprise - we both know she's had a long, good life. She told me when the time came to just let go, but I don't know how. I don't want her to go and leave me here, unable to follow where she's bound.
“You're fussing again.” Her hand, shaking ever-so slightly, comes to rest on mine. “It's not so bad, you know.” Her voice is still strong, thankfully. “I've done what I wanted to do, seen almost everything I wanted to see, and they're all jealous because I have you.”
“Almost everything?” Turning my hand in hers, I give her a gentle squeeze. “What have you not seen? I'll take you there now.”
“You can't.” Squeezing my hand, she smiles. “It won't ever happen.”
“What?” I lean closer, inhaling her scent, pleased that her heart rate has gone back to normal as we talk. “You know if it is in my power, I will find it or make it happen.”
Laughing softly, she shakes her head, silvered hair catching the light. “You can't, and you won't. If you could, you wouldn't be what you are.”
This was something we'd not discussed in a very long time, decades maybe. “Because I'm vain. Was vain. But for you --”
“You'd give up nothing. Vanity turned into fear before we met, and I'm okay with that.” She grins, as beautiful now as she was half a century ago, even with the deep lines etched into her face.
“You know me well.” I try to smile back, make a joke of it, but her words sting with truth. A sigh escapes me, and I can not stop the words that pass my teeth. “I've been thinking, love, and I could--” Frail fingers against my lips stem the flow of words.
“No.” The sadness in her eyes burns more than her honesty. “I can't live like you. I thought I was strong, maybe strong enough, until I'd known you for a long time.” With a shrug, she curls up against my side, her head on my shoulder. “Now ... Now I'm an old woman.”
“You don't have to be.” Just say the word. We'd done this before, had this discussion, and I know what she'll say. Tucking her head under my chin so I don't have to see her expression, I feel her draw a deep breath.
“Death is how it's supposed to be, my heart. I'm not afraid.”
She knows she's dying, and her heart speeds up a fraction when she thinks it might be now. It's not a surprise - we both know she's had a long, good life. She told me when the time came to just let go, but I don't know how. I don't want her to go and leave me here, unable to follow where she's bound.
“You're fussing again.” Her hand, shaking ever-so slightly, comes to rest on mine. “It's not so bad, you know.” Her voice is still strong, thankfully. “I've done what I wanted to do, seen almost everything I wanted to see, and they're all jealous because I have you.”
“Almost everything?” Turning my hand in hers, I give her a gentle squeeze. “What have you not seen? I'll take you there now.”
“You can't.” Squeezing my hand, she smiles. “It won't ever happen.”
“What?” I lean closer, inhaling her scent, pleased that her heart rate has gone back to normal as we talk. “You know if it is in my power, I will find it or make it happen.”
Laughing softly, she shakes her head, silvered hair catching the light. “You can't, and you won't. If you could, you wouldn't be what you are.”
This was something we'd not discussed in a very long time, decades maybe. “Because I'm vain. Was vain. But for you --”
“You'd give up nothing. Vanity turned into fear before we met, and I'm okay with that.” She grins, as beautiful now as she was half a century ago, even with the deep lines etched into her face.
“You know me well.” I try to smile back, make a joke of it, but her words sting with truth. A sigh escapes me, and I can not stop the words that pass my teeth. “I've been thinking, love, and I could--” Frail fingers against my lips stem the flow of words.
“No.” The sadness in her eyes burns more than her honesty. “I can't live like you. I thought I was strong, maybe strong enough, until I'd known you for a long time.” With a shrug, she curls up against my side, her head on my shoulder. “Now ... Now I'm an old woman.”
“You don't have to be.” Just say the word. We'd done this before, had this discussion, and I know what she'll say. Tucking her head under my chin so I don't have to see her expression, I feel her draw a deep breath.
“Death is how it's supposed to be, my heart. I'm not afraid.”